Out-of-Practice

 Greetings!

I found this page again today. Something I had totally forgotten about. The last post dates back 5 years, and the first post must be from 2006!!! 

It is interesting to see that I had been struggling with some of the same dilemmas then, and to see that some of my issues have changed. In a sense this post right now is quite senseless since I don't think anybody used to read these then, and in honesty who remembers Blogspot?

But instead of doing something new from scratch, it's not a bad idea to be in continuation of the same journey. A sort of digital footprint and a testament. At this point in my last months of my third decade of living, I feel I need therapy.

In many ways this feeling of the need for renewal is filled with fears. I see the seemingly genuine efforts of the past, and see that I didn't achieve what I was too afraid to mention and ask for, and in the same vain my efforts now might be doomed for the same scattering. In some ways this is a blog about being out-of-practice, at least with blog keeping! And as I constantly feel, with music, and though I have lived all these years, teaching music, arranging, conducting, planning, organizing concerts, talking and thinking about music; there is ultimately the feeling of being out-of-practice with MY music.

In other ways though, this time I am hearing some words of encouragement, sometimes ever so faintly. And after all I'm older now and and compared to 2015, I have courageously enough managed some very intense and risky twists and turns in the road, and have proven a sense of response-ability to myslef. And a big other difference is that I am now no more alone. And I have come to the understanding that for me, life is not to be lived alone.

So what's different this time? This might be my midlife crisis. I have lost some hair. There is a pandemic, which gave me a chance to connect to my musical self a bit, and practice somewhat. These days I have a little bit more time. And I'm actually sharing material online, music and videos, and thanks to the pandemic there is more interest and it makes sense to share things there.

In fact I have a few little personal projects going. Some not so little, some little.

Let's mention them so I can see if any are done the next time I check in, perhaps in 2025.

    - Ostad Bahari solo imitation (Afshari) - 80% done

    - Gabelet's Jig (needs about 3-4 days of work if I want to do those 3rds)

    - Dobriden (I have made a track already but not the quality I am happy with)

    - Sharing the SoloTrio Improvisation from 2006 or so. (I want an animation with it).

    - Other kamanche stuff: Abu-Ata Lotfi / some Alizadeh stuff?

Asanas

Asanas:

It seems that in Iyengar yoga a relatively long beginning stage includes learning only asanas, not any combinations.

The most basic Tadasana (tree pose) required details in use of the feet, involvement of toes, activation of arches, calf muscles turning a certain spiral and the thighs the opposite, all practiced with blocks and ropes and belts separately overtime, a certain pulling in of the bones towards the joint (this would be blasphemy in Alexander Technique, and by the way required a certain careful abandoning of former ideas: “OK I’m in a new realm of ideology/practice, but I still don’t fully trust it, but I should try to an extent and see if my body really rebels.”), not to mention the use of the arms (I had a long struggle in use of my arms, the “internal rotation” which seemed impossible on the right side) the full and full extensions, and my tendency of an extra lift of the chest, causing a collapse of back (“Keep your back broad!” the teacher kept demanding.). On occasion, I felt in a pose, as if all the body was locked into something. It’s like the body is tied to itself with muscle activation and stretch, yet, you are asked to keep the face neutral, and the throat and belly soft. 

This is demand for the division of attention. Once in a while in a pose, midst the resistances and the inner fights, I feel the every part of my body actively participating.

Sometimes, it seems like a certain pose was made just for me, for my poor body, to cut through the physical and the emotional gunk that’s built up, and sometimes something very deep is addressed. I often realize it afterwards, when relaxed into shavasana, or when walking back to the subway station, deeply different from how I walked forth.

This is what I understand so far. More or less. I have doubts about shoulder stands, head stands, but I know they are good for my arms’ strength,… I asked about it once: “Why do we do shoulder stands?” Teacher said “I can’t talk about it in class. there is a lot of information online. For you, it’s good for your shoulders.”

The system is set up in a way that you are encouraged, you can complete levels, learn more and more complex poses, and then there are levels of advancement for teachers. So there is a desire to complete, to succeed. And there is a height, the towering peak that is displayed in images of Iynegar himself.  I look at his poses with a degree of curiosity, awe, disgust and doubt. Why would I do such a thing to my body. I prefer to be a beginner, so that my poses are less weird.

Another aspect of preference to other flow classes: at least there is some interaction with other people who take the class, we know each other a bit, we chat, we see each others’ weaknesses. In a way, the human connection is part of what makes me go back. In the usual drop in class, you are alone on your rectangular matt, in a very full room.

So why don’t I practice at home? Even only the few poses that I feel I know?

I Wish You the Best...

To say goodbye! 

For the last two days I've been a wreck: emotional, illogical, sad, lost, at moments totally devastated and lonely... It is hard to let go of her, with whom I have shared so much, with whom I have been most honest, whose sweet scent I last took in as I lay beside her, taste of her breath in mine I cherished in disbelief, in whose warmth and kindness I rested my head of worries, whom I held in my arms, whom I loved, and still love... I think...

Love is a big word. I know only that it is something to be learnt overtime. And our story together has been not a long story as stories go. And perhaps there is still so much to be learnt.

There are things I don't understand about myself, and there are things I don't understand about her. But every time after a final farewell she reminds me that she wants our friendship... I guess we will see what happens. What we share at the end is that we have spent some beautiful moments together.

What do you want? What do I want? Why can't things be easy? 

This day, after spending the morning in a disbelief, I sit in this coffee shop writing and I feel that I can accept. And that I must take care of my life.

What is love?

Lately I've had the strange experience of love to my musical instrument, my kamanche. What a beauty! this dead piece of wood, bone, metal, skin and hair!

Also with a baby, a good friend's toddler daughter, following two kitty cats up and down the stairs several times... in her unobstructed attention, her complete absorption of life around her, and her unexcused asking of attention, I felt the deep piercing rays of love. 

It is said that love is attention. 

I feel the desire to immerse myself in work, in practice of Taiji, in practice of music, in practice of teaching. There are still obstacles, there is momentum to overcome.

I wish you the best, my dear fellow traveller in this life journey, if this is where our ways part. There are things I wished for that didn't happen, but I'm glad I didn't leave behind the biggest desires of my life, and I was there as much as I could. No regrets! no blame! Some pain of loss! and tons of good wishes!

 

Yoga - Taiji

YOGA:

Why Yoga? I can't say much other than the experience of it satisfying a need, like water for thirst. I feel that my body needs it. And more practically, with Taiji working on the lower body, Yoga's work or arm and shoulders is essential for me a musician whose use of arms is so specific and repetitive.

Since I didn’t take note after last class. 2 classes so far: one preparations for pranayama, and this last class was preparations for standing poses and spirals. Pranayama was magical, feeling that each pose was exactly what was needed by my body and breath. This past week more of a struggle with the body, and confusion. But next day I felt it had addressed the problem I have in my right hip. I have a bit of a concern regarding that also.

So then why not practice?

Why not get up in the morning and do that?

Why not get that Swiss Army suite case on wheels you've been wanting for a long time?

TAIJI:

Why Taiji? The original reason behind it maters less that what it has turned into, which is training to be a warrior of sorts. Why do I need to be a warrior, or at least help recognize/nourish the warrior in me? A poor undeveloped, but undeniable part of being human, and again that experience deeply satisfies a real need to be firm while being smooth like water, assertive, self respecting, defending oneself, defending one's integrity, and the connection with energies of the breath, earth, and intention.

What I had planned fell through with cancelling of Tuesday eve class. So I should contact C (my teacher), and what was stopping me was the possibility of hanging out with N, and so I didn’t follow up, and so… Anyway, it’s C’s belated Birthday also, and she gave me a perfect gift, and I feel I can’t… So now my idea has turned into a private concert, or a semi private concert...

But every now and then when I breathe and practice the form, I feel certain that it changes my state.

Why Would Anyone Want to Listen to Me?

Why would anyone want to listen to me?

“I doubt I have anything worthwhile to contribute.” I wrote in reply to an invitation to be part of a presentation of music, arts and ideas.

And it began a bit of a questioning in me eventually. Do I really have anything worth someone’s time to come and listen?

I saw an acquaintance a few days ago who enquired about upcoming concerts. I said that there wasn’t much. But I must say I was surprised. He’s a frequent concert goer and a critic of sorts. He knows good from the bad, and is not easily fooled… Why, I wanted to ask, would you want to come hear me anyway when there is so much better stuff out there?

Today, I wonder: do I have anything to offer? Do I have anything worthwhile? 

The people who tell me about how they were touched by what I played, are they all fooling me, like I sometimes say nice things to people to be liked in return? Or is it the depressing poverty of their ears and minds which hasn’t heard much worthwhile?

I can see I don't have anything of my own to offer. So, have I discovered something worth sharing? why expressing oneself, as art sometimes supposedly does, appeals to listeners/receivers? I get that it’s good for the artist possibly but what use is it to the listener?

I'm thinking of the art of arrangement now, like arrangement of a piece of music for a different ensemble. Arranging is like being a curator, inviting artists you like and finding them a place to present, sometimes giving an introduction to their work, sometimes leaving them alone to shine, all in a way that helps engage listeners… 

Maybe that’s all there is to art, find things you like and show them, share them…  Share is a key word, isn’t it. Also that maybe I don't really have anything of my own... Perhaps it is just like being a good host. You don’t go to a party to see your host only, you go to see everyone who will be there. It’s interesting to see that though through my school I have hosted many events and several people, last time I personally hosted a get together was around 4 years ago....

Today's Work

I started today a lazy day, tossing and turning in bed till noon, facebook-ing on my phone, then satisfying myself with other imaginations; she whom I think I like, and she who called me ‘cutie’… And that’s enough to get me going.

I guess that the real work begins now, when I’m back, from a week of meditation. There I was locked in a system, held up, braced by the day’s order, the wake-up, the breakfast team, meditation, and working in teams being told what needs doing.

All this time, trees swaying in the woods - the embodiment of perspective, and the elders who’s slower, determined movements, and whose wholly manifested intonation inspired and reminded me of the fragility of my own youth. 

There was an air of forgiveness, my laziness could be taken as efforts, if I was late, no one scrutinized… We were all in the same boat I guess. 

Here, stakes are much higher, my job, my future, my reputation, my liveliness, my life really… And here, I don’t give a damn. 

Where is that whole-hearted gratitude? where is the awe? Where the child whose rebellious moods I tolerated simply, whom I was told i might want to look up to?

It’s like being taken to a sacred place by some mistake for a while, and then finding the fraud, being sent back… I don’t know if i want to go back, but I see that if it seemed hard and strange to be there, and how I wanted to get out, it was actually easier to be. 

Funny how even now, when emotions touch me again, I still prefer to swim in their waves and not get to the emails I have to sent, and the schedules I have to fix and the preparation needed for tomorrow’s class. 

No one asks “Shall I ring the bell?”. 

Breakthroughs and Sidewalks

I've been meaning to write for a while on a few occasions, but my home life has been real messy. So at home I don't get anything done, except wasting time in various ways.

1) I'm amazed at the possibility of learning at this age. Not that I'm old, but I'd assumed that I wasn't going to improve in my music (at least technique) after my 20s. I thought that I would mature in understanding, in depth, things like that; but not technique. I even recall a comment from a past teacher in a violin lesson that you will never play like in your 20s.

Now, in my mid-thirties, I'm finding that new breakthroughs are changing my playing. I'm surprised by the ease and clarity of tone and relative accuracy. Of course I hadn't been in-practice with violin for the past few years, at least not directly. So, yes! practicing helps! But I don't recall playing this comfortably years when I kept a more regular and rigorous practice.

This is in part thanks to a new friend, Bijan Sepanji, who gave a workshop to my students and through it unlocked something. I will get into the details later, but I should also thank my own work through teaching, and the giving up fixed ideas.

I struggled with poise and technique through the early years, not knowing what horrible things I was doing to myself. Through the explorations Alexander Technique helped quite a bit, and I was much influenced by Menuhin's methods. Eventually I gave up the shoulder rest, and rebuilt my technique based on a left hand that must support the violin. Mainly focused on the left hand, and it helped... But for the last few years, throughout my AT training, I've had a right side problem plagued by constant tension in the arm, hip, and sometimes twitches in the hip... Playing violin didn't really help, and despite my struggles to think through it, direct through it and all, just didn't get better, and violin made things more and more unhappy.

It's not easy admitting to oneself (and others) that I'd been wrong, but the beautiful ideas of before, were impractical and somewhat limiting. My problem hadn't been about the primary control, not about the head-neck-back relationship, but more related to the use of the bow and the sound production, dropping the weight of the arm,  a wording and thinking that was very strongly discouraged, and if I may say banned in our AT course! This is giving me so much more real musical ease also, and yes, AT and knowing the body helps immensely, but it's more natural.

Also having an aim helps greatly, a gig to prepare for, with responsibility, playing with a group that you like helps greatly. It all helps. And I'm amazed that I can still have breakthroughs.

2) It was my Birthday last week. Unceremoniously, I turned 34. "A bit older" my body tells me: growing the beginnings of a belly, losing some hair,... You know!, but still playfully jumping fire hydrants on the sidewalk and walking that narrow raised garden curb, still singing/conducting like a madman as my teens, and welcoming barriers and unpaved, un-pathy paths. Also, still a mess at home, and still solo.

At this point on this walk, I'm finding new endeavours too. Unexpectedly singing has entered through the back door! What a joy! and Taiji and Yoga, and all kinds of leadership, and organizational duties (great challenges), and then of course music is still there. Oh, and teaching!

Another interesting thing about this 34 is that now, at this spot on the road, I've spent 17 in Canada, and 17 in Iran. Exactly half-half! Not that bad a place to be, this sidewalk!