Do You Take Your Music Seriously?

Writing this post actually brought on a nightmare.

In my dream, I had managed to land a gig at Pranzo, the classy Italian restaurant in Santa Fe. Except now, instead of an intimate setting on the terrace overlooking Santa Fe, it was a 100-seat performance space. I was supposed to play some solo jazz piano, and after my first couple songs, the audience remained unmoved. The booking agent and another prominent pianist from Santa Fe came up on stage, kind of like the managers and coaches of a baseball team when the pitcher can't throw a strike, and basically told me to up my game or leave the stage. Daaaaamn. Strangely enough (or maybe not; it was a dream after all), there were Legos on the piano, but when I started to build, they told me I couldn't play with those, either. It was not a happy dream.

Here I am, circa 2010 at Los Ojos in Jemez Springs, NM. do I look serious enough for you?

Anyway, on with the real story. A few weeks ago, while at a local restaurant with my family, I ran into a prominent Santa Fe pianist while we were waiting in the line for the restroom. He had made the trek from Santa Fe to Los Alamos to hear fantastic guitarist Tony Ceserano and the band he was playing with that night (Jazz Baziliero) at the Ashley Pond bandstand. We struck up a conversation in which I mentioned that I played piano in a couple bands. He asked me, "do you take your music seriously?", I think in context of his job as a booking agent for another local restaurant. He mentioned that he was always looking for new acts. I said, somewhat timidly, that yes, I take my music seriously, but I make my living doing other work. In the back of my mind, I was wrestling with the notion of handing him my business card (which, incidentally and somewhat ironically, I was out of). I was also feeling a bit insecure in my abilities--the only act I've seen at his venue was John & Barbara. John in this case is John Rangel, one of the best jazz pianists I've ever heard and seen, and he was accompanying a fantastic singer (Barbara). So naturally, I was thinking that if that is the caliber musician he was after, well, I have some serious practicing to do in order to grace his venue with my performances. At that point, our conversation was interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door, a quick "see you at the show!" and my turn in the restroom queue.

Since then, I've been wrestling with the question, "do you take your music seriously?" It is such a rich question! I take my music seriously enough to practice every day, to rehearse regularly, to play out on nights and weekends, to travel fairly long distances to gigs, to teach others. Heck, we purchased a new house in part to get more space to explore more music! How much of my life to I have to dedicate to music to be "serious?" Some of it? All of it? Do I have to suffer for my art to meet the criteria for taking it seriously? My days of jumping through hoops to meet the expectations of others has come to an end, so if that's what's required to be serious, then I'm not.

I guess I take music seriously enough to know what my limits are. Playing a solo jazz piano gig at a fine venue such as Pranzo is probably not in the cards for me right now, at least not without some practice and expansion of my repertoire--the last several years I've been pursuing ensemble work in rock and jazz. I'm awed and inspired by a variety of pianists nearby, including John Rangel, Andy Kingston, David Geiss, Fran Meier, Juanita Madland, Joe Cox, and Brant Leeper. I would hope to fall somewhere in the spectrum of decent players in Northern New Mexico because I do play quite a bit. But maybe I don't, and maybe I should be practicing right now instead of writing this blog post!

So, do I take my music seriously? As you can see, my answer is "Yes, but..." A "taking it seriously" answer might be "Yes, absolutely. I'm always up for another opportunity to share my music. Here's my business card. Send me an email and I'll get you my press kit." I'd be calling John Rangel to see about a lesson or two. I'd be enrolled in a music program. I'd pursue other music projects. I'd quit the day job.

In the end, answering the question, or at least the way I've limited it here, is a pointless pursuit (or "bogus" as put by one of my band-mates). I am pretty sure that my partner in conversation four paragraphs ago did not mean to limit this question, either. I have (and I'm sure he has) seen too many people ruin their lives for the sake of taking something too seriously. I've seen it in art, music, outdoor pursuits, science, and commerce/free enterprise. (I've also seen people blow things off, to their detriment, but that's another topic for another day.) We should strive to be well-rounded people. So, I guess I'll say that I take my music seriously, but only in the context of a living a full and interesting life.

And (chuckle, wry grin) I suppose I could clear all this up with a phone call or an email to the man who posed the question to me. Maybe I'll get that press kit together and send it along with my inquiry. But then I wouldn't have this essay to show for all my assumptions, insecurity, and musing. 

Thanks for reading!