Edmonton, Alberta... So long...

Damn, DAmn, DAMN it's cold up here. It's been well over 8 months since I documented, chronicled or even just updated stuff for myself on Cyberspace, I'll have to zap through that recap. In that time I've all around the Damn Country, met some amazing and not so amazing people. Done some incredible things, met some incredible people - had my heart broken, mended and uplifted; I purchased the Wii video game, and the Wii Fit and to top it off - shortly  thereafter, I had my first official holiday meltdown.

I am blessed to say that after that episode which involved a heartwarming trip into the NYC right before Christmas, and a very relaxed Christmas Day - I just put Life into perspective and just made a point to make sure that I set up emotional, personal and creative Priorities. I can now say that I have - I am making sure that I put into action all the ideas that I have for creative projects that shall help sustain me for sometime. Post - Holiday Meltdown, as I flew to Sacramento, CA I was literally warmed by the thought of warmer weather, performing and getting ready for the new year. It was great to see everyone at the Theatre which was just across the street from us. Better yet, I was not expecting the quirky, edgy and convenient vibe of downtown, which bled right into an even edgier and local - funky midtown, very accessible by foot. Long THoughtful Walks were quite an occurrence with me, not just into Midtown, but also by the Town Hall which had a beautiful conservatory with all kinds of trees, and monuments and paths to walk on.

Mentally - at that point in Sacramento, it's as if I decided to truly acknowledge how comfortable I am with myself, and just chill and relax. Still testing and exploring the waters of being personably professional, and still being emotionally accessible to myself and others whenever needed, I'm recalling that shows were fun, lots of laid back festiveness with our secret santa holiday party, and good food and drink surrounding us.  The weather was warm, my joints and bones were happy, people around me were happy, and the little bead shop around the corner and up the street from the hotel was an occasional haven, as were some of the little restaurants. It was such a pleasure to be part of the New Years celebration in Sacramento, the first ever ball West Coast Ball Drop of the New Year - our cast was literally Stomping in the New Year in downtown Sacramento, and I personally was so glad to bring in the New Year doing something I am nuts about - Performing. I will admit, when that ball began to drop i got a little emotional just thinking about 2008 and what it meant emotionally for me, and folks around me, and on the other side of the country and all over the world. Politically, Emotionally, Financially, Personally - so many things ran through my mind as I saw that ball get lower to 2009, and I just saw how cool and okay everything Truly Was, and how even better it was Gonna Be. That being said - I  knew I pushed my limits festively when the next week I ended up doing shows with a fever and body aches and a recuperating immune system, but considering it was California, and how much fun I was having, it was quite a pleasure.

Sacramento was hip,diverse, trendy - and I got a kick out of the hippie crew that stood on the corner street across from our hotel holding a peace sign, and a  love everybody sign, and I've never seen more retro-pop that's non trendy anywhere so far in this country, as I have in Sacramento. Thank goodness for the black lady at the front desk who told me about her reverends barbershop, because I got myself a cute shape-up  on my Fro-Hawk - complete with designs and fades - just in time for New Years Eve. It must have looked good  - one girl asked if I danced with Janet Jackson after she saw the New Years Celebration performance ;~).

In a strange comparison - Costa Mesa, was a little less unique - the view to our theatre was practically straight out of Architecture's  Digest, complete with reverberating sound chamber, valet parking at out theatre, and there were manicured palm trees damn near everywhere, it was so warm and sunny. It wasn't till I walked past the High End mall with Louis Vuitton (I'm can't even afford to spell it right), Barney's, Saks Fifth Avenue, Burberry's - over the bridge and into a little plaza, that I found an incredible deli in the back of a Liquor Store and proceeded to eat my amazing egg salad sandwich with great coleslaw and potato chips - all under $7. I was even next to a dance studio that had pole fitness class, but that possibility faded when it got cold and I started to walk home, but not before I ran into a co-worker who was gassing up his rent - a car from a snowboarding trip. So i hopped in the car, went to enterprise, got a ride home - and then went out and got some cupcakes I had drooled over when I walked past the shop, but opting not to ruin my lunch, thus making room for my amazing egg salad event. The rent - a - car  wait was worth it. I love cup cakes. Delicate, fluffy, Strawberry iced Cupcakes. I'm glad I gave the rest to the other girl I saw right before I got back to the hotel -they were intended for them and myself - but 5 seconds longer and I would have rescinded that intention and gobbled them all up. Wasn't expecting to have a mini Stomp reunion while we were there, but I saw people I had worked with,and trained with and had yet to work with that week; rehearsal was a fun, intense, emotional but fun and challenging event.

Now... I'm here in Edmonton, Alberta. We spent last week in Calgary. Aside from the nice hotel staff  the nice man at the supplement store, and theatre folk, including our wonderful promoter and her schnauser, Bailey - that city did not know what to do with Black Folk. Just in general, not specifically. Specifically, the guy whose store I supported with buying much needed supplements was heaven sent, fit, older, knowledgable - he made my visit to Calgary well worth the  near mishap of me almost desperately buying vitamins at the supermarket.I wasn't really into it, but hey - The things I have to do for my art. Edmonton, on the other hand - divers, bustling, funky, odd, accessible, friendly, curious, random, cold. I can work with that. Speaking of random, we were getting ready to go to the theater when I saw a group of men clad in Plaid and various degrees of scottish folk wear  as we left. Coming back, I sat in the lounge and per a long heartfelt conversation in regards to the purpose of the gathering with a great couple from NewFoundland - i found out that is was the 250th celebration of Robert Burns Birthday; the man who wrote Auld lang Syne. Apparently, at this gathering, no women were allowed, and in this case the fellow I met was Greek and Scottish, his wife was bubbly and friendly so it was a great time to just sit and share stories how we all came to that place in Edmonton. Topics about legacy, his culture, how he came to this plane, how she survived a challenging marriage, diving, boating - how I got into stomp, what was I doing before, President Obama, Education, war, destiny just flowed in and out - and I'm so glad I was able to just talk with people who were not part of this Broadway Production, about things that mattered to me.

Right now, I have to get ready to rest before we fly. After a double yesterday, and a whole day off - I spent the first half watching the show and doing laundry and came back and wrote and packed - I'm a bit sleepy, and my travel habits usually tend to veer towards stand-offish, removed, non-associative and distant, that's with sleep and a board time after 10 am. This time is the crack of dawn, and I'm determined to get enough rest so as not to be a grumpy, groggy, sleep-deprived, weary, albeit Professional Road Warrior

Lets see how that goes....

WOW. HOLY Sh*t...!

Hail to President Obama

It's taken me a few days to digest what I saw up here while I am in Canada - it has been several months since I took the time to blog and even though the New Year was a few weeks ago - this truly is the correct time and place for me to write my thoughts on what I saw January 20th 2009 around noon...

My own recognition of this process was very understated and personal - I didn't engage much in the national hype, and I made my voting decision based on a president who may not entirely agree with me on everything, but whose administration would support me as a free thinking artist, and alternative and progressive minded black woman. So watching on Election night as the whole country celebrated Obama's victory, and then getting used to the fact that he was our president elect for a few months while he made administrative domestic and international decisions and  the media gave us a glowing, curious and bit star-studded glimpse of the the Obama family, and then President Elect Obama. I was, and still was in awe and a little bit dazed about the victory, and was reserved in my fervour, even with his acceptance speech.

I was prepared for all of that - nothing steadied me for the shock as I watched the inauguration beginnings of seeing the camera focus on the two first daughers to be and the first grandmother to be as they walked out of the inaugural platform. It was stunning to see the first ladies walk out, Michelle with the Abraham Lincoln Bible in her hand - and my mouth literally dropped open and hung there when the camera was on President Elect Obama and he walked out. At that point - President Bush looked like a shadow of a person, after they played Hail to the Thief - excuse me - Chief for him for the last time...

I was pretty close to tears, and it wasn't until the musical invited guests for the inaugural ceremony started to perform; which included Yo-Yo Ma, Isaac Stern and Aretha Franklin that I just started to cry. When Aretha sang my country tis of thee, tears were welling. By the time the quartet with Yo-Yo and Isaac started performing a great arrangement of Simple Gifts by Aaron Copeland, and the camera panned over the mall that was full of people as far as the eye could see, and it was noon - so the law of the land deemed it that OBama was President by then - so Yo-Yo and company literally played Obama into Presidency; tears were streaming down my face. When Obama got up to take the oath and his wife was inbetween the official giving the oath I was flat out weeping, I hicupped a little when the swearing got muddled but I may have been full out sobbing at that point. I can barely recall. The Poet Laureate Elizabeth Austen gave such a wonderful poem that was so simple and grass roots, it reflected the different kinds of people and their basic grind in life, but we all have a hope and a reason to celebrate life.

Throughout the televising of the ceremony and celebration - i would just randomly start bawling. What got the waterworks going for me after the swearing in is hearing stories of people like COngressman Joe Lewis and Bishop? Reverend? Lowery - both people who had seen and literally raised the civil rights movement and worked with pioneers who had fallen along the way, like martin luther king, and even Bayard Rustin (an out gay black man who singlehandedly organized the civil rights march on Washington); that they never thought they in all the work they had done, that the day would come when they would actually see and witness a black man sworn in for president. The benediction by Lowery was amazing and his plea for safety and social justice and service was really poignant but tongue in cheek towards the end, with political race slogans for each race recited. And all of this was the day after MLK. What a legacy....

When President Obama and First lady Michelle waved off the Bushes - I have never been so happy in my Life to see a plane get smaller and smaller in the air, I actually waved. I felt one second of love and pity for Former President Bush when I actually saw him actually emote and engage President Obama and First Lady in a great good bye hug. We were tough on that old confused bird of a president, but he asked for it. Another moment that had me crying profusely was when the Presidential Motorcade got underway and that first walk that President Obama and the First Lady took. When the door opened and they stepped out of the car, the President first and then First Lady Michelle - I just lost it. A brown couple surrounded by  Secret Service Men getting out of USA-1 and walking down the Ave, waving and smiling in that cold washington air - I was glued to my set and had to breathe slowly so I could calm down. Just the picture of that is also burned into my mind forever. Canadians up here like Obama - so when the motorcade drove by the Canadian Embassy and the Royal Police were in formation on the embassy steps at full attention, that was really touching. People were out by the thousands to see him, and it was amazing to see and hear how many people came to look at the parade and watch the motorcade.

I think of all the pictures and commercials I saw the eve of the inauguration - especially in canada where they don't censor anything. A little brown girl walks past a museum piece of MLK, and they pan in on her, and her shirt says " Future President". Pictures of youth and kids at the rally's against a huge picture of Obama. A little girl looking knowingly into the camera against a backdrop of the President, while sitting on her dad's shoulders. Pictures of senior citizens black and white just next to each other looking at President Obama getting sworn in. If there ever was a media frenzy to be had - this was it, I'll say that. The whole world was watching that day, and people were rooting for all of america.

I'm still in a sense of shock - but it is wearing off, I think it's necessary we hold on to this accomplishment getting a black man into office - but I want to be active and do my part so I can feel like an Included American. It's  not like I coudn't have done this before, but I really felt like nothing I would have done would have made a difference. Then again, I supposed I could have done it, not because my President Says So, but because somewhere out wherever I am, It Does Make A Difference... to someone, or something. I'd like to figure out how to be more active politically on the Road. I'm not sure why I feel so energized politically, I wonder if I just got used to feeling like I could get whisked away at any minute for being outspoken so I just became safe and little resentful. I shall figure out a way to fix that while I am on the Road....

Either way, I'm excited - especially for my brother, my sister and law, their daughter, and another child on the way; a beautiful  racially mixed family that can raise children in an era of a black man for our president. I know it's not going to be easy, look what was left for him - so it makes sense that it is going to be a challenging time ahead.

As I write this, I still keep blotting my eyes, even the day of the inauguration - I was fortunuate to be able to see it (thanks RD), the whole day was a struggle to not burst into tears, and it wasn't just that fact that it was a black person for president - it was just the fact that my whole mindset and reality as a black queer woman just got turned upside down. I owe it to myself to get inspired from the people around me, learn from those who came before, and hopefully that will help me pass on what I've taken. I've got no excuse to limit myself - accepting that, and seeing proof of that as I watched our 44th president get sworn in made me reevaluate and rethink. I'm not used to seeing a black person for president, I'm not used to seeing a Black Family in the White House. This has made me confront within myself how much I had to fight as a black woman, how many black men, and men of color have to prove themselves on so many levels to so many people. It's gonna be easy, but hard at the same time - President Obama has reached a goal, and I'm wondering how those like me, and likeminded like me can continue to maintain this amazing Standard. It's not enough for me to Just Be right now, I have to Continue to Achieve

GodDamn...
I'm back at work and my head is full of percussive tones that come from wood, metal. plastic, paper, boots and rhythm and music itself. What I thought was rhythmic noise that I work with, with a few melodic references, has now become melodies that peek and poke their harmonic tones at me at every doggone turn. I love it - its disconcerting, energizing and I feel like I am hearing STOMP again, but with focus on music, lots of tone. I am in Des Moines, IA and I like downtown, it's not rich or decrepit, but just the right amount of economic and cultural diversity with museums and realistic modes of public transportation. We came in from Waukegan, IL - navy bases and tacquorias. Little Mexico. I actually craved a visit to Mexico just being there.
Coming back from five days of the most intense, creative and vocally artistic project that I have done so far to date, it's just as intense being away from it as it was being in it. The days that ensued up to the concert were some of the most practical, innovative, passionate and trying moments. From games with odd meter, and exercises in vocal and cellular synchronicity, and flat out counting games that had all of our senses so tweaked and taught to circle songs in which we would change a sections parts as a song was still going, and making up sentences with each word being a tone. Somehow, when we divided up into 4 groups of five and had to come up with one tone per group; sing a word with the same tone "Well Who am I now?", and go around in a circle -  we ended up doing the chord progression for Pachbel's Canon in D. Am I surprised? Nope. It was just one of those amazing and justified moments that obviously had a lot of humour, but at the same time showed how just on the second day we were on the same wavelength. Bobby just kind of stared in query and then in registered wonder and laughter as we simultaneously built the chord progression singing " well who am I now?" to Canon in D - complete with different parts...
I still am inwardly shaking my head at how many different styles of singing there were, and even more fascinating were the people were also auditing the class, just watching and taking stuff in. At first instinct, I felt defensive after having created a little vocal bubble, and going into the next room for lunch and seeing all these other people, but then understanding they are here to take observe and also have amazing varied backgrounds and stories. There was a young woman from japan who sings traditional japanese music, who balked when I told her I worked with a Stomper from Japan - she knew exactly who I worked with. I met another young man observing the class who flew in from Tibet. He loves to sing Rock and Funk. I encountered another woman from Austria who runs a program at a university that works specifically with improvisation year round. She has been to every known dessert and hung out with every known nomad tribe. Just hearing  from the auditors angle  why and how they came to this workshop was incredible, and they also were a resource and a great way of tracking our progress throughout the workshop.
Bobby McFerrin himself is just a quirky, talented, insightful, compassionate, protective visionary. I spent most of the workshop watching as he would trance out as he would sing everything and every genre at a moments notice, almost like he was thinking out loud. It's like what he said earlier, improvisation is Motion, it's Movement and he is always moving therefore, he is always improvising. I got a feeling that he was thinks out loud with his voice, with his song - he literally would sing a Bach fugue then wonder into tonal gibberish and then emerge into a parody of a mobster and then have us do choral calisthenics.
Over the past few months, my improvisation as far as words, and tunes and melody has just grown and quite honestly it was confirmed in the workshop - Bobby told us that there were going to be several of us he would pull to just make up a song with a theme that he gave us. How neat was it to see folk just go up and make up songs, on random themes. One vocalist, a short female  caucasian funk bombshell improvised on the theme of Thirst. My dear roomate - a  Classi-phly jazz chocolate woman who could scat up and down and around for days went off on Zebras, another jazz head tall thin white and unassuming blazed through another theme and I sang mellowly and curiously about the First Rain. Another vocalist had mcFerrin in stiches as he had the alto section singing this odd meter riff that was meant to be a melodic vocal fall, but ended up mimicking cawing crows" Caw...Caw...Caw...Caw....", that  combined with the forward physical motion that was meant to frame the riff - it just cut this strange, odd picture. I look around and my eyes fall on people to see if I'm the only one noticing how comical it looks, and I see Bobby start to giggle, then his face wrinkle and then his eyes water, and then stick his head into someone's shoulder and then just loose it completely. I have never seen a black man turn red/orange until that moment... we regrouped, and proceeded with the excercise.
We had two amazing theatre coaches come out and explain their roles in the goal of  helping us produce and put together this biblical piece of the Tower of Babel while having us be the best that we could each potentially be. Little did we all know that they would become the best stage moms we had ever had, or at least I did. How were we supposed to know, or rather - I'm suprised we didn't see ourselves creating our own Tower of Babel, until one of my fellow vocalists/Babelonian blurted out as we had a lunch break, after a particlularly  ego filled and communication challenged rehearsal, that we were ourselves as a group "Building the Tower of Babel". I laughed long and hard. So on point was she, I saw the ideas, thoughts, suggestions and creative concepts flurry about higher and higher and almost come crashing down around our ears that rehearsal, but it was so true to the tale. Simply put: The story of the Tower of Babel is a biblical rendition of how language came into the world. People wanted to make a tower so high to reach God, and they thought this tower was so amazing that they turned their backs on God. God smote them, the tower came crashing down, egos were melted - people began to, well - Babel, and looking for other people they could communicate with, set forth into the world and thus began the creation of dialect and Language. We were to put on an Instant Vocal Opera of this story - using Vocal Improvisation

Amazing.

Not Just in Theory - but in Reality. Maybe I'll get to that later...

Thank heavens for moments of musical understanding and vocal epiphany. So wonderful were the moments where I connected with someone who had a completely different style than me and we collaborated tonally and stylistically. How damn amazing was it that we each got to sing and expose ourselves with mcFerrin in our own way and style? and I honestly feel I did exactly that as me; I sang my name and Sang my style with Bobby. We all laughed when one vocalist got into a vocal samurai fight that  How proud of everybody was I the first day for being real, warm, honest, musical and for the most part damn professional. What group isn't a group with someone who has a differing take on things? and it's challenge yet an opportunity for insight at how a person deals and copes with their perceptions versus others at varying levels.
As a organizational tool that would become a structure for this project, the first day our coaches had us use clumps as a means of describing ourselves. We would stand in a circle and our coach a first would call out a description and we would step into a smaller circle if we felt it described us. All kinds of clumps were called out, female clumps, male clumps, gender clumps, artistic clumps, language clumps, musical genre clumps; someone yelled out funk clump, and six of us just broke into a funk grove, opera and jazz likewise with other folk. Movement clumps, age clumps, culture clumps, tempo/odd meter clumps, just a crazy assortment of every kind of commonality. Even moving around in the typical group therapeutic way of the "Language of Love", had its benefits - we looked like a PBS documentary on art therapy, moving around in our perceived embodiments of Love. Again, the clumps became a fixture, and a reference point and also a means of structuring the Opera, which with the help of a neutral and insightful "Babylonian", gave us a chance for all of us to shine in the final performance, as well as create a vocal landscape with which we conveyed  this Biblical Tale.

So many anecdotes about this workshop are flying through my head, I'm just so glad my roommate, also another woman of color was a great person I could relate to especially about stories of Race, Art and Music, and how at points she was frustrated with the lack of opportunity where she lived, being so close to a University system. After the workshop, it was not unusual for us to meet up later in the room and just discuss with great admiration everyones sound and how we felt about the workshop and more of our thoughts on Life, Love, School, Music and of course - Hair. We got along so well - before leaving Naples, FL for the workshop, I knew I was getting in late - so I left a message in her room, on her voicemail. I got to my room and waiting up for me was my roomate, a hug and honest conversation as I got myself ready for bed and the workshop ahead.

The days leading up to the show at Carnegie Hall were such a whirlwind of notes, tunes, excercises in odd meter, improvisation, happy moments as the concert got closer. Our first rehearsal at Carnegie Hall's Zankel Hall had me burst into the hallway giddy beyond comprehension and understanding, as on the way there I walked past this huge publicity poster titled Young Artists Concert with Bobby McFerrin that had our names, headshots and with Bobby's creds: all under the Carnegie Hall sign. We had time before we had rehearsal, so of course I dragged everyone out to see the poster and we all just stared in disbelief and giggled and pointed as we all saw ourselves and Bobby on this huge poster, that would later have a red sign under it saying "Sold Out". We also got a tour of Carnegie Hall - and mostly hung out with the Carngeie Hall archivist who came over from Italy years ago to initially study conducting. I won't ever forget his words urging us to Keep your Mind and Heart Open because you never know what or where Life could lead you. He started out at Carnegie Hall as an usher, then ended up as the backstage manager - he has met Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, seen them at the end of their careers and met people like Yo-Yo Ma when he was at the beginning of his. He ended up as the archivist sort of by accident his job was to put together material for Carnegie Hall's anniversary I can't remember which one. But he started out with a rolodex, an ad in AARP and somehow along the way ended up with a stack of records and a clarinet from the Benny Goodman estate - the latter of which was one of the first recorded performances at Carnegie hall in which people paid to see jazz. At one point Marlon Brando used to live in the Carnegie Apartments above the hall and there were also acting classes in which many famous icons studied. At  one point in Brando's career, it was discovered that he lived there, and women would walk up and down the halls screaming his name - the archivist received a box from a woman who would hide him when he was being sought after, and in it were several notes thanking her for her space. I realized that just as important as the artifacts from various known artists and musicians, was also the story of how he got them. I stared at a pair of Ella Fitzgeralds glasses, we looked hungrily at Benny Goodmans clarinet and listened to how he let a really good clarinet player play it and they said it probably was the finest thing they would ever play in their life. We pored over a program of the Beatles performing at the Hall and gawked over the fact that the archivist paid $6000 with a misprint (John McCartney), and then surmised it was okay because Benny Goodmans clarinet was valued at well over a million and that was a gift. We heard tales of Bob Dylans manager , who is no longer in the US because he won't pay US taxes, grabbing people off the street to come see this skinny curly haired husky voiced folk singer play in Carngies Kaplan Room. The program for that was 6 inches from my nose. Stories about Liza Minelli selling out the Hall and having her picture on the wall around the theatre over and over again because they used to put your picture up on the wall if you sold out Carnegie Hall.  Tales of people walking the extra 20 or 30 blocks to see a show at Carnegie hall, and coming to see Sir Arthur Conan Doyle speak on the topic of life on the Other Side. Giggling while listening to the archivist compare artists like Ella and Frank who would come in with their dress or suit and say "where is my room?", to other talent who would have a bloated entourage and when it was time to clear the area, no one would leave because they thought they were all important. Not only was our archivist well connected and in touch with every connection known to archiving, but was also an incredible storyteller, and it was simply the fact that he had an upcoming appointment with a silver haired woman who used to work with Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald that he had to end our session. That place has so much history... Andrew Carnegie was also a tinkerer/mechanic/engineer and had a generator in the vicinity and when the city would black out - it would often be that generator that would power that vicinity. We could have stayed all day listening and looking at facts, but we had rehearsal and lunch.

Just doing a professional sound check with the two sound folk that have flanked Bobby throughout his whole career, was eye opening for me. First we got a stern lecture about Carnegie Hall's Union Rules, if we moved a stool we would get in trouble, and we couldn't think near the stage if it wasn't our time - sound familiar? :P. Second, just walking onto stage was breath taking in itself. It was my second time back to this place, and I really savoured how this hall felt. It had a light bamboo texture and it seated about 7 or 8 hundred and it was just perfect. Rehearsal started with our sound check, and it was a great way for us to just support each other as we learned how to hold and use our microphones, and vocally adjust and experiment with our various tones and sounds.  Truth be told, as much as we were excited to be in that space - I think all of us had a sacred moment within ourselves as we looked around. Learning how to blend with each other as our sound personnel helped us mix our tones, and just using the idea that the microphones as an extension of ourselves was a lesson I will always use for the future.

Throughout the workshop, I was reminded that there was always one level within myself I could go beyond my comfort zone. At one point - we were rehearsing in a semi-circle, Bobby had us turn towards each other in pairs. A number of things happened at that juncture. I looked into the eyes of a six foot counter-tenor from Boulder, CO. A classically trained Weapon.  There was a mutual moment in which we decided to take each other in. At first the urge to look away was very overpowering, but I fought it with every essence I owned, and I found myself literally falling into his soul, looking at his features wondering at the hue of pinkness, his eyes, his hair, his glasses, his story... so many points. Bobby urged us to sing, chatter in tones and tongues some classic, some made up - and the amazing thing is that as me and my counter tenor were conversing in concocted gibberish (language being the theme here), I swore I understood what he was saying. Lanugage, chatter, gibberish literally flowed in and out of the circle at points, in waves, harmonic and energetic and I just heard and felt improvisation and music in its rawest form together. THere was also a moment where two or three genres came together; middle eastern, celtic and even a cappella and just grooved and harmonized - it was a unifying moment, and it was amazing to hear people out of there element blending so well. We spoke about that moment for a while after the rehearsal session.

The rehearsal at Carnegie Hall really put alot in perspective as far as, seaming the structure of the Opera together, putting together random moments, and throwing out random ideas in regards to tweaking various points. Some people dealing, and even creating their own Tower of Babel. Lets just say that in regards to the clumps - there was what I would call a clumpectomy of sorts - the celtic/middle eastern fusion  phenomenon that had us all talking and amazed, had been severed to striclty Middle Eastern, and to be honest - it really was no suprise. But in the end product - I could see why it ended up being just that genre - it was powerful, beyond words. Also, in regards to management and coaching vying for a Balanced Voice - there was a lot of tension there, and after a tense yet assuring and focusing speech urging us  on being confident to work and play around the structure we had gotten into, I felt nervous and okay, and actually felt like an artist working with other artists on a collaboration, caring about the finished product - knowing it was going to be fine as the Tower felt like it came crashing down and would somehow rebuild itself. Of course I woke up the next morning panicking and therefore babbling about the damn presentation all together  - my roommate bade me to calm down, listen to what was said in regards to the structure and just see what would happen. We got to the rehearsal space that morning, and all my worries were laid to rest, and our Workshop Director had put together a structure that would showcase all of us. Genius. All of our hearts brimmed and bubbled at her plan, and Bobby even mentioned that he wanted to have us all celebrated. The rehearsal that followed was incredible, fun, tweakable, rambunctious and I finally started to hear the application of everyones voice. It was the counter tenor, a beat boxer, a jazz singer/performer and myself that would take the first set of solos to vocally improvise and embody the best person who Built that Tower. One upmanship was a lovely artistic weapon and it was like we used each others vocal capabilities to create an ongoing improvised scenario of Anything-You-can-do-I-Can-Do-Better. THe jazz singer scatted about how she made the tower, the Counter tenor me-me-meeed about his tower; the beat boxer scratched and spat about him building it, and I funked my way up and down the scale I about how powerfully I made the tower. For me, it was the first time I heard myself just go vocally off like that in front of a room and just allow myself to sing whatever came to mind in regards to a subject in the style that I considered my own. From all aspects and vocal types in that scenario - it was Powerful. Being able to see how we  really showcased each of their voices as we were working the structure of this Opera. Just hearing and watching people initiate their moment made me so proud of all the vocalists.

Being comfortable with myself enough to back away from the focus instead of always having to be near it gave me a chance to see many of the vocalists in moments of alertness, solitude, vulnerability and it gave me insight to how Bobby liked to approach things from a warm, personable yet professional standpoint. So many stories and jokes he would tell about his experiences in the music industry, and sometimes, just sitting and listening to him talk about how he chooses his projects was insight to himself; and even just how he felt us thinking in one excercise quickly propelled him to tell us how it related to his early days of constant quick thinking for financial stability. Knowing almost immediately that when he walked into the workshop everyday, he would look around, take it in and immediately tie up his dreds at the beginning of the day - of course they would be around his face by the end of it. Sensing a need to focus us by using a different voice in a manner that got our attention and got the job done. It worked - I thought, counted and spoke in Five because he urged me to relax while sounding like  the god father or a decrepit headmaster - I can't recall. He told me about the meaning of the word BowShiz; as it was brought up in rehearsal in a tacky overdone reference to music. He later explained to me that it meant the BS about showbiz; his anectdote of an acquaintance who toured with a pop icon for 6 months playing set and could not play anything else aside from the music - no room for improv, growth - nothing. THat, he stressed, was BowShiz. He may as well have called me Grasshopper as I toddled back to stage with a morsel of professional insight for my Soul.  In regards to my other vocalists - it was as if  we just let each other know who we were immediately, not with words or songs, but  with actions and how we sang with each other, even though it was professional, there still was enough  personal interaction that  established a really safe space for us to still have fun, wing out - yet still be ourselves. It was easy for me to see who really wanted to work at being perfect, who was okay with being  themselves, who was comfortable with their insecurities - who was not afraid to make mistakes, who enjoyed laughing, who wanted complete control , who was there to build and network and sing their heart out, who kept quiet and then span out into vocal abandon....
As part of  our week long stay there - we were allowed to watch a concert with one of my  favourite opera singers: Jesse Norman. A lot of us joke around about being Diva - to date - she is one of the most contemporary Divas in Opera that I know. Really quite a technician and performer as an opera singer, she truly is in control of her being as a vocalist , and such a majestic presence on stage - I was in complete awe, and when she sang to the back of the house, she sang to the back of the house in a magnificent Royal Blue Dress, with a Damn Train. Work. She sang in a variety of  styles, and I loved the fact that she sang a Toni Morrison song about Public Love. The subject of the sing obviously was a man who yearned for another mans touch, in Public. I think it hit a few members of the audience with how she just put her spin on the song. Regardless of the subject, each of her songs had such a unique way of  capturing the essence of a song and getting the subject across. She is from Augusta, GA, and as a Black Woman Opera Singer, she has really paved the way for more opera singers of color, and has created a way for young artists in all mediums to pursue the arts, it was mentioned that she did create a school for the arts in her state, and as a vocalist - she is internationally reclaimed and keeps raising the bar. She did three or four encore performances and  I really appreciated her pianist - he really knew how to showcase her voice, and I reminisced about days spent in College accompanying various musicians.

In terms of our performance as long as I live, I shall always remember the day of the  workshop performance/presentation as being so non-chalant, surreal, hectic and nerve wracking at the same time. What tickled me at points was the various episodes that happened during the day - and as funny, tense, incredulous as the incidents could have been - the day had a great goal: Carnegie Hall, Young Artists Concert, Tower of Babel, Bobby McFerrin.

Not a bad ending...

What performance day would not be complete without  artistic calamity? It was cool until after we got out before our call. We had two hours. I straightened out my tickets at will Call. Took a picture of myself  by our publicity Poster which now had a red SOLD OUT sign, and then... with my roommate, proceeded on a harrying caper to get ourselves shoes, and me flowers for my hair. All before out professional vocal debut at Carnegie Hall. We flagged a taxi: got a ride to Macy's, (traffic was awful) - walked through macy's to get to the other side - found a flower store, got two Gerberra Daisies (courtesy of my roomate - she had cash). Walked two blocks to this CUTE little shoe store - spent literally 20 minutes getting picking out shoes. Great - we are on a roll, got shoes and flowers - all we need is a taxi. That took about 15 minutes - oh lawd...thanks the heavens for the magical roommate. She flagged down one, just as I was about to reconsider riding in one of those bikable hackney things. Got back to the hotel. Waited on the elevator, Flew into the room, met my roommates husband, and jumped into the shower - jumped out - threw on my turquoise and silver dress I picked out for the occasion, poked in hoops for my ears, picked a comb through my hair, put on the shoes I bought, draped the opera wrap I bought for the occasion around my neck, and all three of us flew out the door, waited for the elevator, then rushed out the lobby and ran across the street to the Backstage door to Carnegie Hall.

Phew...

Of course there is more. After meeting up with my brother, to say few words, I ran back to my room - and hugged one of my vocalists I saw on the way, Calamity Struck - Impending Doom and what I Dramatically Deemed,  Diva Distastrousness happened: The Snap To My Dress Broke in Mid-Embrace. Truly it was no big deal - I saw the big picture - a little torn, all it needed was a safety pin. It was just the timing that was off. As people heard of the Costume Calamity, I ascertained that it was no big deal - it was just a snapped strap - one of the performers whisked me upstairs mid-laughter/ dramatic tirade and found me a pin. Situation solved. Crisis Averted  - Or So I Thought. All I know is that just time of getting pinned - I came downstairs, swished over to the table to get my Microphone, number 7, gave my section and Bobby a hug, - said a prayer of thanks and protection,  found my center right before we got on stage, gave myself to the Muse and we all walked out calmly, professionally yet excitedly into Carnegie Hall's Zankel Hall.

It felt like a Dream...

We walked out in our concert order and sat on our stools. Our Director Said a few words about this workshop, Bobby walked out to ours and the audiences delight and as the lights went down, and the house became black - he proceed to vocally create and paint a landscape, that invoked images in my head of a biblical city, sand, a village, a community, everyday life, water wells, trees, birds, the calm before the storm, golden sand, stone, bricks. To be honest, looking at that opening of the piece, how he created and conveyed that exposition, and gave it such texture gave me a sharp, bright and blinding glimpse of how innovative and genius-minded he is. As the piece continued to unwind I won't ever forget the vocal answer my Celtic Styled friend gave Bobby as he worked unraveled the story. She opened her mouth and I knew she could sing in a sunrise - but this woman seriously opened her mouth, and at that moment in Time, she practically brought in the dawn, I thought my goose bumps were going to pop off my skin, the two of them were vocally combined so securely. As I recall the concert, I was so wound through with adrenaline, I think I actually blacked out at points, but the feeling of me feeling like I was seeing everyone for the first time, and literally singing to peoples hearts as I saw them on stage - it was if we all just kinda saw each other but with love and arts and true creativity. It sounds so cliche - but its so true; imagine looking into someone's eyes and singing to them in your own way, Hello.... I even hugged someone as I sang to them. *sigh* Maybe the world could be a better place if there more moments like that off stage. (Ugh! I sound like a Damn Care Bear...) So many thoughts were flashing through my mind - it's like the opposite of tunnel vision, I heard everyones true voice and Bobby is the quintessential performer; he completely brought the audience in with guided improvisation, had us play around with and visually helped us guide the story along using our structure that seemed such a part of us, so vocal improvisation was more innate to us, all I know is that I was so happy to see everyone celebrating everything that it made for such an amazing performance.  The amazing thing is that I don't think anyone knew what was going to come out of anyone's mouth when it was the time, but we knew what had to be created so that gave us a lot of artistic leeway.  All I know is that when it came time for the first set of of solos saying how great the Tower was and how we each built it - One of two things happened; the first Diva opened her musical maw and proceeded to flay the audience with her muse, she ran laps around us as we watched her just destroy everyone in the audience including the back row. Second: the dress strap that i had pinned (securely?) came undone as we were singing how we could build the tower - right before the first Diva went up. Frantically, I caught one vocalists eye who I related to as a funk influence and hysterically/surreptitiously/dramatically/artistically/professionally told her of my dilemma and with microphone in hand, she discreetly pinned me, yours truly; Diva number 4, while everyone watched Diva number one Work. Diva number 2 sashayed his way counter tenor style in on her with an Operatic Quickness singing about some Me-Me-Me, and trilling on how he built it. Then Scratched in Diva number 3 with his beat boxing and his rendition of the Opera Singer while taking off and putting on his own record, and literally could have run his own club with his own beats, for a second - it was like an underground mc battle. Then his record got bumped off by Diva number 4, Yours Truly and with a statement and a breath, I  told everyone that I built that tower - the tower part itself was about 12 beats long, and I had no idea what came out of my mouth, but I liked it, and so did the audience and it worked. It wasn't until I played it back later that I heard the whole segment for the first time - that I heard all of us for the first time, I made the whole damn thing up, like we all were supposed to, but I had never heard myself or my others sound like that. I'm good at coming up with words off the cuff in song. I just remember that the story came into place and more of us emerged with upraised voices that popped out and showcased themselves; we were taken to church, the opera, to the jazz and funk clubs with those showcased voices and the audience went there as well. Truth be told - Bobby did the perfect job at times popping up and out and letting vocalists emerge, he is quite the seasoned and crafted, albeit cured ham - he had some of our ladies swooning as he choraled them with renditions of My Way, Chances Are, Blue Suede shoes - as he portrayed the fakery/bowshiz and idolatry of the tower we had created. After the tower fell (the last straw being My Way), the idea of different Languages was framed so well, as all of the people who sang and spoke fluently in different languages let go and melodically improvised so well in their native tongues while  engaging the audience, there was even an improvised baby created and handed around. For me - a turning point, and a thematic Babelonian (esque) moment was watching the Middle Eastern contingent weave an amazing melodic spell over the audience with their tones and overtones. It started with one woman who invited the audience to drone, and then ran up and down every non-western scale while all of us just clung to the edge of our seats, another woman came up and wove another scale while blending with the first and I thought my heart would stop or leave my body, just warm, dark tones sliding over everyone in the venue as they left her mouth. The third woman pretty much could have invoked any deity with her low tones that came from her belly and beyond. I know I froze and looked around in wonder and listened to the music that was literally swirling in front of me and I just had to trust it - when the throat singing came in, I almost cried it was so rich and deep. Again, we all joined in an looked and sang - just when I thought I couldn't sing to someone beyond a certain level - it went deeper and we connected through tone. We unified as a chorus, and Bobby had us and the audience interact - and to symbolize us all going out into the world - Bobby gave each of us a part and we brought ours to the audience. Amazing to see the different levels of comfort and participation as we brought tones to the crowd. So many different reactions, embarrasement, sheepishness, willingness, joy, wonder... All I could think of was how happy the crowd was, and how hard we all had worked to get to this point... We all took bows and just hugged each other once we got off stage, and thats when it hit us all how well it went, and what just happened at Carnegie Hall, and when my other dress strap decided to break, talk about instant HalterTop. For me, the past hour and some change sounded like OluShola Cole making her professional Vocal Debut with 20 vocalists and Bobby McFerrin.Hugs and tears...all around. I was so proud of everyone, and I gave myself props for getting there.

I saw friends and family afterwards, and a group of us spent time going to a few clubs. One of the clubs, we saw a funk-klezmer band in all their Jewish Curly Haired GLory and then walked to a Bulgarian Club and cut the line, because one of the tibetan throat singers knew the chef who happened to be standing outside and saw him with us. What an evening/morning. I got back to my hotel and woke up, packed - had lunch and conversation with my roommate and her husband and then took a cab to Grand Central, whose driver; after a brief conversation about me being interested in indian classical music told me he loved me. Maybe I was still on a high - who knows but I took the train home smiling and thinking. What I didn't expect is how much I would miss everyone at that workshop. I'm still confronting it, I think that's why it has taken me so long to chronicle it and record it. Part of me can't believe it happened, part of me knows I deserved it, all of me knows that I got a chance to work with some gifted and talented people in the music industry and I have to accept that the universe put us all together because we wanted something like this for ourselves so badly. All I know is that my senses are heightened, I'm still reeling and Babel is Everywhere....

Wow....

All I have to say is that the glitz and gaudy glamour of  Naples, FL has nothing on the earthly, artistic insight and innovation of the 19 other people i am singing with along with Bobby mcFerrin. I can't even explain what is going on...

I am speechless

Contempporary classical, middle eastern, a tonal singing, beatboxing, throat singing, funk, fusion, french chanson, etc....

It's insane. People are in shock, happy, exhausted, emotional, releasing, and its just the first day. I got in late the night before, it's my week off, so the time I would spend sleeping, I'm working another hemisphere of my brain. It hurts wonderfully.

I came in to my room and met my roomate, an incredible jazz singer. Went downstairs in the lobby to meet everyone to head over and just looked around at the vast array of folk - beautiful diverse people (no asians though...hmmm?), met up and spoke and introduced and met people. Wow... names, faces, people and places.

I'm keeping it brief but lets just say that we all walked over and met up at rehearsal spaces and waited in the lounge, now because I had already met Bobby, i was calm - but I forgot that people hadn't met him, so when he came out - I almost giggled at the sacred hush that descended on us, but I held it together.

Overall - we sang our hearts out. We had to sing our name, and he opened the floor by asking us what is improvisation... simply put, he said it's Motion. Thats when we went around and each sang our name in our styles, I was floored... I just wasn't prepared for the mind bending creativity that just erupted in our circle. but then again, maybe I was...? We then had to improvise with Bobby in our individual styles, and again, that just grounded me and opened me up so much. It was something I was ready for, but still amazed. I got to sing with someone I admire.

We did play therapy - and finally found ways to put together words and ideas about ourselves into action, the goal being that it would help us relate to each other and work towards the objective at hand, which was - by the end of the week to produce a vocal work based on the Tower of Babel and the creation of Language. All this would be propelled by vocal improvisation within our own styles.

As I write, I'm using my roomates computer because she bought internet, and I haven't yet - but we are getting ready to do our respective routines. We have been advised to sing for ten minutes each morning no matter where it went or what is sounded like. Yesterday, I jammed out with a jazz singer going to school in miami, and born in wisconsin. I watched people stretch their minds to what they thought was their capacity and challenge themselves....

I can't wait to see what happens today.

Compared to the White Privelege of naples, FL where even the Poor are Rich - This is Way better....

Casensitiveboi

Waking in Worcester, MA is just an entirely different feeling together. Downtown is low economy, practical, full of local cheap stores with great finds. The trip up from Danville, KY could have been grueling, but it wasn't - thanks to a bus driver who is a quick working driver. Firebrand...Asphalt Hermes... We arrived in Worcester, MA at 3pm we were supposed to get there at 5pm. I love the fact that we are going to work in a place that is realistic. It's not a glass palace in the middle of nowhere, and I can just observe the sights and the sounds of everyday life; buses, corner stores, pan handlers, halfway homes, city parks, beauty supply shops, etc, while being in a working environment. It reminds me of being in downtown Boston, the first year that we were learning the show; getting off the train in Jamaica Plains to go home from work and listening to the Sounds of Color. Music blaring, colorful dialects, small restaurants open until 3 am. I got a little homesick for Boston, but for now, Worcester, MA will do.
I've had something really amazing happen over the past month - the application that I poured myself into for a weeklong workshop led by Bobby McFerrin at Carnegie Hall resulted in me finding out about my acceptance into it when we got into  Denver, CO. Just applying for this workshop alone literally made me confront so many things while validating everything that I had done up till this point in my career, at points I just sat and shook, rocked back and forth, and just cleaned out the crevices of my experience, mind and memory and just made sure that everything I thought was crafted into the answers that the questions asked of me. THe last twenty four hours of tightening up that application are burned into my memory - somehow, by the grace of the goddess, I happened to be in Bloomington, IN when i finished it and mailed it out, and I happened to have a friend who lived there so I stayed at her place finishing up the last details, including rewriting my biography in the third person. By the time I printed up a headshot, got the application together, put together a demo,  got  package for the application materials, mailed it off to the post office, almost didn't because  I was so jittery I felt drunk. Of course waiting in line at the post office was just as nerve wracking, and as I left after mailing the application, not before contemplating for a split second about just forgetting the whole thing, I literally said to myself , "what have I done?". It was literally out of my hands, and there was nothing I could do at all except for wait - it was awful.
Lets just say with the whole waiting period, I had many questions and the ironic part of it all was that the dates that the workshop was scheduled, Stomp was going to be in my homestate - hmmm. Bobby McFerrin or performing with STOMP in my homestate - I choose Bobby. Hands Down. It's not really a sacrifice - it's pretty much a step up to a new level so it's not that much of a decision. Darn, I can't perform a broadway show in my hometown because I'm doing a workshop with the 8th wonder of the world.
All I know is that the day that I found out that I got into the workshop, which was a Monday - that weekend just tied together so much for me that it will stick with me to the day that I die. Simply put - Saturday night, I hung out with  my  cast and some friends I had made at the wellness spa in town. That week, I got great massages, a foot detox, and a really amazing biofeedback scan, in which all my compounds and points were simultaneously checked and analyzed. Saturday night - Bobby McFerrin and Voicestra, his a cappella group were performing in Denver, CO. Saturday night,  I had  the show off so a group of us went. Earlier during the day, I had all the cast and crew sign a trash can lid, so that McFerrin and Voicestra could get it before their show. I brought it over to their venue and had plans to give it to someone to make sure that they got it, and to my astonishment - their sound man off handedly told me I could give it to him myself.

What???!?!?!?!?!?!?

I've told this story so many times, but I wont ever forget that initial feeling of  slowly realizing in a split second that I'm meeting someone who has influenced my artistic and creative choices;  pretty much me handing a trash can lid from STOMP to the 8th wonder of the world: Bobby McFerrin. It's like two worlds colliding. Almost like the God touching Adam in that Sistine Chapel Painting. I just remember a whooshing noise in my ears as the sound guy yelled "Bobby!, Bobby!" and he pointed to him and literally shoved me into his direction. In front of me was a brown slender man with his back to me, and I just remember seeing dreds, beautiful dreds, salt and pepper dreds, and when he turned around, I calmly introduced myself as Shola and that i was a member of Stomp that was performing at the venue next door, this was a lid for him and Voicestra and that I was a great fan of his work, and that I was going to be doing the workshop at Carnegie Hall. What I really wanted to say was Holy SHit - you have been my idol since I heard you - you are a damn monster in the music industry, you have played with everyone... but I happily kept to the latter. I won't ever forget his reaction of just turning around and taking in me and my lid that I was offering. His first reaction was to smile and in his eyes I saw questions, that I immediately answered with my introduction. His recognizable face took in the lid I handed him, and he was so studious as he took the lid, and simply stated, " It's a lid, how nice...." He openly wondered how he was going to get it home while staring at this lid. I suggested a way to pack it with cardboard, but he decidedly  stated that he would have someone mail it to him. I  was inwardly reeling at this encounter, but I played cool and chill, and I almost started to giggle when in direct contrast, members of Voicestra came over like a gaggle of geese and just excitedly quacking questions about Stomp, while McFerrin just looked at the lid and at the rest of them and me. It was here and then that in some ways the connection between metal and vocals deepened when from the gaggle quacked a deep incredulous voice that asked disbelievingly if I was in Stomp. I replied yes, and this man who belonged to the voice mentioned that he was did Stomp. I asked who he was, and he told me his name  Everett Bradley.I just about fell over. Not only did he teach the people who trained me for the show, but turns out this man is a Grammy Nominated bass player who was the first US director of Stomp, and has toured and played with everyone. And here we both were, just gawking over this meeting. I pulled myself away, realizing that there was a concert at hand,  I wished everyone good luck, and walked to the front of the house picked up the tickets, met my friends and walked to our seats. I sat back and waited for the concert to begin, but not before I texted my castmate who was on his way over, about me seeing the former stomper.

Here's where it gets crazy:

Bobby McFerrin comes out with Voicestra, the place goes nuts. He just lays down the beat with this body and his voice and proceeds to destroy and then elevate any known sense of presumption, creativity - not to mention reality. I wanted to cry, laugh, sleep, run laps. So I just sat back and listened, and let every emotion rise, fall and watch over me. Bobby and Voicestra just floored me. I have heard recordings, seen tv specials - but I was not prepared for the level of creation and emotional release that his music brought out in me and everyone....Why? Bobby and Voicestra decided after their intense songs, in which he would sing with a member and show off both of their blended and individual styles and capabilities - that they would lighten things up, and take a break and have a seat, but still engage the audience...

Crazier:

As McFerrin and Voicestra sit down, McFerrin starts talking, and my ears prick up - not just because he is talking, but because he is mentioning that there was a girl from Stomp who came backstage who gave them a lid as they were performing at the venue next door. And he wanted to know if I was there.....

?!?!?!?!?!?

Come again? Denial is not just a river in Egypt - my ears ran strangely, and I decided to go selectively deaf. Again he mentioned the scenario, and this time he and the former Stomper put their hands to their heads and actively looked around for me. Before I could even think what was up I popped up,waved my hands wildly and yelled:

"I'm right here!"

As long as I live, those words will take on a new meaning - they will always remind me of Bobby McFerrin's  response that followed and plunged me into a space of universal manifestation:

"Well... Get Down here!"

"............@#%&^%!"

In all my craziest experiences on the Road - I would have never guessed that the week I found out that I got accepted to a workshop with Bobby McFerrin, that I would be on stage with him and Voicestra that weekend. In that moment, I grabbed my castmate, and staggered excitedly downstairs. We weren't prepared for the roaring response of the audience once we walked onto stage, and I personally wasn't ready for the feeling of creative energy that encompassed us once walked on stage. Truth be told, with the music and energy that Bobby and Voicestra had created and set, basically making sacred artistic space - it felt like we walked into a vortex once we got into that stage. Such beautiful diverse members made up Voicestra, and all their voices blended could have lifted me up, literally. The look on the formers stompers face as he saw my castmate was worth it all, he had no idea he was with me. Once we were on stage, It took a second to adjust, meaning: Bobby said " Okay - Stomp", I looked at my castmate - we both looked at each other, we did basic hand percussion, over Bobby and Voicestra singing - at one point, my castmate and I played each other. I looked around and saw every face in Voicestra and looked at my castmate. I caught a glimpse of Bobby's and I swear it was like there was something energetically moving in his face, and I could see his true and finite purpose as a performer, and being a  vocal vessel; at points sung through by higher forces. Later on he mentioned in a Q&A that he was singing in Paris, France and a woman came backstage and asked him how he was singing in a particular african dialect so perfectly - she had been studying it for years, apparently he had no idea that he was singing with those tones and inflections. As far as us being on stage, it was just an amazing creative moment in time, and as soon as it started it was over. Just the act of crossing from audience to performance space in such talented space just really opened up my mind and my awareness of if you want something it can happen in ways that you never expected. Truly a lesson in Universal desire and manifestation, me and my castmate were happy students of it.  I'm still reeling from that experience, and it's really wonderful because after the show - we stopped by our venue, and Everett got to see the show and talk to many of us. I also think he directed the show Swing! because he walked up to the poster and sighed, mentioning something about "his baby".
It was an eye opener speaking to many of the Voicestra members, what shocked me was how many of them knew Stompers, or knew people that I knew because of Stomp. It's such a small world, our lighting guy met Bobby's sound guy years ago in San Francisco. Meeting so many people who literally were the best in the industry, and often singing, performing, and producing behind known performers in the industry, or being artistic and creative directors for commercials and product campaigns, was just a jolt of reality, and honestly not that intimidating at all. On another note - the former stomper ended up meeting up again with my tour manager, it was so wonderful for them to see each other after years and years of not working together.

My group of friends and I walked away from that night just stunned and euphoric, I personally didn't go to sleep for  hours. The next day, I called my brother and told him what happened, and he just about fell over. My friends and castmates went to brunch, and just laughed and hung out and relived the night. I was so glad I did not have the early show that day.  I look back on those sequence of events, and I'm just reminded that we are all tiny cogs in a big wheel and if we think really hard, and really positively all the tiny cogs connect in a way that make us all work together. This is my way of confronting what occurred, I didn't write for two months because I couldn't believe what happened, and I'm just coming to terms with it. Plus - I was mad at my blogspace, but I'm over it, I recording and recollecting everything bit by bit and I like this process.

This coming Sunday, I fly into JFK from Naples, FL. April 28th - May 1st. Me and 19 other talented participants do and intense 5 day workshop with Bobby McFerrin and some members of Voicestra. During this time we will work towards presenting a new work based on the Tower of Babel, while using facets and foundations of vocal improvisation and language. These are some talented blessed folk and I'm extremely humbled and excited to be working with them. May 2nd, using all those tools gleaned in the workshop, I shall be part of a group of 20 making my professional vocal Debut at Carnegie Hall with Bobby McFerrin.

How the in the World did I get There....?!?!?!?!?!?

I know. It's being six years old and being taken to my first piano lesson, and performing for school. It's relying on 20 years of piano, and 10 + years of trombone, and years of chorus. Eons of screaming, yelling and fighting at home and turning to music for comfort. Persistence through Frustrations of not always being in the chorus in school plays, and getting no lines. It's called being that strange black girl from England who spoke funny, who was so nerdy but knew how to play piano. Flash to Junior high school where all I could hold onto amidst being different, being bullied, unsupported and not cool, is chorus, band and piano. It's 8th grade where I played and sang my first song for the talent show: Killing me Softly, Roberta Flack. It's struggling socially, racially and culturally to fit into high school, amidst attending a white church, trying to hang with white folk because I'm from England and I'm deemed not Black Enough. Starting trombone at 15 because there were no more saxophones. Finding  fun and friends in the multicultural club and chess club because we are diverse and there is the least amount of judgement. Call it my creative ledge that I cling to when the only thing that brings me through unstable family habits is Music. 88 keys are the cliff I hang from when I felt alone, misunderstood, isolated, the Golden Slide is what I glide down when school was rough because because I believed I was no good. It's getting to College and living through a haze of dischordant music in a system that doesn't understand help and healing until it's almost too late, and they are designed to cut you so a select few can succeed, but not without brainwashing you with amazing opportunites of Marching band, Jazz band, Pep bands, going to the National Championships; performing and working with World Class Musicians who still don't get the cultural difference even though Music is the international language. Thank goodness for Jorgensen Auditorium - cut to me being a student stagehand, loading in Stomp. Thank god for Women's Studies; in every aspect - it opened up everything. Scroll forward to Senior Year. It's a phone call from a friend asking me to sing in an a cappella group, later named RubyFruit, that her friend wants to start because at that time, there was only one other group on campus. It's called my sphere opening up to include performing without an instrument in front of me - it's combining arts and issues I care about, and it's Women and Music. It becomes my everythang. It's me graduating and performing a capella after college. It's Community theatre with lines. It's a partner who is supportive and my own family unit that holds me up through Racism at work and low self esteem. It's singing and performing with Harmonious Soul, and learning about group booking/management. It's struggling to find a sense of racial and cultural belonging amidst myself and others. Scroll forward to me at work finding out about Stomp auditions while being online - screech forward to me driving up to Boston for auditions - crash forward to me listening to my acceptance message into the company on the answering machine and my partners tears as she mourned the loss of control that was leaving her. Smash forward 7 years later on the Road, single, creative, accepting road family, happier about finding myself and facets of me that I lost. Discovering song and writing, performing and OluShola Andrea Cole. Roll through friends, family, lovers, acquaintances and anecdotes that sustain me for a lifetime. Pan out to me confronting myself as I place myself on paper for this workshop; trippin, stompin', cryin' and reliving all I have been through, and placing it all at Carnegie Hall. That's how I got here

Oh, and for damn sure did I practice. 

Casensitiveboi 

 
Here are some links (copy and paste, no spaces, into the browser window)

 http://www.carnegiehall.org/article/box_office/events/evt_11528_ma.         html?selecteddate=05022008

http://www.carnegiehall.org/article/box_office/events/evt_11528.
html?selecteddate=05022008 

http://www.carnegiehall.org/article/press/press_release/109525.html