Weekly Summary (7/8/13-7/14/13)

Long week to week-and-a-half, let's just put it that way. 

 Blog:   Video: "When I Get Bald" - Alastair Moock, Textbooks and Novels

Videos:  "It's OK" - Bill Crosby

Listen to Music:  None

Free Music:  "When I Look Into the Night Sky" - Lori Henriques

Kids Music Reviews:  None

Upcoming Releases: Constantly updating...

Podcasts

Kindie Week in Review:  Episode 23: There's a Mad Lib in There Somewhere

My Other Other Gig:  None

Bake Sale:  Episode 5: Jerome Schoolar (Dusty Biscuit), Biscuit Brothers Fine Arts Farm, River Raisin Ragtime Revue: Children's Ragtime CD 

 

Textbooks and Novels

A couple weeks ago, I wrote a kindie manifesto, my attempt to synthesize several years of thinking about the purpose and value of music for families.  In some respects, it was a starting point for a conference presentation I've not been asked to deliver, and in that way, it is the first of a three-part series.

Part two below is something I've been pondering for well over a year.  It's me trying to state more plainly (albeit wordily) my preferences as a parent, listener, and reviewer.  Part three... well, I'm pretty sure it'll surprise you when I get around to writing it.  But there's plenty to consider (and for some of you, disagree with).

*** 

I have a (well-deserved) reputation for not taking out too much after things I consider poorly done.  It's a little frustrating to me because one of the reasons I started writing kids music reviews online is that I couldn't find much in the way of reviews that provided some gradation of quality.  Everything in magazines was uniformly awesome, even though once you listened, things clearly weren't.

Add to that my firm belief that taste is subjective and my own consensus-driven nature in many ways, and the result is not much in the way of "this is bad" kind of reviews.  I have a general rule -- totally unanalyzed, but I think it's probably pretty close to the truth -- that the top 20% of kids music albums can appeal to most listeners, the worst 20% will appeal to very, very few, and the other 60% in the middle will affect different listeners differently.  So that's 80% that some person somewhere not related to the musician will likely enjoy.

In addition, the nature of music discovery these days on the internet means that the only thing worse than a bad review is no review at all.

But I do try to provide some sense of comparative narrative when I write about kids music here.  Some albums or videos are good for certain listeners, some are good for just about everybody, and some are basically unreservedly awesome.

And on rare occasions I say something like I did about the Grammys 18 months ago, I tend to couch it in very muted terms -- "hey, this is just my personal opinion."

Still, even in that case, I got some pushback, and most of it sort of revolved around the idea that we (or I) should be more supportive of the kids music scene generally, that suggesting that some artists aren't as popular or central or whatever other comparative adjective you want to use as others is definitely not supportive. 

So here are a few words about what I like in kids music, offered not to denigrate what I don't like, but to explain why I think the music I do like it supportive of the genre as a whole.

*** 

My questions to artists is whether they're writing novels or textbooks. 

Textbook-writing is a noble profession.  Writing books or apps or whatever we're going to be writing in the 21st century is An Important Job.  My dad wrote and/or edited a whole series of computer science-related textbooks related to his work.  Textbook writers are trying to help people learn something, and what could be wrong with that? 

Absolutely nothing. 

Me, I'm a guy with a graduate degree earned in the 20th century.  I have read a lot of textbooks in my time.  And, I can tell you, while some of those textbooks must have been important to my learning as I grew up, I don't remember the name of a single textbook author, or textbook, for that matter.

Not a one. 

And you probably can't, either.  OK, maybe you can remember one textbook that totally changed your life, maybe even its author(s), but those are the exceptions that prove the rule.

On the other hand, how many novels can you remember?  How many authors did you discover when you were 9 or 14 or 20 or 26 whose reading affected you deeply, whose work you followed, maybe for 5 years, maybe for 25?  Sure, there are a ton of books you've read and forgot about before it made it back to the library, used bookstore, or donation bin (or was swiped to delete off your e-reader), but there are probably a few books you've carried around (physically and metaphorically) through thick and thin.

The choice facing a kids' musician is whether they want to be a textbook author or a novelist. 

Do they want to write and perform music who literal raison d'etre is to teach kids about a particular subject?  Or are they trying to make art that might communicate something ineffable about life, or just bring joy?

It doesn't matter how important the subject is that a musician is trying to teach -- if that is the primary reason for the existence of the music being made, then parents (and not a few kids) will sniff that out.

Note that lots of art -- kids music included -- teaches.  I'm more concerned with music that seems to be crafted to impart a lesson rather than tell a story.  The line between teaching and preaching is not easily defined, but most folks of any age know it when they hear it.  As I summarized the concept in my manifesto, "stories not messages."  I believe kids and adults retain much more the former than the latter.  I think the Deedle Deedle Dees' songs are great because they're much more in the "stories" camp than trying to teach kids essential facts about Important Historical Figures.

And parents?  We're in the dream business.  We want our kids -- and ourselves -- to be transported.   To have somebody put into words and music things that sound prosaic coming out of our own mouths.  We want, when possible, to share those experiences with kids.

Let me be clear: if someone wants to make music whose purpose is to teach a subject, I think that's great.  (Music-education basic music is another subject entirely that doesn't quite fit in this model, but we have used that a lot in our family.)  But the music that will live on in our family is most likely going to be music which reflects kids' experiences and joy.

 ***

I wrote a lot of this while traveling to New York City for Kindiefest.  Because it's such a long haul for me to get to Brooklyn, I try to spend at least a little time being a tourist.  This time I went (back) to the Museum of Modern Art.  The place was absolutely packed.  Great crowds of people looking at art made a century ago or more. Artists followed their muses, and their names are now known forever.  The people who drew the many different maps that helped me get from Arizona to MOMA performed a valuable service to me but I have totally forgotten those maps.

I hope I've been open to recognizing music made for all purposes, but when it comes to kids music, I have a preference for novels over textbooks.  This site has been an expression of that.  Kids music in the form of "novels" takes many forms here, from silly to serious to sublime.  As my own kids slowly slide out of the kindie target age range, I think the albums they'll remember will be the ones that inspired them, not lectured them.  The songs that encouraged them to find their own path, not told them what path to walk down.  The music that encouraged more questions rather than gave them the answers.

I realize that praising novelists over textbook writers will sound ironic from someone whose site has tended toward the encyclopedic and recommendation-based.  And I realize that music and programs with specific pedagogical intent may be increasingly important as funding for music within schools is increasingly directed to specific pedagogical purposes.  I am just standing up for the idea that there is another approach to making music for families -- the "dream business" -- and that that's the approach which will, over time, have the greatest impact in keeping kids music a genre to be celebrated.

Video: "When I Get Bald" - Alastair Moock

I have a feeling that Alastair Moock's Singing Our Way Through: Songs for the World's Bravest Kids is going to be one of those (unfortunately) few kids' albums that breaks into wider recognition.  In part, that's because of the album's inspiring story (Moock's young daughter is diagnosed with leukemia, Moock sings a lot in hospital, is inspired to record an album for families meeting the same challenges).  But it's also because the album is a) really good, and b) humorous as much as it is somber.

"When I Get Bald," the song, nails that tightrope, and so does the video. 

Alastair Moock - "When I Get Bald" [YouTube

 

Weekly Summary (7/1/13 - 7/7/13)

OK, I admit it -- I barely posted at all last week.  Holiday week, busy week otherwise, etc., etc.  Can't post 20 items every week, I guess. 

Blog:  Monday Morning Smile: Oliver Jeffers Author Film, Interview: Monique Martin (SummerStage)

Videos:  None (can you believe it again?!)

Listen to Music:  Worst Superpower Ever - The Doubleclicks

Free Music:  None

Kids Music Reviews:  None

Upcoming Releases: Constantly updating...

Podcasts

Kindie Week in Review:  Episode 22: 33 Must-Have Songs for Mowing the Lawn

My Other Other Gig:  None

Bake SaleApp Camp For Girls: Non-Profit Camp Teaching Girls To Program iOS Apps

Interview: Monique Martin (SummerStage)

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Monique Martin is the Director of Family Programming for the Arts and Cultural Division of the City Parks Foundation in New York City.

What that really means (in part) is that she's responsible for putting together what might just be the biggest performing arts series for families in the country, the incredibly diverse in medium and style SummerStage Kids series.

After hearing Martin talk about booking kids shows at this year's Kindiefest, I thought that her views on what makes for a successful show and series would be of interest not just to musicians but also to fans and families who might be interested in bringing family music to their own communities.  My conversation with Martin exceeded even my expectations.  Do read on.  (And, if you're a presenter and you're interested in helping to create new works of art, make sure you read to the end and drop Martin a line.)

Zooglobble: What are your first musical memories? 

Monique Martin: I grew up in Berkeley with a dad, who was an amateur jazz musician.  He'd play piano -- jazz, bluesy stuff, boogie-woogie, make up songs.  He was also a beautiful whistler -- such a sweet sound, I have a very strong memory of that. 

My parents were music lovers, and we all played piano.  My mom was a theatre enthusiast -- we'd see touring Broadway shows and buy the show album.  Dreamgirls  and others.  We listened to soul music, like the Jackson 5, the Spinners and James Brown.

Did you try to imitate your dad whistling? 

Yeah -- we'd have whistling contests.  There's another form of whistling my dad did, too, where you're blowing into your thumb knuckles and it makes a similar sound of blowing into a conch shell or certain birds.  We'd try to imitate him with those.

  How did you get to New York producing concert series? 

I moved to New York City to work in theatre -- I was a stage manager on Broadway for ten years and also worked off-Broadway and with national and international touring productions.   Then I worked in the music industry as a music tour manager.

I then worked as a theatre consultant and did some PR and Marketing.  It was through that that I started curating shows -- Joe's Pub and elsewhere -- and cut my curatorial teeth.  I worked with the Lower Manhattan Cultural Council, which was one of creators of the River to River Festival in response to 9/11.  I was mentored there by [then-Executive Director] Liz Thompson on presenting shows within a festival setting. 

For those readers who are not in the New York area, can you tell me a little bit more about SummerStage? 

The series is produced by the City Parks Foundation, which encourages New York City residents to become stewards of their city parks.  It's part of the Arts Division, which seeks to brings arts to communities that might have limited access to arts interaction generally. 

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City Parks Foundation presents 1,200 programs in 700+ parks over the year, including sports programs, educational, dance, music and theatre programs.  The family series includes over 100 programs from June through August in 35 parks. 

How do you measure success of a show or the series -- are there different definitions of success? 

Within a song, what can they (the audience) take away?  What is the learning experience -- not in a moral sense, but did you learn that you can clap in rhythm, did you see an instrument that you've never seen or heard live before, learn a new word or two in another language?  I don't come from an arts-in-education background, but I'm looking for artists that are not performing by rote -- I'm looking to see if they really have an understanding of who they're performing for, and care.

With funders, the question is, "what is the long-range impact of the performance?"  Education is not shrinking at the same pace as other funding streams.  The long-term impact of interest could be building community, is the community engaged.  So how does one establish a residency within a festival setting?  I've begun having artists return, so instead of the "fresher, better" approach to festival programming, you build on what you did last year.

 There's a tremendous amount of diversity in the SummerStage kids' lineup.  Is that a function of being in the diverse New York City environment or a deliberate effort on your part? 

It's a combination.  I feel like it's my responsibility to bring in artists who might not have thought of performing for kids.

I'm looking for musical, genre and cultural diversity.   For example, there's a Family Day this Saturday, and I've got a guy who does juggling and magic, as well as another juggling duo.  One of the artists was concerned about why there'd be two juggling acts on the same day, but they're very different -- one is very energetic with lots of audience participation, while the other is more about math and how it informs synchronization in juggling.

Sometimes with jazz artists or poets, there's not the respect for this family audience, they'll feel offended -- "am I washed up?"  I tell them that it's like low-hanging fruit -- these audiences deserve good performances.  There's something beautiful about the freshness of young audiences.  I inherited this program and there had been some artists that had been there for years performing the same show over and over.  I've gone to the effort to broaden the artist pool.

As for New York City itself, there are immigrants from all over the world, but it's not just as simple as booking Spanish acts in Spanish-speaking communities.  For example, the Sunset neighborhood in Brooklyn has lots of different Latin communities, but there's also an Asian community and residents from the Caribbean.  Once a community partner, after seeing a calendar, asked "Are you kidding?  Three Latin acts?  What about country?  Roots?" 

The world's more global now; it's the responsibility of the presenter to ask, "how can we reach deeper?"  It's good for everyone.

It reflects my music growing up.  Yes, we listened to a lot of jazz and R&B, but also music from Mexico, Africa and classical. 

What is the response from artists who stretched, expanded into the family shows? 

All are blown away by the enthusiasm of family audiences.  There's no filter, no qualms about walking out if it's boring.  They're surprised and delighted by the honesty.  Some of the artists are thinking about the show itself; others as a pathway, "Great.  Now can I get on the main stage?" 

What are your future plans for the series? 

One thing I'm interested in is contemporary circus.  There's no fourth wall, it's created to be engaging.  So we're putting on the first International Contemporary Circus Festival, with troupes from places like Columbia, Brazil, San Francisco, Montreal. 

Even before I got here [SummerStage], I was interested in non-traditional artist collaborations.  I want to know, "What would you love to do?"  You see someone like Laurie Berkner, who has appearances with orchestras.  She has the luxury of thinking big, but I don't know if that's just a result of her success or how she thinks as an artist.   

"What is your wildest dream?," I would ask an artist.  I would love to see an opera but broader, like the Lemony Snicket show.  How can we make something on that scale accessible to everyone.  I'm interested in a big show that can travel throughout the five boroughs.  Not just your normal 45-minute concert.

If there are other presenters who would be interested in creating a show like that, they should get in touch.

Monday Morning Smile: Oliver Jeffers Author Film

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Oliver Jeffers' illustrations are both idiosyncratic and familiar, and his books are quirky but fun.  So is this brief promo piece for him, which I'm not sure intends to be inspirational about the creative process generally, but sorta is.   His new book, The Day the Crayons Quit, was just released.