First Track

Last night we recorded “Out on the Ocean / Morrison’s Jig / Kesh Jig,” one of my favorite medleys. They’re fun tunes, and I like the way we’ve structured the medley. We each take turns dropping out, so that the first Out on the Ocean is just fiddle and dulcimer, the first Morrison’s just fiddle and guitar, and the first Kesh just dulcimer and guitar.

My parts have some fun variety, as I play chords for Ocean, melody for Morrison’s, and alternating melody and chords for Kesh. I also get to use some Irish long rolls in the two later jigs, an ornament I learned from Karen Ashbrook. We do a cool chord progression for Morrison’s that I learned from Don, a multi-instrumentalist who plays at the O’Hurley’s jam in Shepherdstown WV and helps out with the dulcimer festival there.

We started out still working on mics and set-up, playing a couple of other medleys to test recording levels and such. When we found a set-up we liked, we decided to go for it. We recorded seven takes. We all made some errors, some more glaring than others. But we all seemed most happy with the final take. Once we’ve listened to them all carefully, we may be happy enough with it to make it the first official CD track.

I’m glad that we agreed to pick a handful of pieces to record first. I’ve practiced them pretty diligently, and that gave me a sense of confidence and freedom last night.

Published in: on March 31, 2005 at 8:24 pm  Comments Off on First Track  

Preparations

Last fall The Hanshaw Trio started talking about recording a trio album. We’d recorded two trio pieces for my most recent solo CD, but it’s not the same as having a recording of our own.

In January we started rehearsing, going through our repertoire and choosing which pieces we might want to record, deciding which arrangements might need tweaking, and experimenting with sound equipment. Now we’re about ready to start recording.

This will be a very different project than my two solo CDs, with new methods and new challenges.

First of all, we’re recording in Craig’s home studio. He’s got a computer recording program, some device that allows us to plug four mics into four channels in that program, preamps, and of course mics and stands.

A different setup than Henry Smith’s digital tape recorders at Outback Studio in Mechanicsville VA, or Will Russell’s massive ProTools system at Electric Wilburland Studio in Newfield just south of here.

We still have some experimenting to do to find the best way to configure all this equipment; for one thing, we may just do the three instrument mics, or we might add a central “room” mic.

Another difference, and a challenge for me, is that we’ll be recording as a live ensemble. On my previous projects, I’ve recorded one track at a time; because I was the one playing most of the tracks, I couldn’t do them simultaneously. Layering tracks like this allows more control, too, which is appealing to us perfectionists.

On the other hand, recording as an ensemble means we’ll get something closer to what we get when we perform live — the shared energy and responsiveness that happens when we’re working together.

The challenge for me is to figure out how to appease my perfectionism while still striving for that live sound. I think what I need to do is practice a lot, developing strong solid parts as well as practicing improvisation, so that I’ll be less likely to make mistakes or get lost during recording. That work will improve our live show, too, so it’s a welcome challenge.

Published in: on March 18, 2005 at 8:21 pm  Comments Off on Preparations  

This is the Day

This is the day that you have made
Come be Lord of the day
(You who are my Lord)
This is the day that you have made
Come be Lord of the day

Keep an eye on the heavens and the earth
Orchestrate nature’s dance today
Keep an eye on all the people — and on me
Hold us, and embrace our hearts today

O lifter of my head, raise my eyes to you
Sweep away the clouds that would obscure my sight today
And wash away the dust that clings that would weigh me down today

I offer you my hands, I offer you my feet
My eyes and my ears, I offer you my speech
And even the inner places, where my heart is
I offer you the whole of it, be Lord of me today

This is the day that you have made
Come be Lord of the day
(You who are my Lord)
This is the day that you have made
Come be Lord of me and all the people
Come be Lord of sky and earth
Come be Lord — come, be Lord —
Come be Lord of the day.

© 1994 Marcy Prochaska, all rights reserved.

I’m easily overwhelmed. It’s good to be able to put things back in perspective, to remember who is Lord over all that overwhelms me.

In the summer of 1994 I was in Africa, overwhelmed.

A college student, I was on a short term missions trip with Wycliffe Bible Translators to see if, as I hoped, this might be a good career fit for me. Wycliffe folks work to provide people with the Bible in their own language; it takes years to learn the language, develop a suitable orthography (writing system, like an alphabet for example), teach folks how to read and write, and translate the Scriptures. I was a linguistics major precisely because I thought Wycliffe was a great way to be a missionary — a nice concrete structured task of translation, unlike the more fuzzy work of church planting or evangelism.

Our tour started in Kenya, where the eight of us heard lectures from various Wycliffe members, learned some Swahili, and saw the sights. Then, we split up. Four stayed in Kenya, where they spent a day or two each at a variety of Wycliffe sites. Two guys went to Isiro, Zaire, to spend three weeks with one missionary family, the Sawkas. Jen and I went to Egbita, a few kilometers away, to live with the Nelsons.

Up until this point, I hadn’t felt particularly overwhelmed. It was all very exciting and interesting. I especially loved the flight from Kenya, in a tiny six-seater plane — oh my! you know you’re flying when you’re in a little plane. The same flight discouraged Jen, and she felt more and more overwhelmed as our time went on. She coped by serving. I understood that this was her way of coping, and so I stayed out of the way. Being out of the way, I felt out of the way. Alone, unwanted, and possibly resented for not helping, even though if I had helped I would have gotten in Jen’s way. I had nothing to turn to; Jen also coped by playing guitar and singing, so I stayed away from that. I tried to write letters but could not bring myself to say anything. Likewise reading and journalling were unhelpful. I felt hurt and sad, and guilty for feeling such self-pity, and betrayed and abandoned because I was doing what I felt to be right and yet it hurt and was unacknowledged.

I so looked forward to rejoining our team. Then I would be welcomed again. I wouldn’t feel marginalized anymore. And I wouldn’t need to sacrifice myself to make way for another’s coping mechanism. Ha! Had I forgotten everything about my social skills, or rather, lack thereof? The rest of the team had bonded in their three weeks together. How could there be a place for me? I knew I would be tempted to withdraw defensively, to isolate myself and avoid the risk of new rejections. I fought valiantly against that temptation, I tried so hard to stay involved with the group. That hurt so much.

Towards the end of the trip, during our debriefing time, I went out to pray. I found myself praying the first two lines of this song. I found a melody, and continued the poem, sorting out the things I knew to be true, remembering both that I was just one part of God’s world, and that I was indeed part of God’s world.

During the debriefing Jen and I were able to talk out what had happened to and between us in Zaire, and we were reconciled.

I still fight the temptation to withdraw from social life because it hurts so much.

I continue to seek perspective, to remember both the bigger picture, and the significant place I have in it because God loves me.

This is the day that you have made
Come be Lord of the day

Published in: on March 14, 2005 at 9:58 am  Comments (1)  

Mostly Celtic

My band, the Hanshaw Trio, has been booked for a St. Patrick’s Day gig at the Moosewood Restaurant here in Ithaca.

One of the persistent questions in my musical life is the question of identity. There are musicians who are experts in a particular tradition like Irish music, or Renaissance, or Baroque; they study their genre by listening to recordings, studying with masters, doing research in music libraries, and so on. Then there are musicians who just do their thing, working on their own and developing their own ideas and techniques. And all sorts of others in between.

“Who’s right?” is probably not a proper question. Musical identity depends on the musician’s interests, learning style, background, passions, gifts, etc.

If you come to our show, you won’t be getting authentic Irish music. I have very little background in it — I played a year or so with a guy who knew Irish music well, and I took a class on Irish ornamentation for dulcimer, and I have some recordings with some Irish music on them, and that’s about it. Our fiddler is in the same boat I think. Our guitarist comes from a rock and roll background.

But does that mean you should be disappointed in our show? Or that the Moosewood should be embarrassed to promote it? Or that we should feel ashamed of our lack of “authenticity?” I don’t think so. We play a lot of Irish and other Celtic tunes, and some other things, and we play them the way we like them. We’ve got energy, good rapport with one another, and some creative arrangements. Our instruments sound great together. It’s not like we’re promoting ourselves as a traditional Irish band — we call ourselves “mostly Celtic,” and that’s what we are.

Come to the show and hear for yourself.

Published in: on March 2, 2005 at 1:08 pm  Comments Off on Mostly Celtic  
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