forward with michael

By Robbie on March 13, 2011

Less than a week to go to the Michael show. As always when assembling a multi-layered thing like this -- not just music but "a show" -- the progress feels iceberg-like and the setbacks sharp and definitive. The reality of x number of hours before showtime, along with the axiom that practice leads inexorably in the direction of improvement, are comforts to be resisted. The setbacks last week included a conflict that prevented one guy from making a rehearsal, giving up on nailing down a video projectionist for the date, and finding out that there is an early show on the 18th that interferes with our tech and runthrough plans. (If this ends up pushing back our start time I'll announce it here.) And, on the progress side of the ledger, the creation of a fantastically tall and terrifying puppet, some promising harmony vocalizing, an inspiration for an end-of-show tableau (so obvious given the Lincoln Hall architecture that it will shock you that it wasn't the first thing I thought of), and the augmentation of our Wee Thespian Society by one, a Mr. Joseph P. Dowd.

This is the first performance for which I've "written" (using the excellent Garage Band program) all the backing vocals myself, not counting performances on records. I did it because I had to -- I didn't think there was enough time to feel them out collectively at rehearsal -- but I enjoyed it, for the mental workout and for that little frisson you get when you hear five sterling voices make a chord that you thought might sound good and then actually does. If any singing sounds less than spot-on at the show, believe me, it's the singers' fault, not mine.

A significant part of my practice time last week was spent reconstructing, understanding, and mechanically memorizing the parts for "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough," which I've never performed since the day we tracked it in 2002. The released version represents about seven minutes' worth of the 19-minute-long version we worked up, and the one we're going to try at the show goes a few minutes into the "suppressed version" to clock in at about 10:00. For the opening section, the mandolin is in 6, the vocal and guitar parts are in 6 x 3 = 18 (but the 18's don't exactly overlap each other), the kick drum is in unzoned quarter beats, and the bassline, for some dumb reason, is in 5, so that it never hooks up with the others. On the cool-jazz section that follows the newgrass section, the bass plays an 18/4 figure while the guitar and mandolin play bars of 3 and 6; and there are a few group bars of 4, and a rubato part...I won't go so far as to say this worked on paper, nine years back when I charted it, but it undoubtedly made for a Mt. Everest-like effect: "Climb me!" The finished piece was flawed (one reason I edited it back) but I thought it had nice moments, and at our rehearsal we tried to clarify in places where the interlocking felt fuzzy, or more mathematical than musical. It's a little reckless when you go onstage with something that, if you stop mentally counting, you're permanently lost, and I guess some would question whether such music should exist in the first place.

Finally, I was lucky to find a free supplier for the lavolier mikes I need for the wee actors. This and not having a projectionist will save me between $200 and $350 and edge me toward profitability (like the state of Wisconsin). I hope this glimpse into my working life has stultified you. And reminded you to buy a ticket for March 18 at Lincoln Hall!

Sincerely,

RF