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JUNE 2004

What kind of a monthly diary is this? The kind that gets written in every year. First, I should say that my job description has changed since I began this site back in 2003. I'm simply a musician, now. It's taken many years to become, but it's the only label that works. Not singer/songwriter, teacher, therapist, or anything else. "Musician" is all these things, and it's all I need... especially since I can now support my family as such. It's an artistic vocation with an economic side that allows me to exchange values with my community that keeps us housed, clothed, fed and in pretty good spirits. For my part I keep developing skills and material, and my community keeps up a modest demand. It's working and it will keep working because of its simplicity. A friend once said to me, "Sam, when you get good enough nobody can say anything." It meant once you can play at the top of your field people will pay you to do it. That only happened for me when I realized that my field is absolutely unique and individual, in fact I have no competition, I'm the only one who does what I do in the world, my instrument is one of a kind. I play me.

That said, let me tell you about a gig I had today over in Westchester at the White Plains Center for Elder Care. There's a job you can get as a musician if you can simply walk from room to room in elder care facilities singing and playing for people who spend their lives in bed. Now, old folks in these homes today like a range of music that goes back roughly to the 1920's or so and ends somewhere in the early 1980's. They might like jazz/swing, country, Broadway, Pop, Soul, Folk, and a little Rock. I happen to love this repertoire. I've been playing this particular home in White Plains for two or three years, now, and there's one woman who I always see in my mind's eye whenever I think of the place. She's a large, black woman with an angelic face as round as the moon and huge eyes made even larger by her advanced stage of diabetes.

When I first went to her room and played a few years ago she was asleep, her breathing strained and irregularly, mouth open and parched as though she was near the end. I was surprised to see her still with us each time I returned. But she was never awake; I never knew if she heard me while I sang to her and played softly on the guitar. Today, surprise, she was awake, sitting up in bed and smiling to see me. And we sang together like old friends. "Aint Misbehavin'," and "Georgia on My Mind." What a time we had!

What a job! Here at Camp Venture I'm finally getting to do what I've dreamed about for the past five years. They've given me all the instruments I requested to be working both with individuals and with groups. Lyres, choir chimes, tone bars, something for everyone. Music is the most wonderful tool for communication. But I'm not quite sure why or how it works as well as it does in many instances. People who've never communicated directly are suddenly able to do that with music. I'm working with a young man, perhaps 35 years old, who happens to be the disabled son of a crack addict. His disability is so profound I can hardly explain it here. He is compromised in every aspect of his life, and I am amazed how he continues on, day by day; some days are better, some worse, but he gets through and even manages to laugh at times. We play music together in the following way. He plays a maraca, I play the guitar. Whatever tempo he plays at, I follow and play at, too. For ten seconds he plays real fast, then he stops and begins again at a very slow tempo, then he falls asleep and wakes up in two seconds playing real fast agian. I keep following. He laughs then falls asleep for another ten seconds, wakes up and plays some more for another few seconds. This goes on for fifteen minutes or so. Then he has his bad days... you don't want to know about them. Or perhaps I just don't know how to write about them yet.

As promised, I'd like to start writing about my students. The legal term in NY State now for people with disabilities is "consumer," not "patient" (too medical), not "person" (too normal), not "resident," (too institutional), not "person with a disability" (too accurate)... but "consumer", being a consumer of services. How would you like to be called a "consumer" by everyone in the world? Get ready, it might be coming soon, really!

I'd rather be a "person with a disability," that's a better way to think about people... we're all disabled in certain ways, the ability to love selflessly is one that comes to mind. Or, here's another: when I sit down to write a song I feel like a disabled person, getting by only on my belief that somehow the universe will take care of me. Sorry, I'm drifting here.

I was going to try to write about my students. Of course, I can't use any names or I could be arrested by HIPPA (the agency that regulates things like privacy issues of "consumers"). But I think it's okay to give a case without mentioning any names. There's a female consumer, a paraplegic who can propel herself around in a powered wheel chair set up specially so she can steer it with her head. She has hardly any use of her body in general. But she loves music with a passion and can sing many songs by heart. Problem is, she's never had to match a pitch accurately, and, like many people with no education in singing, she often sings harmony notes rather than the melody.

Another issue she has to overcome is the partial paralysis of the mouth and tongue so words are difficult to construct. I described her to a friend who told me she once saw such a situation where the person was able to play a harmonica attached to a head holder, the kind Bob Dylan uses. Thinking it was worth a try, I picked up a harmonica and head holder at a local music store and gave it to her. She was thrilled. Since she can't purse the lips enough to isolate single notes, we're using the tonguing technique where she practices covering several note holes with her tongue, letting air slip by between the sides of the tongue and the corner of the mouth. This is a great way to play the harp because you can play chords by lifting the tongue away and putting it down again rhythmically. Anyway, for her it's an activity that might bring several benefits. She has to sit up really straight to get her mouth around the harp. This causes her to extend and stretch her middle body, to create space for her organs, and to breathe deeply to make notes sound. It also gives motion to her mouth, tongue, and neck. If she could have daily practice it would be great. But in the home where she lives the care-givers are too busy to set it up for her, so it normally has to wait for the twice weekly times that her social worker comes to the house.

Major changes over this past several months. I've started working more or less full-time at Venture Center in Sparkill, NY. I get to bring music to many people with disabilities, to make their lives a little more interesting, and mine too. I'm working with techniques and ideas that have been around for some time, but that I've never really put into practice. For example, I recently heard a lecture on the qualities of tuning instruments to "A-432" instead of 440. If you're not a musician you can think of this as kind of "taking the edge" out of the music. "A-440," which means that the musical pitch called "A" is tuned to vibrate at 440 oscillations per second, is the standard for orchestral tuning in the West. But only recently, say a few generations in family terms, did "A" come to be tuned at that frequency. Before this time it was several "beats" lower, around 432. Today, when the orchestra takes their seats and the concert master sounds the pitch for everyone to tune up to, that pitch is usually around A440. But in some orchestras it is even higher; the Boston Symphony, for example, uses something closer to A460 it is rumored. Why? To increase the "brightness" or the intensity of the music's high points. Yes, conductors have come to believe that the public is so dense that we are not moved by music unless it is performed with more intensity, which is to say at higher pitch. Soon a symphony in B flat will actually be in B natural without having the music transposed. Now you'll know why you're jumping out of your seat at the conclusion of Mahler's Titan. (I guess when the Boston Symphony does it they have to special order the triangle.) Anyway, it was suggested to me by a music therapist friend of mine that I try tuning my instruments to "A 432." Let me tell you, this is just a simple adjustment, but the effect is not at all simple. As a musician I have spent my adult life trying to stand out, to be bigger, better, louder, hotter, faster, etc. than other players. How else does one impress? Certainly not by being quiet, soft, subdued, subtle, gentle... at least not the kind of music I've been playing. But tuning down to "A432" is a deliberate act with just such an intention. When I play down there it feels like I've become something of a neutered cat. It's quite a sacrificial act, and I can't say I actually like it. On the other hand, the effect on the disabled person seems to be truly calming... at least in these beginning stages of the experiment. Being hyper aware of the experiment and the sounds I'm making may be causing me to play with more sensitivity intentionally, which could be skewing the results. But the experiment will go on for a year and I'll keep you posted on the progress.

Perhaps soon I'll start writing something about my students (without mentioning names -- state regulations make that against the law.)

Seven months, this time, since the last time I found time to update this page. Crazy. Anyway, the occasion is to report on last night's concert "Voices Together" at Symphony Space in The City. David Ippolito, "That Guitar Man from Central Park", put the thing together with amazing grace it would seem. I remember when he first spoke to me about the project last summer. It was a benefit for children and families in Iraq who have suffered from acts of war... no matter who's committing them. Everyone is the foe to someone in war, good guys, bad guys, it doesn't matter when innocent children are killed and severely injured. Politics stop in that case and someone has to clean up the mess. We were singing last night for the people who have dedicated themselves to doing that. But it was also an excuse to have a great time singing with friends, old and new. The other musicians on the bill besides David and I, were Roger Bartlett, Christine Lavin, Karlus Trapp, and Modern Man, a three-piece group with David Buskin, Rob Carlson and George Wurzbach. What a time we had! First off, the venue is first class in every way. The staff at Symphony Space were a pleasure to work with. The audience as stoked. David did a stupendous job of creating a level of anticipation that gave us all a charge from the start. Two presentation, one by Alissa Montanti from the Global Medical Relied Fund (www.globmed.org) and the other by Dr. Kalil Jassemm of LIFE USE (www.lifeusa.org), showed us videos of the care work that these two organizations are doing in Iraq at this time. The images of children maimed in the crossfire were heartbreaking. Alissa actually brought two children and their parents from Iraq who are in this country receiving medical attention to the concert so we could meet them. It was extremely moving. But the concert was not taken over by grief. Instead, all the musicians worked doubly hard at making sure the audience could laugh as well as cry and the overall effect was wonderful. I want to promise to update this diary page more often, but I'm afraid I may not fulfill it so I'll just say, "I'll try."

Five months have passed since my last update. Well, if you're trying to maintain your own web site while conducting a normal life away from your computer, you know how it goes. For example, this morning I was milking Heather at 6:30 out at the barn, and putting her in the pasture for the day. Now I'm looking at being 5 chapters behind in a course in social psychology which has to be completed by next Friday.... I won't go on. As I always tell my students, "don't give me any excuses unless I ask for one!"

Gigging around New York is going well. I've got a regular spot at the "Starving Artist Cafe" in City Island in the Bronx. It's a cool little cafe that seats about 30 people packed in. Elliot and Monica run the place under the supervision of Hanna, their 6-year-old daughter. It's a gallery where world-class artists are showing their work, which makes a beautiful environment. Being City Island, the site of America's great boat-building past, it's got the flavor of wood and sea in the walls. Audiences are there to hear the music and what a pleasure that is!

Also, the monthly songwriter's circle at the Red Lion in Greenwich Village is developing beautifully with George Wurzbach, Brian Muni, David Ipolito, John Wallowitch, Skip Brevis, and me holding forth once a month. Ann Ruckert organizes the night and does a great job of it.

Teaching jobs have been blossoming this Spring, too. New situations at Camp Venture and Jawonio have sprouted into enthusiastic weekly songwriting sessions and I hope to get CDs of all this music recorded this summer.

Our Venture Academy class is getting ready for the big show at the Nanuet Library on February 22. We've got about six songs that we'll perform for parents and friends and we'll give out copies of our CD of original songs. Here's one of our songs... lyrics only, though perhaps I'll post the music as well one of these days. This song is based on a story that Mark brought to the class about a mean camp councilor named Nathan, who always threatened to throw kids' clothes into the trash can if they left them on the floor.

TRASHCANS

(Chorus)
Trash cans, trash cans, trash cans are for trash
You’d better put your clothes away
Or that’s where they’ll be stashed

I.
We’re on the bus to camp
The weather’s cold and damp
But we got our raincoats
Our hats and our rubber boots

It’s a bump, bump, bumpy ride
We’re packed in side by side
And we don’t feel so good
In these hot and heavy suits

Oh, Nathan will be waiting at the door
When we all throw our clothes out on the floor

He’s gonna holler:

(Chorus)

II.
I took a swim in the pool
I left my clothes under a stool
And when I got back
I didn’t see ‘em any more

My pants, my socks,
My brand new shoes right out of the box
They were in the trash can
And I know who put ‘em there

Oh, Nathan had a smile on his face
He said “you’d better put you clothes in the right place

I’m gonna throw ‘em in the

(Chorus)

III.
I took my clothes
Out of the trash
They smelled like yesterday’s sandwiches
Chips in my pockets
And twinkies in my shoes

When I got home I told my mom
She said it really didn’t do any harm
She said “thank you Nathan
For an idea I can use”

Then she got a funny look upon her face
She said, “you better put your clothes
In the right place

I’m gonna throw ‘em in the

(Chorus)

Summer and Fall went by without a diary update. Since I don't know if anyone ever reads this diary I wonder if it's worth taking the time to write in it... but as I'm here, I might as well. (Do me a favor, send me an email if you've been here.) As I'm writing, the rain from earlier this AM has stopped and the view out the window is bright and wintry. My wife's ex-husband is walking by with his dog... you can tell, I don't know exactly how to get started here. Last summer I returned to school after about 40 years. I'm working on a Master's, which will take another three years, but I'll enjoy it this time. Teaching at Venture Academy is going beautifully. My students are always thrilled with our song writing efforts and I'm working on a CD for them now. I've been singing once a month in a Songwriter's Guild of America showcase at the Red Lion in New York City, and making some nice contacts there. I also have a regular gig out in City Island as well as several guitar students. The Election came and went and of course I'm not happy about the result.. but I do think that Bush (just mentioning the name will bring the robots swooping down on my site like in The Matrix) will see his approval rating slip into the gutter as Americans come to their senses -- or their conscience, rather -- seeing the world suffering so under the policies of this administration. Enough politics. My son, Ben Leopold, has become a wonderful singer (who'd a ever thought it?) and is recording with producer/drummer, Evan Rossiter. Ben and Evan have been friends since the second grade at Green Meadow Waldorf School in Spring Valley, NY. They went through orchestra, band and chorus together, Ben on cello then tuba, Evan on drums. I guess I'm the proud father... and especially happy that they're recording some of my songs. I'm gonna ride their coat tails all the way. Go, boys, go!

New family: Hayden, Lara, and Alexander in a photo taken by dad, Simon, our son. 1999 was Japan; 2002 was Australia; 2004 is twins, glorious twins. Seven months old, now. And us, nine months back in the States, gestating a new life, so to speak. I begin teaching at Venture Academy next week... a group of about 15 special young adults. Our 10 week program will yield a CD by the students there. I can't wait to hear what we'll produce together. Perhaps that will be the next addition to the diary. Cheers!

This is the new CD cover. The photo was taken in October, 2003 in Lillyfield, a suberb of Sydney, by Viktorija Macens. The design is by Paul Robert Burton. I don't know the girl in the picture, she was walking by when Viktorija was shooting and I asked her to stand still a minute. Then I had to track her down for permission when the pictures came out and we decided to use this one. I was able to find her by putting a note up in the store next to the lottery tickets. She looks like she's scratching a ticket in the shot.

BACK IN THE STATES

When it's summer down under it's winter up here. December's half over and I realize this page should not be called "monthly update" but perhaps "tri-monthly" or "occasional" update. The last three months have been intense. Firstly, our son, Simon, and his wife, Lara, had twins. Being back in the States is more about family than work. Kids need help, what do you do? Secondly, I got a job teaching songwriting shortly after returning to New York, at a new Magnet high school in Westchester County. I have a wonderful group of seven teenagers who are all smart and talented and that makes it a great job. Next term I hope to have another class as well. And, thirdly, I've begun working with another musician, Allen Watsky, who plays five different instruments in the show and we're burning it up. We've already played a major East-coast venue, "The Turning Point" in Piermont, NY, and we're making a video to begin promoting our work further. Talks are progressing with several schools for programs over he next year and I'm looking forward to teaching more and learning more about songwriting as a help to young people. Here in the States I'll be looking into incorporating Songwriting with Young People as an NPO so I can offer it in areas where disabled or disadvantaged folks can't afford to pay for it.

Mid-September now, summer's coming to Australia, and I'm preparing to go back into winter in the States. This past month I've been recording a new CD with Paul Burton producing, which we'll launch here on Oct. 2 at "The Basement" night club. We have thirteen new songs presented in various styles using both a full band of backing tracks as well as several numbers recorded with just acoustic guitar and voice. I have to say I've finally made a recording that I'm happy with in every way and it's a wonderful feeling.

Warrah teens brought new challenges this semester. I'm learning that kids with profound disabilities mature quite differently from "normal" teens. Most of my students will graduate into day-long care facilities with minders who will medicate instead of teachers who educate. In this special school there was something hopeful, as if a miracle would happen allowing them to join into society in some kind of productive situation... perhaps even a job. But most of them will take a downhill track from here. Partly due to their condition, partly do to that of society. Having personally seen a more enlightened way, that of the Camp Hill movement, I'm saddened that Australian society can't see it's way into supporting such a system of care. But the government puts too many restrictions and conditions on care. Ironically, the government thinks it is promoting individual freedom. But these profoundly intellectually disabled individuals have no personal control over their fate, and leaving them free to decide their lifestyle is a hoax in most instances, propagated by ignorance, convenience and ineptitude. People who could truly help would have their hands tied by a social/scientific model gained accordingly, while the disabled are kept drugged and slavishly amused by care workers without a clue about how much society could really accomplish with the right education and motivation for care work. We do not ever consider the truth that the disabled individual is a gift to society and not a burden.

The Camp Hill model for disability care has to be guided and supported out of the cultural realm of society, not the legal or economic sphere, neither of which are suited nor meant to take up social works as their own, but rather to insure equal benefit to all citizens and provide funds to do it with. People have to get that picture before they can work appropriately with the healing/therapeutic needs of society. It can not be legislated according to budgetary considerations or it will always be lacking in wisdom. Funny how the instinct for individualism, which is a good one, gets co opted along the way by other interests.

May, June, July, went by without an entry to the diary. There were trips down to Adelaide and Mt. Barker, with workshop and concert combinations, shows and workshop at the St Albins folk festival, and weekly teaching at Warrah and Lorien Novalis. During the long "winter" break (hard to get used to winter in July down here in Australia) I've been focused on recording a new CD with Paul Burton. "Supermarket" is the working title and featured song. Like the title it contains a variety of musical foods and flavors. You can hear some of the songs performed pure, with just guitar arrangements, on this site. Jim Conway has been a big help with that project, too. The big news is that we'll be returning to the States shortly to be with our family there. So, after gigs here at Sydney's Basement night club, working with Jim Conway's Big Wheel, and another gig with them up on the Central Coast, I'll be off to New York. Bookings are in process at Caffe Lena in Saratoga Springs and The Turning Point in Piermont, NY. It's short notice to ask schools to use my workshop, they usually take a term or more to set their schedules, but here's hoping. Before leaving Australia, we hope to accomplish a performance of a show we're writing with the Warrah kids. It's inspired by Jordan, a 17 year old student who has the charming idiosyncrasy of speaking in two different voices, one squeaky high and one very low. Since Jordan likes turtles our play will be called "How the Turtle Found His Voice" which will see Jordan in the role of the hero, questing through Permian landscapes in search of his primal voice. Others in the class will be playing roles as "rain" "ocean" "birds" - all on their own instruments and voices. Our students from Lorian Novalis will help out as well, providing some of the concept and writing along with singing. Let's hope that Jordan finds his real voice in the midst of all this.

WARRAH CONCERT

We marked the end of three months of wild songwriting with two hours of mild "concertizing" for about 100 friends and family members of day-services clients. From early February, I've been traveling one day a week to the day-centers, working with several clients with special needs at each location. We wrote fifteen songs about ourselves, our friends and life at Warrah, seven of which were presented at the concert. With the help of Nicholas Alias, a Warrah co-worker, a CD was produced (cover pictured above) and a copy handed to each of the writers at the concert after they performed their song with me on stage. It was a rewarding program for everyone, developing capacities to communicate and understand and learn things about ourselves. These people with special needs are...well...special.

PAUL BURTON, JIM CONWAY...

and I have been engaged this month writing songs and recording. First, for "Jim Conway's Bigwheel" in which Paul is also the bass player, we wrote a song that gets sung by Arnie Hanna, called "Lee County Cafe." It's a steamy blues about a lynching in Southwest Georgia. The band has already cut the basic tracks and Arnie's scratch vocal is so hot it'll go final. He makes you feel the noose around your neck. Currently, Jim and I are seeing what we can come up with for the "Backsliders." Paul is helping me make a CD of about 12 new songs. He's recording and playing bass and other instruments. The "Bigwheel" album release will be in early September at the Basement in Sydney (TheBasement.com is the label) and they've asked me to be supporting act! Jim and Paul will play with me on some numbers. This is very exciting as these guys are among Australia's (and the world's) best musicians, playing at Sydney's premier venue. And, thanks to Paul, I'll have a new CD for sale as well.

PORT MACQUARIE CALLING

I was playing one night up in Bellingen when I got a phone call from the organizer of the "Battle of the Bands" in Port Macquarie. It's a yearly event that's been going on for a few years now. But the idea is changing from "battle" to something more peaceful, cultural, and youth oriented. They've asked me to come there and give a one-day songwriting workshop, two days before the festival, that can help develop a theme for the weekend. "Lyrics are more than words that rhyme." I think that'll do.

LORIAN NOVALIS SCHOOL

In February I started teaching songwriting as an elective subject in the highschool at Lorian. There are seven students who have chosen the class. Not surprisingly, they're all talented -- though few have any formal music training -- and hungry for musical experiences of all kinds. We've started group singing a choral arrangement of Balm In Gilead from the African American congregational music tradition, just to have an experience of singing parts together. They sound great! Students bring in their favorite music on CD, which we listen to and analyze; we're beginning to bring in poetry to share with the class and warming up to the idea of actually writing songs together.
  

WARRAH DAY SERVICES — Towilla, Merriwa, Waaia, Yandiana

Since the beginning of January we've been working with clients who have various levels of disability at Warrah. Some are verbal, others are not. There are two or three clients at each session sitting around a table, sometimes inside or else out on the school grounds surrounded by sounds, sights and smells of Sydney's 'Hills District'. We write songs about our lives and daily concerns -- things we like and don't like -- based on real life but not limited by it. I'm thinking of a delightful young man who's over two meters tall and shows his glee by tucking his head down into his neck and rapidly clapping the palms of his fists together with an intense childlike smile. He's a storyteller who can capture any unguarded ear with a friendly straight faced missive, "you know what happened at my house just last night?" In the ensuing tale there's always a death involved, a visit from the police, and sometimes even a trip up to heaven to talk to God. Parents and friends will hear our songs at a performance at the end of April. A number of songs have been completed, some of which we're recording on a CD that will be given out at the performance.
 

WARRAH SCHOOL TEENAGERS

Our classes have been ongoing for five months now. Special Needs The students have become active and enthusiastic songwriters. Classes are a high point in everyone's week.