Thursday, October 25, 2012

THE PARIS SHOW - ONCE IN A LIFETIME


I played a show in Paris a few weeks ago at an art installation on a footbridge over the Seine River. I haven’t really had a chance to assimilate the experience until now because I had 2 art exhibitions opening right after I got back. It wasn’t easy, but I got everything finished. The paintings are all hanging on walls now and I’m proud of what came out. The LA Brewery Artwalk show went amazing last weekend, and I’m looking forward to my opening at The Frame Gallery in Agoura next Saturday night.

And now here I am. And there I was. Paris.

I started this entry a couple times but ran out of words before I could do the experience any justice. It just doesn’t translate well to language. But I really want to share the experience with you, so I’m trying again.

When I got offered the gig, I was told there was no budget so they couldn’t pay for me or any expenses, but if I could get myself there they would love to have me. I didn’t commit right away while I wrestled with whether or not I “should” go due to the sad state of my finances and the fact that I had just had a vacation. Plus, I knew there was a distinct possibility I could wind up playing for 3 people. From a rational  perspective, it really made no sense.

But there was something inside me that just wouldn’t let me say no. I knew I HAD to do it. I was helpless. I knew it the moment Adrian and Ruth first offered it to me. I heard a voice say, “It’s Paris. This is once in a lifetime. Go.”

Just because something doesn’t “make sense”, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad idea. “Sense” is overrated. My best decisions usually fly in the face of reason. So I listened to my gut and finally hit “send” on the email committing myself to go.

Woo hoo! Was quickly followed by…Eek! What am I going to play? I’ve performed at countless clubs over the years and some of my art openings, but never an installation like this. Somehow my “regular” set just didn’t feel appropriate. When I imagined myself on that bridge playing, I knew I had to do something different. Something new.

STEP UP 48"x36"
The steps at the St. Michel Station in Paris
The thing is, I feel a kinship with Paris. The first time I went there was in 2008. I spent a week there alone that altered me for life. I remember walking up the steps at the St. Michel station in the Latin Quarter after riding the train in from London, taking one look around, and feeling something I’d never felt before...comfortable. Comfortable in a way I never even knew existed until that moment.

It was beautiful. Yes. I was happy. YES! Ecstatic in fact. It was noisy, chaotic and strange. Absolutely. But the best word to describe the feeling I had is comfortable. It’s odd. And it struck me as odd at the time. There’s no other way to explain it. It was like unbeknownst to me, I’d been holding my breath my whole life until that moment when a silent, spiritual, gutteral sigh came over me...and then...everything was different.

It still is.

So when I got offered this gig, it was personal. I almost teared up when I imagined sound waves of my music floating, bouncing around and being absorbed by the city. This was a chance to give an offering of myself to a place that has given me so much.

I wanted whatever I did to make sense with the concept of the installation, which involved a connection between 2 things….people, cities, nations or lives (hence, the bridge). I stayed up nights for weeks concocting together a musical experience which I felt mapped the emotional terrain involved in moving from one place in life to another. I tried to throw away everything I thought I knew about music. I just pictured myself standing there playing….what feels right? Drums? Ok. A string section? Sure. I refused to worry about logistics. If it sounded beautiful or right, it went in. I worked until the last second getting on the plane. 

In the end I don’t know exactly what I wound up with, but i liked it. It would require me to play live with prerecorded backing tracks on my computer which I had mixed feelings about, but nothing else seemed majestic enough. So I went with it. 

I was fine until the day before. Then the doubts came. “What have I done? I would’ve been better off with etheric sound effects than a concert. They’re going to hate it. It’s an art installation, not a rock show.”

I was a basket case. I promptly blew the electricity in the apartment where we were staying because I didn’t use a transformer with my old reverb unit. I couldn’t get my head screwed on right. My girlfriend who joined me on the trip tried to talk me off the cliff but I was struggling.

Later that night we went to dinner with our friend who flew in from Italy for the weekend, and finally I relaxed. Trust, right? The whole concept of my show. “Nothing I can do now. I did this for me. As recently as yesterday, I thought it sounded good, so I need to roll with it. It is what it is.”

So I wake up the next day feeling good. We see a few sights in the morning and take the train to the bridge in the afternoon. It’s a beautiful day.

When we get to the bridge, I set up, plug in, and Adrian turns up the PA loud. Loud is good. We hang out for a little while, and then it’s time. I start with my light intro music and build up from there. The concept of the set opens with this naïve bravado kind of space, ultimately ending in a humble determination to continue forward. I turn my head to the left as the sun sets over the Seine. Sound my from guitar is everywhere. I can feel the bridge vibrate under my feet. I’m in Paris. Everyone is watching. Good crowd. I've never sounded quite like this.

It’s not often in life I can say I’ve had an actual and completely new experience. This was one of those times. Everyone was so nice and appreciative that I came so far and put so much into it. And this is where words fail me. As I profusely thanked everyone after my first set via Adrian who translated for me, I felt tears welling up so I stopped talking before it got ugly. Or beautiful. However you want to see it.

Two days later, we went to visit a suburb where I had another profound experience in 2009 and it’s as special and incredible as I remember. And this time I got to share it with my beautiful girlfriend.

The once in a lifetime experience I was hoping to have, I did, in fact have.

Today I feel different. Again. I’ve been changed. Again. And I can’t help but to see the irony in going to Paris to perform a concert about bridging the gap between 2 chapters of a man’s life, coming home to realize that the experience itself has carried me across the void to a new chapter in my own life. Art leading life. Or is it art reflecting life? Or is it the other way around?

Funny how things are. And all I had to do was say yes. Sort of. 

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