So I was inspired to finally write
tonight, after returning home from a community concert of the old MGM movie and
Golden Age of Musical HIGHLIGHTS titled “A Grand Night For Singing.” We took
our kiddos (the 20 that showed up today) and bussed over to the St. Vincent’s
High School where we brought the mean age of the room down a few generations.
But I felt right at home tapping along as the Chamber Choir sang HELLO DOLLY, BEGIN THE BEGUINE, and
TEA FOR TWO. It was a great procedure in patience, compassion, and more patience for
the students. We debriefed
afterwards on the bus, where some admitted being bored (some asked to leave mid
concert), about decorum, how we perform, etc…This was the first exposure most
of them had ever had to a formal concert. And having sat on the floor right in
front of the risers, there was nothing we missed.
My favorite was the little old lady
in front of the choir that was blind as a bat and had to be helped on stage.
But, she sang with the fully memorized fervor of Pavarotti! With her coke
bottle glasses and little bob haircut, her marble colored music folder never
even opened. And upon their 4th encore, which was a cool
instrumental number that sounded akin to the 70’s lounge suite arrangements
from the rest of the evening, she asked “We’re doing another? Pffffff..” Before
that, my highlight had been explaining what PARIS is and what J’DORE means to
the 9 year-old next to me whom I have nick named Tiny. In May she only wore
golden elaborate frocks and barely spoke, but now she is a fiery tomboy
that will answer any question you ask. What a difference a few months make….
Lets back this up though…So the
last month has been an epic odyssey, and I feel like I am finally finding a
rhythm. Part of that is intentionally finding a life outside the 12 hour days: I
saw some stand up comics last week who I then improved with afterward, went to a HUGE multi-stage music festival
called NH7, and I started going to the weekly jazz night at my favorite little
bungalow restaurant. My lady volunteer army of ASTEPers arrived, and half have already left again. We have successfully integrated the ARTS into the
curriculum in schools, though we are dealing with some serious cultural issues
as far as our CHILD PROTECTION policy goes. I now have a SECOND phone, thanks
to forgetting mine in a rickshaw between meetings (cue grandma laughing). And,
there is a good chance that I will get wireless internet in my apartment soon.
(cue me praying to any god of any faith that will listen on this front)
I have talked to my parents once,
my brother once on a much needed 2 hour , more or less disappeared from all
social media (spare some random political postings that I am torn about), and
have days where I feel COMPLETELY like I live on the other side of the world
from most of what my life has been thus far. And as my brother put it “That’s
because you HAVE!!” The bright side is that I am surrounded by HOLIDAYS!
a nonstop party of Holidays set to a 4/4 Anthem. Literally. Sometimes multiple occur within the same week. Indian
children get some crazy 80 days off of school a year due to holidays, the
majority of which are in the fall. The only one I have really celebrated thus far was
Ganpati. This festival celebrates the end of the monsoon season and the god GANESH. That is the one with an elephant head for those of you wondering. It ends up with a HUGE parade to the river with EVERYONE (literally) parading
floats from their neighborhood (or what they call “society”). This then spurns
a lot of loud music, some awesome costumes, and odd overly homo-erotic dancing
in the streets. (Mauricio and I attempted to partake and where pulled into the
throngs of dancing young men and then flung like ragdolls from gent to gent. There
was flailing, some grinding, and awkward eye contact. Needless to say, there
were many cultural questions to be had after.) But Dawali, THE FESTIVAL OF
LIGHTS, starts this week. I have no idea what I am about to experience, but I
know there are a lot lanterns, fireworks, and I got a little dish that I get to
burn things in oil. (cue the childhood pyro in my smiling from ear to ear.)
Notice how EKRAJ’s head looks like prayer hands and is based on a Parssi priest?
And notice how GARV’s body is made of recycled industrial objects? My favorite bit may be GARV’s gown made of all old leg XRAYS.
And then last week, I had the honor
of attending and teaching a workshop at the “inspirED” conference here in Pune.
I met a great man who has saved over 100,000 kids from child slavery, a woman
experimenting with pilot program of Health Education in Mumbai, and a lady who
is tackling the topic of universal INCLUSIVITY for women in Indian culture.
What awesome people! In the next
couple months, I will also travel to 4 other conferences around the country
defending why Music Integration is crucial to the academic success of all
Indian children.
Its interesting because recently I
have been reading a book about the death of Goddess worship called “The Chalice
and The Blade.” Its disappearance and my fellow Man are the reason why our
society is so violent and war driven. (I had started it originally as a means
to elaborate an idea I have for a show I want to write). But in the workshop I
co taught with my new ASTEP friend Andrea, I state that art is love. But more
importantly MUSIC IS LOVE. The first sense you use in life is the sense of
hearing. We hear the sound of our parent’s voice, whatever music they may play
us in the womb, and the sound of our mother’s heartbeat. Our sense of hearing
is so crucial that babies born with irregular heartbeats have 4/4 music placed
in their incubators to resync their heart. Crazy right? It is literally the
RHYTHM OF LIFE. And for me, music is the most peaceful and equalizing thing in
the world. It knows no religion, no race, no sexual orientation, no social status,
and is truly the great I AM. Therefore, MUSIC is the most powerful weapon in the
world. And as Moises Kaufman (The Laramie Project) said in a workshop I
attended at The Kennedy Center in April, “All Art is Political.” The fact that
Justin Bieber could be political makes my blood boil but think about it: our
societies have only ever changed for the better when music (art) has intervened
and led the people to want to change. No wonder those in charge (and those who
want to remain) don’t want the arts to be open to more walks of life. They then
dream of a better life and fight for it. The Arts=oppression gone. And, in the
US at least, being artsy is considering something for ladies and girl boys. But
guess what, it is pure love. It is the only place I ever felt I could be who I
wanted to be and not who others thoughts I should be, this was for my smarts or
my artistry or simply just me. And, it is a trickle down from the generations
of Goddess worship that came long before the Greeks. (cue me pulling out the Pagan Goddess statue made of lava I
bought at a garage sale in 6th grade that is still in my
possession). No wonder I haven’t really been able to relate to most modern men
in my life…I love the ladies. And I love peace. And I love equality. And I
can’t imagine a life without music. Wild how life connects itself that way right!!!
(I feel like I just entered a tangent equivalent to that of my father and have
no idea how to get out so cue the nonsequeter).
Two weeks ago, on Gandhiji’s bday
(that is how Gandhi is referred to—the “ji” is in respect to his ideals), the
kids decided to experiment with their Design For Change project by bringing joy
to the most trafficked thoroughfare in all of Pune. So on MG Road, we spent 3
hours walking up and down the street doing theatre, music presentations, miming
, and giving out what I was shouting were “JA DOO KEE JAPEE!” FREE HUGS. But
really, the translation is THE MAGIC OF HUGS. Needless to say, I excited some
and scared others. But, the hugs my mom has passed on to me for years finally
got passed on to the people of Pune. And let me tell you, we made a lot of
smiles happen. I even unintentionally stopped traffic for a while and took some
photos with some pedestrians. But then again, that could just be because
everyone here thinks I look like a WWE wrestler. (perhaps the cardboard cutout I
sent to my cousin Lindsay’s wedding as my stand-in was more insightful than
anyone had thought). Wham. Bam. Good night Maam!
(I promise more pictures ARE coming soon. But, internet in these parts is hard to come by. So, I upload as quick as I can. Thanks for your patience on this journey.)
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