tag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:/blogs/all-those-who-wanderAll Those Who Wander2022-06-22T13:09:52-06:00Karen Marrollifalsetag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/69940652022-06-22T13:09:52-06:002023-10-16T08:48:44-06:00"Though the Earthquakes Rage": Composing in a Time of Pandemic<p>I often get questions about what inspired a specific work, or how I get inspiration for pieces in general. Do I start with a text and set it to music, or do I start with a musical idea and write text that fits the music? The answer, in my case, is that all of those things are fluid. Sometimes I set out to set a specific pre-existing text, like a proper composer. Many times, however, I am not proper- a surprise to no one. I often end up writing my own texts, which can come before the music, after the music, or (most often) can bounce back and forth between the two. I can think of a fragment of text that inspires music, or I can hear a musical snippet or accidentally find a chord progression on the piano that suggests a text or a title. I’m not methodical or organized at all and I never know when the next piece will strike. But when it does start to come, it happens very quickly, usually spurred on by my curiosity of what will happen next. Inspiration comes from everything around me, whether it be a sermon theme that needs a new anthem, a commission on a specific theme or text, or current events and circumstances that inspire a musical response. One of those events that inspired, in fact required, as whole new way of composing was the coronavirus pandemic that began in 2020. </p>
<p>COVID has very much affected how many of us approached music making and composition over the past few years, and several of my pieces that are out now were directly spurred by the limitations put on all of us by the pandemic. At the very start of the crisis, we were constrained to only have a few people in the sanctuary, with no congregation, to do our livestreamed services. That left me at the piano, singing and playing all the hymns and service music. That scenario had me churning out a number of solo pieces that even I could sing and play simultaneously. A number were arrangements of hymns and spirituals, while some were brand new pieces appropriate to the day. “Be Still,” “God is Near,” “There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy,” and “We Walk by Faith” were all part of that repertoire, and three of those pieces are now available as 2 and/or 3-part choral arrangements. The feeling was that, as choirs started to find their way back after the initial phase of COVID, they would need simpler pieces for reentry and probably smaller voicings, so “Be Still,” “We Walk by Faith,” and “There’s a Wideness” were written to be flexible enough to be performed by choirs of varying size. The most interesting genesis was “Be Still,” which started as a piano prelude extremely early in our livestreaming process. By the next week it had words, and I did it as a solo anthem. The words themselves were inspired by the unsettled events that all of us were facing; indeed, the improvised rhythm that I used for the original piano version was based on the mantra “Be still, and know that I am God.” Then, months later, I turned the piece into a choral setting that was premiered as a virtual choir offering to close Palm Sunday (as the turn into Holy Week) of 2021. </p>
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<p>The impact of needing vocally simpler works to do with virtual choirs was also felt in a brand new release, “My Heart Shall Sing,” which was a piece commissioned by Austen Wilson for his church choir in Jacksonville, FL. He contacted me about it just before the pandemic hit and had a clear idea for a Lessons and Carols based on the Magnificat, to be broken thematically into three different sections and for me to choose a section on which to base my text. He was also interested in the idea of weaving a congregational hymn throughout. Then the pandemic hit, and rather than a live performance we were looking at something that would likely be offered virtually in Advent of 2020, so we decided that a malleable 2-part setting would work best for the voicing. I chose the middle section of the Magnificat, with its upending of known structures in favor of the poor and lowly and voiceless, and knew that Rory Cooney’s “Canticle of the Turning” would make a great hymn pairing. It didn’t hurt that Cooney’s paraphrase of the Magnificat is set to an adaptation of the Irish tune “Star of the County Down.” SO, if I wanted to make it REALLY Celtic, I could pair that tune with a complementary reel (I chose “Julia Delaney.”) To top it all off there is a newly composed tune that I wrote to set a new text, which is basically a series of juxtapositions (“the loud shall fall silent, the silent shall speak, the weak be made mighty, the mighty made weak”) that reminds us to follow the path of peace, even when the world is promoting war and loudness and power. The piece was ultimately done much later than anticipated, live in church, after choirs had started to regather. But the result is an anthem that can be done by a 2-part choir or an SATB choir by using some optional tenor and bass parts and by dividing the sections up in various ways. </p>
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<p>The sheer situation affected the tone of the texts that I was writing. “Hope Waits” was written in response to a call for scores from a group called Voices of Hope. It was July of 2020, and I thought we all could sure use some hope amidst the ensuing pandemic and all of the societal upheaval around us. So I wrote this little text based on the idea that hope is a living, breathing entity that stands beside us and waits for us to choose it anew each day, and that even when circumstances cause us to feel buried and dead regeneration can be silently occurring (“Hope grows the bud now sleeping. Hope waits for you.”) </p>
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<p>And then sometimes the restraints of the pandemic caused us to really go off the rails. In the summer of 2020, I composed “Come Unto Me” as a way of offering a really, REALLY flexible piece that could be done by a soloist, a duet, a trio, or a choir of distanced singers using aleatoric techniques. It could be done unaccompanied, or with the accompaniment which is basically a glorified drone. Since we were trying to use distance as a safety measure, having a simple sustained accompaniment and a portion that could be sung in an aleatoric fashion meant that the singers didn’t have to be together rhythmically- and you wouldn’t really want them to be. The result is something that could be beneficial and effective in a number of scenarios, even post-COVID. I also made a video for it, as having videoed anthems was a real benefit at that time, but Facebook seemed to insist that a portion of the video was stolen, because bots. (Spoiler alert: it was not). Fortunately, YouTube doesn’t seem to have that issue with this video. </p>
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<p>Throughout history, circumstances have influenced the way that music had to be conceived and performed. In our little portion of the world, we’ve been privileged to not have to contend with such things in recent history, often to the point of rigidity in the choral world. The past few years have forced us to rethink the way composition and choirs can work, and I’ve been inspired by my colleagues and the inventive ways that they have pushed through under trying circumstances. And while I would have preferred that we not had to enter this crisis, with all of its upheaval and suffering and death, it had a direct influence on what I and many others have been creating. All of this has been part of the great procession of musical history, which continues on no matter what. Fear not. Be still. No matter what, the music always lives on. </p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>“Though the earthquakes rage, though the tempests roll, though the storms conspire to destroy, be still and know that I am God. The earth shall rise again in joy.”</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/fcedb631af40820b0b7be2d32a78f791139673e4/original/img-2935.jpg/!!/meta:eyJzcmNCdWNrZXQiOiJiemdsZmlsZXMifQ==/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></em></p>Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/69873872022-06-05T20:51:51-06:002022-06-06T11:20:26-06:00The Road Forward<p style="text-align: justify;"><span class="font_regular">So much has happened in the last-- five years?-- since I've posted to this blog. There have been so many times that I've thought I should get back to it. There was the move back from Alabama to New Mexico, this time to the city of Albuquerque (side note: you haven't lived until you've just been chillin' outside at Downtown Java Joe's drinking your coffee, when you suddenly see the Bounder RV pull up and you're a stop on the <em>Breaking Bad</em> Tour). There was the descent into a global pandemic and the chilling effects it had on the choral world. There were the many ways that we innovated to meet the challenges posed by a world that now knew COVID, both as conductors and composers, and the new works that were born out of that time. So much to write about, so much to process- and that third one will likely become a nice blog post in the near future. But at this moment I want to take some time to focus on just that: the future.</span></p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;"><span class="font_regular">Amidst all of the upheaval that I, and all of us, have experienced over the past few years, something wonderful has been taking root. More and more people have been getting to know the music that I have been writing- and, through the wonders of Zoom, I have been getting to know you. I've had many gratifying experiences of getting to talk with choirs around the country, each of them performing various works of mine. Sometimes I've gotten to hear snippets (as much as the not-so-wonderful-wonders of Zoom will allow) of what you all are working on. I've gotten thoughtful questions and been able to engage with singers in various cities and towns, and that has been such a blessing in the midst of some really trying times for all of us. And I've been getting emails letting me know how certain pieces have helped you in a time of need.</span></p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;"><span class="font_regular">So I want to take a moment to thank all of you. You've let me know that what I am creating is having a positive impact and that it is meaningful to you. Whenever I receive these comments, be they in email form or over a Zoom meeting, I'm always wondering if I could possibly be the composer to whom you're speaking. It is always humbling, stunning, and grounding in a time that has contained so much darkness. Music matters. Art matters. And these works that pour forth from all of us who create during and in response to these times of trial can help each of us- listeners and creators- to clarify our feelings, find inspiration, create our sense of purpose, and know we are all connected and not alone. </span></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><span class="font_regular">One wonderful in-person moment that I experienced this spring was getting to host the Concordia Choir at Central United Methodist Church (where I started as Director of Music Ministries in January of 2018) while on their 2022 tour. They asked me to conduct "Light of the World" as part of their concert at Central, performed in combination with the Santa Fe High School Choir, and it was incredibly gratifying to get to work with all of these committed and enthusiastic students- and then to later to get to speak with many of them one on one.</span></p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;"><span class="font_regular">So I hope the road forward is filled with more creating and connecting and using art to bring light into the darkness. Because so many of you have asked me to talk about the genesis of some of these pieces, I definitely see a number of new "songscape" blog posts in the future. Want to know something else- let me know! Let's all keep on connecting, and creating, and being warriors for light in this world.</span></p>
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<p> </p>Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/46128412017-03-01T20:30:35-07:002022-05-10T23:31:11-06:00Songscape: "To Dust"<div style="text-align: center;"><em>"I will grow from the ground <br>after you burn me down."<br><br>-Ingrid Michelson, "Fire"</em></div><br>Today is Ash Wednesday, the day that (as our minister claimed in this evening's sermon) at least one child has described as "the day all United Methodists begin their diets."<br><br>Ash Wednesday begins the journey of Lent, and is a time of putting aside all of those things that hold us back from the fullness of life. For many, that means a time of fasting from behaviors that separate us from God. For some, it is as simple as walking away from things that keep us from rising to our full potential. Whatever your particular connection to Ash Wednesday may or may not be, it is a time of cleansing, as congregational members are reminded that "you are but dust, and to dust you shall return."<br><br>This evening my choir did a stunning job of sharing Carl Schalk's classic, "Create in Me a Clean Heart, O God." I know, however, that some of my friends made my piece "To Dust" a part of their Ash Wednesday worship, and it is humbling and inspiring to think that I was present in some way with them during their time of worship. And it reminds me of services at the United Church of Santa Fe, during which we would write all of our failings and/or hindrances on a piece of paper and put them into a fire during Ash Wednesday services (because, being in New Mexico, we obviously had a Kiva style fireplace near the Sanctuary). It was a very real way of "burning" things that have been hurting you or no longer serve you, and this tradition was, in part, the inspiration for the text of "To Dust." Inter-church beaming via choral music: it's what's for Ash Wednesday.<br><br>I wrote "To Dust" in response to a very personal time of grieving and transformation while in Santa Fe. I had some very real things to put in the fire that year, and if someone looked at my situation not through the eyes of someone struggling through a survivor's journey to become and remain whole, it might have seemed a little silly. But it was far from silly. It was an extremely complex emotional situation, the doing-battle-with of which made me into a different person. At the time I was frightened of being a different, a <em>weaker</em>, person. But that wasn't ultimately the way it turned out. I became more primal, more vibrantly expressive, and more confident, ultimately pushing me down the creative, musical, and leadership path that I am on today.<br><br>So when I say "let my crying come to dust, let my grief be turned to ashes, let my heart be cleansed in flame," the call is both personal and universal. "Let my mourning turn to song." Many of us the creative field do this on a constant basis and understand that sentiment inherently. "Let my sorrow turn to sunrise." Not simply a plea to make everything okay, but that suffering be used to carve out a new day and a new path. "Let my broken spirit rest." Pleas of <em>Kyrie Eleison </em>(Greek for "Lord, Have Mercy") throughout the piece speak not to a God from whom we need to shield ourselves to avoid vengeance and wrath, but rather to One who offers balm for restoration. <em>Eleison</em> has the same root as the Greek word for oil, which was used to soothe wounds. <br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/563b097133cde11e2d2ee5794e725eafbbbdf2d7/medium/12719194-10156689909915099-1530468508315718802-o.jpg?1488425072" class="size_m justify_center border_" /><div style="text-align: center;"><em>the desert blooms</em></div><br>The text goes on to ask for blooming deserts and water through parched lands- not to simply let us endure the desert, but to use the unique properties of "desert" to bring forth the special blooms that only it can provide to the world. The piece concludes with a repeat of the opening idea, but acknowledges that we all need this healing. Not one person. OUR crying. OUR grief. Collective and individual. The need for cleansing and restoration is a universal human experience. "Everyone you meet," after all, "is fighting a hard battle." We can put our hardships, our sins, our faults, our failings, our pain, into the fire and move ahead in the world, still knowing that the experience of having bore them has made us a little more who we are.<br><br>"Let our hearts be cleansed with flame."<br><br>Out of the fire comes creation. Out of my fire came creation. I have never been the same.<br> <div style="text-align: center;"><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="9eJJdv8-DeA" data-video-thumb-url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/9eJJdv8-DeA/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9eJJdv8-DeA?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="400" width="640" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><em>"To Dust," performed by the Senior Choir at St. John Lutheran Church, Blue Bell, PA</em></div><br> Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/44623622016-11-11T11:08:37-07:002023-12-10T11:08:23-07:00"Rise Up:" A Call for CompassionCompassion.<br><br>This is the thing I see most missing from our national discourse as of late. Compassion... and empathy. Each of us is so sure that we are right that we fail to put ourselves in the shoes of another person. We listen to respond, and in doing so never actually interact with what is being said. We make assumptions about the other person based on our own personal experience without giving a thought to the fact that not everyone has lived the same life as we have. We belittle, we malign, and we dismiss. We listen defensively and talk over each other, perhaps terrified that someone else's life experience might make it inconvenient to cling to our world view. As someone who watches many internet arguments from the outside, I often wonder how anyone maintains any sort of healthy personal relationships or marriages. No counselor would ever suggest that a couple in conflict speak to each other the way that we do on Facebook, Twitter, or the Comments section. And I never see anyone getting anywhere with the sort of toxic communication that spews forth (imagine that!) when we do not have to look each other in the eye.<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/c7dcb62ff455a98d99b7077780fc738c597d5a1e/large/my-movie-2.jpg?1478887048" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br>In a traditional mediation or conflict resolution situation, there are ground rules, and these rules are set at the beginning of the discussion. Each side gets to fully explain themselves without interruption. Name calling is prohibited (since a person who is being treated without respect will most likely cease to listen). If the ground rules are broken, the mediation cannot continue as nothing can really be accomplished. In mediation and counseling situations, someone will often respond to someone's point of view by saying something like, "so what I hear you saying is..." and then filling in with what the listener thinks was said. This not only lets the other person know that they were heard, but also gives them the chance to clarify their statement if needed. Real healing can begin in mediation when one person can say to another, "I understand that when x happened/when I said x, you felt x way. I am sorry." Dropping defensive postures, acknowledging the feelings of others as real, and perhaps taking ownership of your part in a situation are the only way forward.<br><br>In this turbulent post-election environment, remember that everyone you speak to is a person and has a story. They have a reason for doing what they do and feeling what they feel. They have had hardships and challenges that you do not know. Nothing should be dismissed as silly, evil, or irrelevant. You may feel uncomfortable or challenged, but you must listen. We all must listen if we are to move past this spirit of meanness that has brought us to the place we are today. And no matter what side of the aisle we are on, we must pledge to follow a common plea for going forth in the world: to "render to no one evil for evil; strengthen the fainthearted; support the weak; help the afflicted; honor everyone." Nowhere in this response from the Book of Common Prayer does it say to do these things "unless you think the person is just being silly" or "unless you, standing outside someone else's situation, absolutely know how they could have done it better" or "unless it never happened to you so it could not possibly have happened to the other person." People's experiences are real. People's emotions are real. And, speaking as a survivor, trauma is real. How can we be serious about uniting if we do not seek to understand those who are different from us? <br><br>Perhaps we are afraid that, if we really listen and understand, we will run out of responses and things to say. Maybe we will- and that would be okay. Sometimes having someone really listen is healing enough. No response needed. And maybe each of us would change.<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/a32f53b113a617b5810286eaf27678ce0f27a8ad/original/screen-shot-2016-11-11-at-12-29-16-pm.png?1478889033" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><br>In a few weeks I will be releasing an EP entitled <em>Be the Change.</em> The songs were born out of my observations of toxic and often hypocritical communication, violence, inequity, and intolerance. They are a call to true self exploration and active love in a world that often seems resistant to doing either. They are a challenge to choose what is good when presented with both darkness and light, and to come together even when it seems difficult. Perhaps the greatest summation (and convicting question) comes in the first song, "Hitch Your Wagon," which unabashedly borrows from the show <em>Lost </em>and from Dr. Jack Shephard's iconic statement to the squabbling, diverse assortment of crash survivors on the beach of "the island":<br><br>"If we can't live together... we're gonna die alone."<br><br>So how do we learn to live together? The first step is listening with an open heart, which I personally have committed to do in "Rise Up," the song for which this video was shot. I hope that you will join me in doing the same. <br> <div style="text-align: center;"><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="SKsHIoh4D_4" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/SKsHIoh4D_4/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/SKsHIoh4D_4?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="400" width="640" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe></div>
<p> </p><br> Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/40279652016-02-05T20:23:03-07:002017-01-16T09:18:03-07:00Running a Revolution: Ignoring the NaysayersWhen I was a kid, I absolutely hated physical activity of any sort- ESPECIALLY running. Having to do any of those short sprints in gym class was some circle of hell, reserved for overweight kids who, incidentally, liked to sing and make up songs. (I can't imagine what twelve year old kid could have fit that description). And, after all, I had good reason- I was defective. As a young child, I was a freak of nature, bound for orthotics, with two ankles that one doctor suggested that my mother have "broken" and reset correctly so that they would heal to be something like a normal person's. My mother, being the slightly crotchety rebel that she is, never went back to said doctor.<br><br>When I got a little older, about high school aged, I did start to take interest in being able to run a little- a mile at most. It was at this time that another doctor took a look at me and noted that one side of my hips was a little higher than the other. I don't know that that is terribly uncommon, but it was impetus for him to declare that I would "never be able to run." It didn't mean much to me at the time, but as I have gotten older and embraced running as an enjoyable activity, I have thought about it quite a bit. Many of you know that running has been a means both of maintaining weight loss and developing emotional stamina for me. I started being able to run distances slightly over two miles and over during my time at LSU. In Santa Fe, in the time spanning the ages of 35-40, I worked my way up to a sometimes 6 mile course, over hills and at high altitude. I have faced the monster of running at 7,000 feet and ran in several 5Ks, both in Santa Fe and Arizona. And, while I am slow, I think I have defied the notion that I would "never" be able to engage in the activity.<br> <div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/25ec8487289af11f8b5f31078f9811edfa003bb4/original/21307-10152820416855099-652599129-n.jpg?0" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">Running in the 'Santa Fe Runaround 5k' in May 2013. Photo by Ursula Marrolli.</p></div><br><br>This past week I had the opportunity to speak to the Dorcas Circle of the United Methodist Women at Trussville First United Methodist Church, and the subject matter turned out to be a dose of "getting to know Karen" and how I got to where I am today. As I developed my "talk," there were two themes: one, that I planned on one thing and quite another happened. Two, that I have typically NOT been the first choice of organizations when it comes to Choral Conducting or Music Ministry. I had to learn to be my own first choice and to work a little more diligently than the next guy to pave my way. Indeed, there are many things about my musical career that some onlookers would have said I could "never" do. And yet, here I am. <br><br>Just like conducting, it turns out that, yes, running is a little harder for me. As I write this I am working my way back from injury number 231, running a mile, walking a lap, then running another mile, etc. until things feel "normal," and getting serious about strengthening my core and hips on days when I don't run. Some of the injury is due to lack of exercise from the chaos of moving. Some of it is due to whatever wackiness the doctors saw happening in the lower half of my body. Some of it is due to my typical state of "I have no idea what I pulled this time or when I did it." But even as I begrudgingly lower myself to the run-walk routine, I know that I have run a 10K distance and I can do that again with a little perseverance. <br><br>I think one of the draws I have to running is that it is a challenging activity that, like so many other things, I have been told I could "never do." So when I am in decent shape and can pound the pavement for three, four, five, or more miles, I am actually stomping on all those ideas of "can't" and people who have intimated that I am somehow "less than" and creating my own future and possibilities. This is an important notion for any of us that engage in ideas that people say can't be done. Songwriters, conductors, artists... the creative brains in all of us need the capacity to tune out those who say that we "can't" and move them aside in our journey toward actually doing it. And, yes, sometimes our progress may be slow. But when you get to the end of the course you will be able to see how far you've come. And, don't forget, the most important person that you're racing against... is yourself. <br> <div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/d1154a82a1b95086fc777cf2750b8735573e409e/original/11081285-10155406825685099-1677381558396820143-n.jpg?0" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">After the Inaugural Run3rd 5k in Mesa, AZ... in which I finished before Sean Astin. This is presumably only because he stopped to help a confused child, but we don't talk about that. Photo by Sean Astin (for realz).</p></div><br><br>What is it that people have told you that you "can't" do? And why are you letting that stop you? Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/39245532015-11-12T21:53:25-07:002015-11-12T22:14:17-07:00The DIY Musician: Music VideosI'll be the first to admit that I have a problem. It's a serious problem. I have a constant need to be creating things. If I'm not creating something, I'm thinking about creating something, and I'm usually in both of these processes simultaneously with various types of projects. So it's probably not a huge surprise that I became interested in creating music videos to go along with some of my recordings. Given my interest in photography and visual arts, I suppose it's a given that I might start to have "visions" for adding another dimension to these songs. <br><br>I know that videos are usually meant to be a promotional tool, but all of my art-making comes from an "expression-first" kind of a place. I'm not really sure what I'd be promoting, anyway. But there are a lot of wonderful DIY musicians out there who should definitely be using every possible avenue to lead people to their music, and they need to be a little bit creative about getting things done. The internet is a wonderful place for sharing all kinds of experiences... so here are my experiences with creating three self-produced videos for the music from <em>Twilight Songs</em>.<br><br><strong>1. <em>Sanctuary</em> </strong>-- filmed at Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, NM<br><br>Much like the way I hear music before it is written, I could "see" images that could be strung together to make videos for both this song and "Rain." My hope was that the landscape could be the star, and that I could make a few rare appearances as a curiosity, mostly from far away. I took my camera out to Ghost Ranch on a March afternoon, set it on a tripod, and wandered around doing various things. My inspiration for the approach was some of the videos or vignettes that Tori Amos did for her <em>Welcome to England </em>album. In those videos, there was no lip syncing or choreographed performance; rather, she just appeared in various scenes, be it walking through a garden or through the streets of the city. Instead of the typical music video, these short films had a sort of impressionism about them that I thought would be an appropriate accompaniment for these songs.<br><br>I ended up on the Matrimonial Mesa trail, which lacked any sort of need for real hiking and gave some great panoramic views right off the bat. The decision to take off my shoes and run around barefoot came almost immediately, since any shoes but hiking shoes really were not an option on that terrain. I love the sequence of running down the trail in slow motion- one of those random shots that I took just to see how it might turn out, but it ended up being the perfect accompaniment to the song intro and to the first strains of the cello. I filmed the intermediate views of all of the breathtaking scenery of Abiquiu. The result is a somewhat dreamy vignette that doesn't really tell a story, but just adds a visual dimension to the song.<br><br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="fwR_VUUmC24" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/fwR_VUUmC24/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/fwR_VUUmC24?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="400" width="640" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe><br><br><br><strong>2. <em>Rain</em></strong> -- filmed in the Ojito Wilderness, NM<br><br>For "Rain," I knew I needed a landscape that was as dusty and devoid of water as the lyrics indicate. I drove out to one of my favorite spots, the Ojito Wilderness, outside of Bernalillo, NM. In true Marrolli fashion, I was actually trying to do too much at once. I was trying to shoot an informational video at the same time as the shots for a video for "Rain," so I was getting a hodgepodge of material. Also, because spring in NM, it was super windy. Heavy cameras on tripods in the desert in spring can be a serious health and safety hazard. Needless to say, at one point the tripod blew over. I grabbed it to save my camera and proceeded to rip open a finger, which brought out the Irish-Italian in me. I got mad, threw everything in the car, and proceeded to bleed all the way into Albuquerque where I could find a brewery.<br><br>I began putting together a little bit of a video, which survives as the first 20 seconds or so, and thought it was really cool but figured I did not have enough shots from the session. I always thought I would re-attempt it at a later date. But, as you may know, life became crazy and suddenly I was getting ready to move to Alabama. I tried taking some additional footage, but realized that it was just not right for the song stylistically. More on that later. I realized that the first little bit I had done really was in the right spirit for the song and decided to put my creative thinking cap on. I spliced together various pieces from the hodgepodge of videos that I took on that spring day and came up with something that I think is really interesting, despite the fact that I am on screen much more than I originally would have liked. Some additional leftover shots from the day that I shot in Abiquiu, along with one still photo, rounded out the video. I like the result. It's rhythmic and, I think, creative, with some nifty editing responsible for me appearing and disappearing in various spots of the desert landscape.<br><br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="_JYOSIodGC0" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/_JYOSIodGC0/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_JYOSIodGC0?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="400" width="640" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe><br><br><br><strong>3. <em>I Know the Angels </em></strong>-- filmed in various and sundry places<br><br>So, that redo footage that I shot that absolutely did not work for the "Rain" video? It became the impetus to do one final video as I was leaving NM. This video was shot entirely on the iPhone 6, which I would highly recommend for indie musicians. I think the quality is really quite nice, and it also can be attached to a tripod. The shots are from Cerrillos, various places around Santa Fe, and on the road as I was driving out of the state. The song was originally one that was written with absolutely no intent in mind, but it came from a time where I was writing a good bit about endings and moving on. I know what and who I was writing about even though I didn't set out to do it at the time. It's an extremely simple song about wishing someone well on the journey of their life. What better way to draw the curtain on my time in NM than to set all of these images to this song?<br><br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="qSEwzZ9-Zsg" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/qSEwzZ9-Zsg/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qSEwzZ9-Zsg?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="400" width="640" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe><br><br><br>All in all, I'm really pleased with the way these came out and I'm glad they exist, however anyone else would like to receive them. I would encourage any indie musicians to be really creative with how you get videos done. If you have the budget to hire someone, by all means use their expertise, but we all know that's not an option in many cases. Don't be afraid to try it yourself! Use the landscape or interesting settings. If you want to lip sync, cool, but if you don't want to there are other options. Try out the iPhone for shooting video. And if it doesn't feel like your visual component is in harmony with the song, don't be afraid to go in a different direction. Be creative, and have fun!<br><br> Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38551252015-09-14T18:58:40-06:002017-01-16T09:18:02-07:00A Tale of Two CitiesAs I write this, it has been almost four weeks since I left Santa Fe to embark on a new life journey. In July, I was called to be the new full time Director of Music Ministries at the First United Methodist Church of Trussville, a suburb of Birmingham, AL. Life has been a whirlwind ever since, beginning with trying to discern if this was the correct call, advancing to packing up and saying goodbye to New Mexico, and finally to my current project of settling in and adapting to a new place and a new job. My time in New Mexico was a wonderful journey amidst the iconic and ethereal backdrop of the desert landscape, a time of great trial, great change, and great achievement. But for all of the positive things that New Mexico had to offer, it was simply time. Time to move on. Time to take on greater responsibilities. Time to step into roles toward which I have been moving for years. And thus far, it seems like this new opportunity and new place are a perfect fit. I spent 10 years in South Carolina and Louisiana before heading out west, and though I have developed a great love for the desert and will certainly return every once in a while, coming back to the south feels perfectly natural to me. This change, while difficult, was necessary. As one astute person told me before I left, I needed to have the chance "to fly."<br> <div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/baa2e5dc5e321d4d292ccec3a489498c7329775c/large/my-movie-7.jpg?1442278337" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">In Waldo Canyon, near Cerrillos, NM</p></div><br><br>So the music will change. The songs may talk a little less about deserts, although I'm sure I will carry those images with me wherever I go. But I believe there is a great deal more to write, and I'm looking forward to doing it through a new lens. Maybe I'll finally write that Bluegrass Concerto Grosso I've been talking about for 20 years: orchestra vs small ensemble of banjo, fiddle, washboard, and Jew's harp.<br><br>The altitude has also changed. It's lower. Much lower. I'm not sure I ever mastered running at 7,000 plus feet. Actually, I'm quite sure I never did. Here? 700 feet. I'll be looking forward to running 5ks at that altitude.<br><br>The photos will change. For one, they will be greener and have more sloping hills than jagged mountains and mesas. I've become attuned to the otherworldly imagery of New Mexico, but beauty is everywhere, and Northern Alabama is certainly full of it. Yes, there are mountains. There are also waterfalls and many areas of green space and wilderness that overlook the city of Birmingham. This area offers a lot of beauty that I am looking forward to exploring. <br> <div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/a20f6bb49980eb1715ce3dff2afb15b5510f741c/large/img-0598.jpg?1442278484" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">View of Birmingham from Ruffner Mountain in Irondale, AL</p></div><br>So I'm looking forward to many new experiences and adventures and to sharing what I find!!! All the best to everyone in The City Different, from over here in The Magic City.Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38511282014-07-07T19:50:23-06:002017-02-04T21:21:41-07:00An Evolutionary Process<p style="text-align: justify;">It’s a classic tale of “one thing led to another.” Microphones were purchased. New audio interfaces were hooked up. New software, plugins, and sound pathways were examined. What began as an experiment to test what I could come up with from simple, one-instrument-and-voice renderings of songs from the past two years, to see how I could do recording and mixing them one at a time on my own, quickly moved to the idea of a short EP and ultimately to a full CD. I had long hoped to find an engineer to record a new set of songs that I knew would be entitled <em>Evolution</em>… I just didn’t realize at the time that it would end up being me.</p>
<div class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_1568" style="width: 1414px"><div class="captioned justify_none"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/f1b1de1459b9f4b8469757eac7555451bab57f09/large/2-page2-page11.jpg?1442000362" class="size_orig justify_none border_" alt="" /><p class="caption">Pages from “Evolution” CD booklet</p></div></div>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><br>So, yes, a CD release is impending, and I’m so happy that my friends (Facebook and otherwise) have been stoked about it and wanted to know where to buy it. But make no mistake- I have not been “discovered.” Like so many other musicians these days, I have entered the DIY universe. I recorded, serving as my own engineer. I performed or programmed all the instruments and vocals but the viola, tracked by the young Allie Norris, a young violist from the United Church of Santa Fe who is now attending McGill University. I did the mixes and created my own arrangements. I did the package design on the CDs, right down to the photography. So I am pleased with, perhaps even proud of, what I’ve been able to accomplish, but for different reasons than you might have initially expected.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">One of the most difficult aspects of this process (besides, of course, the gargantuan learning curve that is Pro Tools) was figuring out how to mic (and then EQ) the piano. The sheer size of the instrument makes it difficult to capture without a bunch of weirdness. Over the past few years I have come to learn that I actually have strong opinions about how the piano should sound on a recording, and while I’m sure I’ll be continuing to learn better ways to do it, I’ve ultimately found some preliminary success by using four (yes, FOUR) mics at various locations on the piano. A stereo pair (Rode NT-55s) was placed toward the top end of the piano, with two wide-diaphragm condensers (AKG Perception mics) at the lower end. All four together helped to cover the entire spectrum of the instrument. Perhaps next time I’ll use six mics! Also, the High Pass Filter became my new best friend. Overall, the mic placement and EQing helped to cut down on the boomy boxiness and fuzziness that can happen when recording the piano. I am not a fan of pulling my voice way out front in the mix, and I find that the better the piano is recorded, the more of an equal partner it can be to the more easily captured vocals.<br> </p>
<div class="captioned justify_center"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/6febaec078cb495a01ee34b6c6e29658a06b290b/medium/pianomic1.jpg?1442000477" class="size_orig justify_center border_" /><p class="caption">It takes a village...<br><br>These songs are all piano-driven (I hope to do good recordings of some of the guitar songs like “Stand” and “Rain” next). The arrangements themselves are pretty simple. Some of the songs are still just voice and piano- they didn’t want anything else! Others are slightly more complicated, with strings, loops, and some electronic instruments. Overall I wanted the basic essence of the songs to come through without too much distraction. Big productions are fine, but both my personal tastes and my newness to the process made me feel that less was more. The vibe of the mixes ranges from spare singer-songwriter to slightly folky or Celtic (like the fiddle of “Walking in Babylon” or the Celtic-inspired piano turns in “Run to You”) to the slightly electronic influence of some of my favorite modern artists like Radiohead or the newer work of Tori Amos. Just a little dirt here, a little fuzz there, a little backwards reverb to bring us into the new section. Sometimes, all these elements come together to form a sound that feels like me.</p></div>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player?url=https%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F157738548&color=ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false" width="100%"></iframe></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">As you might expect from my work, the CD is a journey. The very title track, “Evolution,” deals with the idea of traveling through different destinations in life looking for truth that one ultimately goes on seeking forever. The songs deal with themes of looking into ones own darkness and accepting the gifts of grief, of embracing change wherever it comes, and of growing into oneself. It speaks of standing your ground and holding firm to your own truth, regardless of the threat it might present to others who are not ready to look within themselves. It acknowledges that some people and events become a part of you forever, and that trying to push down or amputate those pieces is fruitless, if not dangerous. It embraces emotions from hopefulness to anger, from grief to strength and acceptance, bringing to mind the words of Emily Dickinson:</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Anger as soon as fed is dead. ‘Tis starving makes it fat.”</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player?url=https%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F157739654&color=ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false" width="100%"></iframe></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Hopefully the overall journey is about becoming more human, a complete person that can embrace darkness as well as light. The CD ends with the suggestion of connection to another human being as a full spirit, capable of self reliance as well as interdependence, once the appropriate situation should arise.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">But, in the meantime, the protagonist will always have her shoes.</p>Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38511292014-05-09T21:48:34-06:002018-07-05T06:04:03-06:00Songscape: Moonrise<p style="text-align: justify;">In June of last year, I had the privilege of participating in an “Earth Honoring Faith” Seminar at Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, NM. The week consisted of interactive workshops that showed that Faith and honoring Creation are certainly not mutually exclusive (although I know there are many that would have you believe they are) and that encouraged participants to specifically think about lessons learned from the Desert. Along with my most excellent colleagues from the United Church of Santa Fe, I helped lead worship services at the end of each day, and I was blessed to direct a wonderful choir of seminar participants who offered two movements of my <em>Desert Mass</em> at the last worship service of the week. Author Terry Tempest Williams also gave soulful, sometimes cathartic talks each day before the concluding worship service. It was a week full of reflection and emotion, an experience that many would surely say was transformative, the effects of which would last a lifetime.</p>
<div id="attachment_1545" style="width: 473px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/10150610_10153998499155099_2649739490908659226_n.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/10150610_10153998499155099_2649739490908659226_n.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="10150610_10153998499155099_2649739490908659226_n" height="308" width="463" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">The view from the top of Chimney Rock, Ghost Ranch</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">I was admittedly nervous about spending a week in the rustic accommodations at Ghost Ranch. I didn’t know what to expect from what I knew would be a very communal experience. Fatigued from the previous year and agitated by the knowledge that great personal upheaval was staring me in the face that summer, I was dubious about my ability to entrench myself in even a place so spectacular as Ghost Ranch for days on end. But I set out with my trusty espresso machine, said goodbye to my internet connection and cell phone service for a week, and went about engaging a week of Earth-Honoring Faith.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Part of what made the week so wonderful was, of course, the awe-inspiring setting. The sessions and worship services were wonderful and, I think, fed and challenged everyone in attendance. But I think the people in attendance were what ultimately made the week one to remember- be they well-loved choir members and associates from United or new friends that traveled from across the country just to participate in the seminar. Everyone’s spirit contributed to the ethos of that week in late June in the High Desert of Northern New Mexico.</p>
<div id="attachment_1544" style="width: 472px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/994502_10152961836890099_142317409_n.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/994502_10152961836890099_142317409_n.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="994502_10152961836890099_142317409_n" height="307" width="462" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Hummingbird commune at Ghost Ranch</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">I wrote several songs that week (I was hoping I might write a song each day, but I stopped at 3 in three days). “Moonrise” was the last of those songs.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The song was inspired by a gradually growing group of friends that gathered on the Mesa at Ghost Ranch each night for sunsets, stargazing (complete with shooting stars), and, to eventually see the moon rise over Kitchen Mesa. It started with just a few people and grew to a healthy crowd by the end of the week. It was the culminating, social “cocktail” hour of each day. One morning I heard in my head the beginnings of a simple idea:</p>
<blockquote>
<p style="text-align: center;">The mesas put arms around the cool desert night.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">The stars were our cathedral, and the beer was our Communion wine.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>I immediately knew something worthwhile was going on. The rest is history. The first line is admittedly a nod to Michael Nesmith’s “Daily Nightly” (“…and mountainsides put arms around the unsuspecting city.”) The second line is anyone’s guess.</p>
<div id="attachment_1547" style="width: 472px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/IMG_5938.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/IMG_5938-1024x682.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="IMG_5938" height="307" width="462" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Mesas at Sunrise, Ghost Ranch</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">“Moonrise” echoes the ideas of Earth forming a center for worship, and love of people being the real focus of that worship. Engaging in the here and now with people whose company you enjoy, according to “Moonrise,” is the most spiritual of acts. The song itself is quite simple and I dare say a complete departure from anything that came before it. No angst or blood-letting about this one- It is folky, laid-back, and quite content to live in the moment.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><iframe width="100%" height="120" style="position: relative; display: block; width: 100%; height: 120px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/v=2/track=4000179419/size=large/bgcol=ffffff/linkcol=2ebd35/tracklist=false/artwork=small/" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I’ve played this song a few times and people really seem to enjoy it. Maybe it’s the simplicity of it. Maybe it’s the concept of a moonrise itself, which some people have told me fascinates them.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Or maybe it’s simply the feeling of connection to the Earth and to each other that one gets from a phrase like “and I’ll meet you on a shooting star.”</p>
<div id="attachment_1543" style="width: 473px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/993046_10152961833705099_355173560_n.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/993046_10152961833705099_355173560_n.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="993046_10152961833705099_355173560_n" height="346" width="463" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Sunset over Chimney Rock</p>
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Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38511302014-04-28T11:36:10-06:002017-02-04T21:21:42-07:00Exploring A New Wilderness<p style="text-align: justify;">When I first started dabbling in recorded media a few years ago, I was under the assumption that there is only one right “sound” for a recorded project and the recording engineer knows what that sound is. Further, said divine knowledge makes them able to magically produce a professional recorded sound that I could never reproduce on my own.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">But then I was encouraged by a friend to really listen to recordings. There are many, many different sound aesthetics out there… how far out the vocals are from the rest of the mix, the way the vocals are processed, the way the piano is recorded, the shape of the overall sound, etc. So my perception of the recording process has evolved. I am now under the assumption that there are a number of right ways to do it and the recording engineer knows what at least some of them are and probably has a bias toward a particular sound that he/she likes. Further, said divine knowledge still makes them able to produce a professional recorded sound that I am yet unable to produce on my own. But maybe I can eventually learn.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">So I’ve made some steps to try to be a little more self sufficient in the recording process. Maybe it will lead to me being able to create a decent mix that can be mastered by a second, educated set of ears. Or maybe I’m destined to post weird sounding recordings to Soundcloud for the rest of my life. Either way, much like when I cluelessly explore remote areas of NM without a compass, I’ll have a good time.</p>
<div id="attachment_1528" style="width: 459px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/wilderness.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/wilderness-1024x682.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="wilderness" height="299" width="449" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">A wilderness of a different kind</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">I find the tracking process interesting- like composing or orchestrating in real time. When I write a song, it is purely melody with piano or guitar accompaniment. Sometimes the song works best just like that, and everything that I write (that maintains my interest) seems to work well in this stripped down form. But exploring what can bring the song up to its full potential, be it a bass line, backing vocals, or an additional instrument, is really a fascinating birthing process. In this modern age, one can purchase some software like Pro Tools or Logic, invest in a decent audio interface and some good mics, hook them all up and be entertained for hours.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">But one also needs to learn a new language. Words like “Gate,” “Gain,” “Limiting,” and “Compression” all take on new meaning. I haven’t even come close to figuring it all out yet, but since I listen for a living I should be able learn to mix over time. Then there’s the room. This is the problem I’m having at present. And, when one is on a budget (because you’ve invested in a decent interface and mics) it’s tough to figure out how to make the room less present on the recording without spending a fortune on treatments. “Hey, on the recording my Martin sounds like an overgrown car stereo playing Snoop Dog. How do I fix that? Oh, I need to buy bass traps? Can I just stick a few pillows in a corner? No? How about my 15 pound cat? She’s pretty thick.” In the end, attention has to be paid to all elements to get a good recording, so I foresee a few bass traps and wall panels in my future.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I suppose the sane question to ask would be, “why bother?” I certainly don’t expect to become a professional recording artist, but the recent selection of “Beulah Land” for play on Women of Substance Radio has shown me that these songs do deserve to be out in the world, feeding people, making an impact, or just having a margarita with some new friends (we all want the best for our children, don’t we?)</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The DIY thing is very appealing and fun, but I am interested to see exactly where it will go. Can one really be singer, songwriter, arranger, engineer, mixer, even producer and make something stand up to industry standards? How much do we do ourselves with research, trial and error, and raw talent before we call in the professionals to master the sucker? I think a musician is always thinking about how he/she will share the music produced, and if it is to be formally released and sold, I do feel like we have a responsibility to make it a good product. At the very least, some really decent demos could make any future recording studio process infinitely more efficient.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">So this is where I am now: just beginning to learn all the basics of making a respectable recording and wondering when to give up and call in the pros. Here’s a snippet of “Stand,” an unfinished recording of a song I wrote last summer, with some extra vocal layers, a little bass, and one little acoustic guitar that occasionally sounds like it’s been sipping on gin and juice.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><iframe width="100%" height="166" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player?url=https%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F146903562&color=00cc11&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_artwork=true"></iframe></p>
Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38511312014-04-18T18:20:33-06:002017-01-16T09:18:00-07:00No Greater Love<p style="text-align: justify;">At last night’s Maundy Thursday service at the United Church of Santa Fe, an augmented version of the Sanctuary Choir premiered my newest piece, “No Greater Love.” This was a piece that got me up in the middle of the night to write the text and to write down the first four sonorities before putting it aside. I finally finished the piece months later, the Saturday before I needed to start rehearsing it with the choir. Sadly, this is an all-too-common occurrence.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">An even sadder fact is that I was all set to record said premiere with my handy new Xoom recorder. Here’s the thing about those schmanzy portable recorders, though- your SD card has to be formatted. If this seems complicated to you, it’s sort of akin to saying “here’s the thing about those computers- to get them to work, you have to push the ‘on’ button.” So there is no recording of the piece, but I can share the simple text, at least, based on John 15:13.</p>
<blockquote>
<p style="text-align: center;">No greater love,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">no nobler choice,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">no fairer heart,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">No greater love.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">No darker night,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">No heavier load,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">No stronger faith,</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">No greater love</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">than to lay down one’s life.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Let us love one another.<br><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/2c26c80d59ff6fb84ba68d0a218695295dd7815b/original/churchgrounds.jpg?0" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
</blockquote>
<div class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_1511" style="width: 342px"> </div>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I have to say, God bless the Sanctuary Choir. It’s become a running joke in several of my choirs that, every time a moment of dissonance shows up in any piece, it is referred to as a “Karen Moment.” When we first read the piece, basically based on a unison note that expands to a cluster of seconds, several of them fell over laughing in the first four “chords.” Other than that, after working with me for four years they just really don’t even seem to be fazed by seconds or sevenths anymore.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">This afternoon, someone from the congregation who had heard the piece last night said something that made me think. She grabbed me after the Good Friday service and told me that she had been thinking about all the pieces I had written for United, especially this last one, and had decided I was a “very spiritual person.” It was a nice compliment, and indicated that there was something about who I am that comes through in my writing. That in and of itself is a nice thought.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/165228/5d3c210a5c4e1092f92b59a283c1bb9255c5244a/original/img-5353.jpg?0" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">But then I thought about all the times that I somehow manage, regardless of intentions, to not put my best face forward, to say stupid things, and to basically make myself look like someone I’m not always sure I like. I couldn’t help but wonder: Is it possible that a stronger truth shines through from what I create, something that can redeem the moments in which I’m not perfect?</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">We all make mistakes in life. Part of the gift of being an artist is that we are constantly putting our souls out into the world. It betrays to the world the best version of ourselves, even when, in our human fallibility, we sometimes inadvertently do our best to show otherwise. I can only hope that, despite all of the boneheaded things I do or say as a mere mortal, those who encounter me can feel like they know me through what I write. And while we can never abdicate taking responsibility when things go awry, it is a comfort to consider that the music speaks a truth that no stumbling can ever really erase. And perhaps I can make it a goal to always strive to outwardly be that person that the music reveals that, at my core, I always am.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">So today I am glad for the truth of music and the unmistakable soul that it puts forth. As an imperfect, stumbling, bumbling human, alone in the wilderness, I find a balm in know that, even though I sometimes feel like I let the world down, it is possible that, through the music, the world always knows who I really am.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">And perhaps there is no greater love than that.</p>Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38511322014-04-14T22:13:11-06:002017-01-16T09:18:00-07:00The Balancing Act<p style="text-align: justify;">Through the wonders of social media, last week I saw a headline from <i>The Spectator</i> Magazine entitled “The mean bullying maestro is extinct- or should be.” The article by Peter Phillips (of Tallis Scholars fame) asserts that deplorable behavior from aggressive conductors indicates that they feel their extraordinary talent warrants said behavior “despite the fact that every musician knows they will perform better if they are encouraged rather than being shouted at. In this day and age, to have to play or sing in a state of fear of the maestro out front is simply counterproductive. No one will tolerate it; nor should they.”</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I’ve been seeing more and more of this sentiment around as of late- from recent interviews with Esa Pekka-Salonen to talks with the Santa Fe Desert Chorale’s Joshua Haberman. The idea is simple- if you want to get the most out of your performing forces (and if you want the experience to be one of growth for the performers), you need to do it from a place of respect. Encourage them, instruct them, and correct them when necessary. Guide them down a path to success rather than beating them into submission. If you’re a rational outsider, you wouldn’t think this was a radical idea. Unfortunately, it really is.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">When I was a Master’s candidate at Westminster Choir College, I was basically told point blank that I was never going to be the kind of leader to “get in somebody’s face.” And I didn’t want to be. My personal history, coupled with experiencing what happened with my own participation in choir when shouting and bullying were in any way a means of “teaching,” had already shown me that I was not interested in acting that way. “But,” I was told, “perhaps you could cajole them into doing it.” And thus a conducting persona was born- although it would take a good 5 or 6 years to start to blossom.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">As time has gone on and as I continue to develop (because I’m under no delusion that I’m a fully evolved conductor) I have tried to care for the people involved in music making while insisting on what I want. Relying on fear is not really necessary, at least in the realm of conducting adults. One can choose to draw a line in the sand and say, “no- do it again- this way” without launching a full-blown attack (or having a full-blown meltdown, as I’ve sometimes seen). If you rely on a teaching cycle and stick to your guns, you can begin to move forward without the theatrics.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Essentially, it all comes down to being able to guide and inspire people. If you don’t jump up and down, throw music stands, and belittle people to get what you want, does it mean that you don’t care about the outcome? Of course not. It means that the conductor is actually investing time, energy, and study into being a teacher and a leader rather than a bully who expects the singers to be able to do it without the conductor (or even worse, in spite of the conductor). It means that the conductor cares about and values the people involved in the music making in addition to the music itself. This practice, however, means caring enough about both the performers and the music to tell people when what they are doing is not good enough and how it can be better. It’s a balancing act, and I find that it’s the messenger, not the message, that influences the final outcome. If you respect people enough to tell them when it’s wrong, to tell them in a way that is constructive, and to show them how to fix it, you’re on the right track.</p>
<div id="attachment_1495" style="width: 586px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/karencam1.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/karencam1.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="With the Santa Fe Men's Camerata. Photo by Robin Rupe." height="384" width="576" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">With the Santa Fe Men’s Camerata. Photo by Robin Rupe.</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">In my choirs, we have a good time AND we learn things. Sometimes my singers are admittedly a little too excited to see each other, and I find I need to contend with their social exuberance. But, overall, I know they feel both pushed and safe- safe from a human perspective to engage in the choral experience, pushed from a musical perspective (and sometimes I’ll wager on a personal level) to go past their comfort zones. Very often the first comment I get from spectators is on the “way” I have with the singers and how the “lightness and levity” really helps the rehearsal process.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I have been honored and amazed to see the growth that occurs over time within the choirs. It happens in its time, with steadfast support and instruction, and often with me saying things like:</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“No. That’s not what I just asked for. Do it again.”</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Is that the way we rehearsed it? Do it again.”</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“We’ve encountered this same musical/vocal/vowel/phrasing situation 9,000 times in 2 billion pieces. What do you think I want from you here?”</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">(Okay, that last one is a paraphrase, but essentially the way it happens. Conductors know what I’m talking about.)</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">If you insist on it, and in a way the singers can understand, they will do it for you. There’s really no need to act like you need a diaper change. Inherently the performers should WANT to do well, and they’re looking to you for information on how to make it the best it can be. If they’re not doing what you want, the first thing a conductor should ask him/herself is “what am I doing or not doing to make the choir sing this the way I would like?” I know- I have to ask myself that almost every day. As Phillips states, “the maestro’s belief that he is right by definition” is an outdated, erroneous modus operandi. This is where we can let the singers be OUR teachers. Like the performers, the conductor must also be willing to evolve and adapt to make the performance be the best one possible.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">So is the bullying maestro extinct? Should “he” (or “she”) go the way of the dinosaur? I think the more of us there are that can gently but insistently push our choirs to continued new heights of achievement through education, firmness, and encouragement, the better the music world will be. I know I personally will be continuing to work on perfecting this balancing act. In another 30 years or so, I should almost have it.</p>
<div id="attachment_1500" style="width: 701px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/photo.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/photo.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Encourage growth in unexpected places." height="562" width="691" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Encourage growth in unexpected places.</p>
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<p> </p>
Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38511332014-03-13T23:44:06-06:002022-03-26T05:57:34-06:00Finding Your Voice<p style="text-align: justify;">It was a normal day in Cyberland- Facebook was brimming with the typical bevy of cat pictures, George Takei posts, and half-baked political opinions. (Note: of these, I do love me some cats and George Takei. But I digress.) There was also a post (all names shall be omitted to protect the misguided) about this fabulous, young, new composer on the block that EVERYONE should hear. As a conductor who loves to program new things, I eagerly examined the work of this young whippersnapper. Only… in the first three chords I realized that, although the young ‘un most assuredly had a compositional voice of his own waiting to get out… I was listening to Eric Whitacre. To be totally honest, I don’t even remember the young composer’s name, because it was so Whitacre-esque that “Whitacre” is all I remember.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Is Eric Whitacre’s music harmonically lush, awesome, and accessible? Sure. Is he funny on Facebook and walking the earth with oh-so-fabulous hair? Of course he is. But all young composers take note: he’s got his sound covered. You don’t need to repeat it.</p>
<div id="attachment_1472" style="width: 469px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/Trail.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/Trail-1024x682.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Blaze your own &%$^%$#### trail." height="305" width="459" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Blaze your own &%$^%$#### trail. Seriously.</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">Imitation is a practice that I feel should be limited to the “discovery” mode of composition. When I first started writing music in a classical idiom, I first emulated Mozart, then Morten Lauridsen. And, to be fair, I did learn from composer Joel Phillips to “analyze with intent to steal” and to “lift and learn.” But as I grew in my knowledge, other influences began to creep in. There was chant. Impressionism. The colorful harmonies of Poulenc. The folk influence of Vaughan Williams. Early composers such as Machaut and Josquin. Celtic music. Barber. Britten. And then there were the influences of the popular music I consumed- folk and progressive music of the 60s, Michael Nesmith, Radiohead, Tori Amos, Peter Gabriel. All of these ingredients went into creating who I am as a composer. Ideally what should happen is that all of the musical influences we experience should go into “the soup.” What comes out when everything is mixed together and allowed to simmer should be something unique- your OWN voice, rather than someone else’s. By the time you’re being published or being pushed on social media, that voice should be in place. It can always evolve, but as a conductor I want to hear who YOU are- not how well you can regurgitate the voice of one or two successful composers. They do what they do well, and it’s THEIR thing. Why do we feel the need to try to be someone else, even as creative beings?</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I think part of what influences composers to jump on a bandwagon is the herd mentality that eats up fads, even in classical and choral music. At conferences one is exposed to a lot of music that sounds the same. It’s “commercial.” It sells, because everyone is following a certain trend or style. So of course on some level ambitious composers are going to want to tailor their music to that trend. I understand the business sense of it- but as for the artistry, I am at a loss to explain it. In fashion, one should only adopt trends that really work for his/her body and lifestyle. It’s nice to be aware of what’s going on, but trends should only be adopted in a way that can enhance you (rather than trying to squeeze you into someone else’s box.) It’s the same with music- it’s fine to analyze a sound you like, but figure out a way to incorporate it into your own musical language rather than letting your musical language become someone else’s.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">There are certain composers (besides yours truly) that I really enjoy because they have their own voice. Michael McGlynn, Ola Gjeilo, Jocelyn Hagen, Abbie Betinis… when I hear these folks, I hear a particular point of view, a sound that is their own. I want to hear diversity and authenticity- not someone trying to fit into a formula that has worked to make money for someone else. I understand the compulsion to make money as a composer- but at the heart of things, when it works you’re expressing your own soul. And no one else’s is exactly like yours. Why should your music be exactly like theirs?</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I figured out years ago that the thing that would keep me in the choral field is the discovery of new, inventive, authentic choral sounds. I’m not particularly interested in the popular or the commonplace. And as a composer I’m always trying to reach down and push beyond where I’ve been. Redoing even myself gets boring after one or two pieces. Whether as composer or interpreter, if we fail to grow or to be inspired by new and visionary works, we stagnate… and that can have terrible long term consequences.</p>
<div id="attachment_1473" style="width: 437px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/grow.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/grow-1024x682.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="grow" height="284" width="427" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Grow.</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">So be yourself- loudly. We live in a world that desperately needs vision, authenticity, and beauty, and we all want to hear what you have to say. Your life experience and influences are your own, and we want to see how they’ve shaped you. We want to see and hear your authentic self. After all, it’s so much more interesting and inspiring than being somebody else.</p>
<p> </p>
Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38511342014-03-07T00:30:42-07:002017-01-16T09:18:01-07:00Songscape: Beulah Land<iframe frameborder="no" height="166" scrolling="no" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/223426867&color=ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false" width="100%"></iframe>
<p style="text-align: justify;">It takes a bold landscape to stand, exposed, as wind and rain have formed it. It is otherworldly, a “savage beauty,” something that has been shaped by weather, eruptions, and time. Of course I am talking about the strange and iconic landscape of Northern New Mexico, with its stretches of badlands and red rock country. There is no gradual ascent and sloping climb into the mountains, as it seems when one is traveling into the mountainous regions of the Southeast. Out here, vast stretches of flat land and huge skies lend an uninterrupted canvas to mountains that seem to simply jut up out of the ground. Hoodoos and strange rock formations stand naked in the face of the wind, and volcanoes and volcanic plugs can be seen from miles away. Nothing here is obscured by stretches of trees- it’s simply “out there.”</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG_4205.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/IMG_4205-682x1024.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="IMG_4205" height="498" width="332" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">These formations- hoodoos, volcanic ridges, massive rock structures, mesas- were created many years ago through volcanic eruptions and sculpted over time by water and wind. The beauty in these structures may not be what one typically seeks- no lush forests, no sandy beach in the distance, no showering of green or the myriad colors of a landscaped garden. It’s a primal beauty, the beauty of something that has been sculpted into something completely its own by storms and, quite literally, earth-shaking events. And these formations stand there, out in the open, a mystical testament to how we are all shaped over time.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Weather is also still changing these formations, and over time they will slowly be something completely different than what someone might see if they visit Abiquiu or the Bisti Badlands in 1,000 years.</p>
<div class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_1405" style="width: 437px">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/IMG_6179.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/IMG_6179-1024x1024.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Ghost Ranch" height="427" width="427" /></a>
<p class="wp-caption-text">A Red Rock Sky</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;"> So it is with all of us. In our own lives, there are violent storms, eruptions, and turbulent winds, and we are shaped by these things into who we are. And, just like the badlands of New Mexico, we too are still in the process of being formed. This process may mean that what we’ve been in the past can no longer be sustained- we become something new and grieve for the parts that have passed away. We can choose to try to mold ourselves into something we’re not, something that counters what the storms have done. We can choose to try to say, “well, there are no storms,” or “those storms are in the past and they don’t affect me now.” It only takes an honest look inside to know that is not true and will never be true. As long as we hold to those ideas, we’ll never fully develop into who we really are. It is much better to take the storm ravaged parts of our souls and incorporate them into the new creature with honor.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Because of all the reasons listed above, I’ve always said that the New Mexico vistas made sense to me. I feel a kinship with the exposed, rugged, ravaged landscape. The word “beulah” is a Biblical reference to being one with the land, a “marriage” with the landscape. So, although the phrase “Beulah Land” has been used in hymns to refer to the place from which one can see heaven, here it has to do with a land in which one’s soul is rooted and in which we can truly see ourselves. There is sympatico here, self-revelation. These rocks have <em>been</em> there. They’ve been through that. And they’re still standing.</p>
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<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/IMG_5938.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/IMG_5938-1024x682.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Ghost Ranch Mesas at Sunrise" height="315" width="474" /></a>
<p class="wp-caption-text">Ghost Ranch Mesas at Sunrise</p>
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<p style="text-align: center;"><em> Karen Marrolli will play “Beulah Land” and a bunch of songs no one’s ever heard before at Ravensong, a monthly singer-songwriter showcase, on Wednesday, March 12 at 7:00 pm. Ravensong happens at Iconik Coffee, Lena Street, Santa Fe.</em></p>Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38511352014-02-28T19:54:20-07:002017-01-16T09:18:01-07:00Going the Distance<p style="text-align: justify;">Looking back, I’m sure that most (sane) people would say that coming out to New Mexico was the zaniest thing I’ve ever done. It’s the question I get asked most: “What in <em>the world</em> brought you out here?” Okay, maybe it’s not asked QUITE that way, but that is usually the intent behind the question. Journeys are funny. You put one foot in front of the other, sometimes without being able to see what’s around the bend… and you <em>just go</em>. Because going feels like the right thing to do.</p>
<div id="attachment_1443" style="width: 778px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/bblog.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/bblog.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="bblog" height="512" width="768" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">You are entering the Pecos Wilderness…</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">The spring of 2010 was not that long after the financial troubles that came with 2008. University jobs, in general, are not the easiest for ABD candidates to come by, and at that time that was infinitely more true. But an even more pressing matter was impacting what jobs attracted me while I was finishing my doctorate- that it was very likely that I was <em>something else</em>. Something outside the traditional mold of pursuing one’s doctorate to qualify for university teaching positions. While I was an assistant conductor at Grace Episcopal Church in Charleston, SC, I had a visiting Bishop tell me that I had “church musician written all over me” and that he was surprised that I might consider a career in academia. My time at Ingleside United Methodist Church in Baton Rouge confirmed that I was happiest connecting with amateur singers, committing to social action, serving as a Music Minister and/or teacher, and putting together services or programs that were meaningful in a spiritual way. I have, however, always done it in a slightly more academic fashion, a habit brought to full fruition by my education at LSU. I endeavor to be what Dr. Kenneth Fulton calls an “evolutionary teacher”- teach the singers to teach themselves. Give them tools so that they don’t have to sit back and wait for instruction. And, in my book, don’t expect less just because they are a “community” or a “church” choir. Push them as far as (and maybe even a little farther than) they can go. Encourage them to do things they think they can’t do and guide them through doing it. Someday I may decide to slug it out in Academia, but for the moment I am predisposed to working with community choirs.</p>
<div id="attachment_1439" style="width: 626px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/blog1.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/blog1-1024x418.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Mini-version of the United Church Sanctuary Choir" height="251" width="616" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Mini-version of the United Church of Santa Fe Sanctuary Choir. Photo by Ursula Marrolli.</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">So it was with that mindset that I began pursuing way more Music Minister positions than Assistant Professor Positions, and I was getting responses. By the end of my search, I was getting many, many responses. But I was lured by a progressive church to join a dynamite staff at the United Church of Santa Fe in a part time position as Director of Choral Ministries. I’ve examined the path to this decision and extolled the obvious virtues of United in a previous post, <a title="The Road Not Taken" href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/the-road-not-taken/">“The Road Not Taken.”</a> It began something like this:</p>
<blockquote><p>Throughout my various experiences with using music as a source of healing, it has gradually become clear to me that my ultimate goal is to put myself in places where I can do the most good. To me, this is more important than building a resume or national reputation as a conductor… My preference is to program music that ministers to others or helps them in some way. Otherwise, I really don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it.</p></blockquote>
<p style="text-align: justify;">In addition to working part-time with the choirs at United, I decided to accept an offer to work in Student Affairs at an area arts college to ease my transition into Santa Fe. I hoped to make connections in the music world while helping to mentor the arts students that studied there. I had almost always worked in Student Affairs to some degree, and I had an outstanding talent and passion for it, so this was a natural fit. And at the outset it all went very well.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">But as time went on it became clear that I needed to spread my wings as a musician in Santa Fe. Slowly but surely, in a way I had never seen in all of my experience working in Student Affairs, I started to see an unhealthy amount of overreach that could only lead to burnout in such an emotional and time intensive job. Fortunately I had come from several wonderful experiences working with live-in staff, and I knew that my conditions were a) not normal and b) not sustainable. So I decided to remove myself post-haste. Fortunately, as all of this was developing a local Women’s Choir, The Zia Singers, approached me to audition to be its new director. I resigned my Student Affairs position exactly one day before I even auditioned for The Zia Singers, not knowing what the outcome would be. What I did know for certain was that I would never be permitted to conduct the Zias while in employment at the college. So I jumped. I took the audition. And that evening I got a phone call saying that The Zia Singers wanted me to be their Conductor.</p>
<div id="attachment_1444" style="width: 778px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/bbblog.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/bbblog.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="The Zia Singers at Immaculate Heart of Mary Chapel" height="510" width="768" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">The Zia Singers at Immaculate Heart of Mary Chapel. Photo by Keith Swartz.</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">Life changed… and remained chaotic. I moved from the college campus to a little apartment downtown. I helped in the church office while they searched for a new office administrator. I guest conducted Coro de Camara, the chamber choir of Los Alamos and Santa Fe. I started my tenure with the Zias. In the spring, I was approached by a member of the Santa Fe Men’s Camerata, asking me to audition for their Conductor position. And so I did, and became the young female conductor of the men’s chorus of Santa Fe, in addition to my work with the Zias and the Children’s Choir and Sanctuary Choir at United. Things were happening.</p>
<div id="attachment_1440" style="width: 701px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/blog2.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/blog2.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Full disclosure: This is a Monty Python Singalong. Santa Fe Men's Camerata" height="461" width="691" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Full disclosure: This is a Monty Python Singalong. Santa Fe Men’s Camerata- Photo by Ursula Marrolli.</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">Late in the fall of 2012, the Cantu Spiritus Chamber Choir was but a gleam in the eye of its now-manager and former Men’s Camerata singer, Charles Reyna. For some reason I was looking at Craigslist (research to see what voice teachers might charge) and saw a call for a conducting applicant. I responded, not realizing that the ad was posted by a Cameratan. The rest, as they say, is history. We began the work of putting together an all-acappella chamber choir, which gave its first full concert last November. Ockeghem to Othmayr, Morley to Marrolli. That’s how we roll.</p>
<div id="attachment_1441" style="width: 701px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/blog3.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/blog3.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="In Love and War: The Cantu Spiritus Chamber Choir" height="461" width="691" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">In Love and War: The Cantu Spiritus Chamber Choir. Photo by Ursula Marrolli.</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">And all the while, I have been writing music- both choral music and songs. Two pieces, “Let Us Come” and “O Dayspring,” have been picked up for publication by Morningstar Music. Perhaps most interesting is that I gained the confidence to write not only the music but also the texts of these pieces because of my songwriting. I try to periodically do live “singer-songwriter” performances- my next mini-performance will be at Ravensong, a singer-songwriter showcase at Iconik Coffee, on March 12, and I will be participating musically in some of Vevo Contemporary’s Gallery Happenings this summer.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Could all of this have happened anywhere else? Probably not. As I’ve said before, during my interview at United I was told that people come out to Santa Fe and “become who they are.” That has certainly happened in my case. I think the moral of the story is, sometimes you just have to jump, to take an uphill and/or obscured path. Some of my pathway has been bloody, but I do know now that I wouldn’t be writing the things I’m writing, wouldn’t have perspective to put together the powerful programs the choirs have presented, wouldn’t have the edge to conduct some of the aggressive works that I’ve conducted, had I not walked through some thorny patches. Every time a new, meaningful piece gets birthed, every time my formerly timid self manages to pull off leading a piece like Jocelyn Hagen’s “Moon Goddess,” every time I get an email that a piece has been accepted for publication, I always reflect on what brought me to that point and the rough circumstances that pulled out that strength, that text, those emotions. And it brings to mind the words of Jeffrey Jones’ rendering of Emperor Joseph II in <em>Amadeus</em>:</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">“Well. There it is.”</p>
<div id="attachment_1445" style="width: 579px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/IMG_4626.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/IMG_4626-1024x682.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Atalaya Summit: A Good Uphill Climb" height="378" width="569" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Atalaya Summit: A Good Uphill Climb</p>
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<p>And things are still happening.</p>
Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38511362014-02-23T23:26:39-07:002017-01-16T09:18:02-07:00Storytellers<p style="text-align: justify;">“You really should tell your story.” I’ve heard this a number of times. The story the person wants told depends on who is asking and what they actually know of me. It could be the story of the girl with the meager beginnings who goes on to get her doctorate. The story of the girl with a dismal upbringing that goes on to… well, do anything. The story of someone who wandered into Santa Fe and became the conductor of four beautifully satisfying choirs. The story of a girl who wandered into Santa Fe and remembered how to compose and write songs. You get the idea. The list goes on.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The difficulty is, sometimes the part where we begin to really tell our story is where we get ourselves into trouble. Truth is not always terribly welcome. Sometimes, yes, the focus is on the wonderful things that can happen if we just hang on. Sometimes, however, the focus has to be on the times when things are not so wonderful- the times in which just finding the strength to take the next step is a miracle. In my life, I have found that these moments have been the ones that have made me, and these moments have just as much a right to be in the light as any other. They show the reader not only the moments where we’re okay, where everything has worked out for the best, but also the moments that many of us try to hide- the moments in which we’re broken. The breaking is temporary, but one does not always realize that when one is in the situation. Speaking from our weaknesses and our struggles, as well as our moments of strength, reaches out to others like no other medicine I have ever encountered. It shows, in a world that suggests that it has no tolerance for darkness, that in your own darkness you are, in fact, not alone. Someone has walked whatever road you are on. And you will see the end of it- or at least the continuation into another landscape.</p>
<div id="attachment_1380" style="width: 419px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/thorns.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/thorns-682x1024.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="613" width="409" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Amid the thorns, there is a bud. Photo by Karen Marrolli</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">I started writing this blog upon my arrival in Santa Fe because I was so fascinated with the way that, during the writing of my doctoral dissertation, I could consult the blog of composer Michael McGlynn as a scholarly resource. I thought it was revolutionary that I could get into the head of a composer and see what really inspired him and made him tick through his writings on the internet. I suppose I hope that someday someone might want to write an article or dissertation on me, and that said person would look at what I have written and use it to place my works in a sort of emotional continuum or landscape, as well as to document what has gone on with my life artistically and professionally. That was the original intent of me beginning this blog, that has always been the thrust of each post that has been written, and that is what I intend to do from henceforth. I have needed to take a step back from writing prose, but I have sensed that now is a wonderful time to continue my quest for writing meaningful posts that examine that various facets of my artist-hood: examinations of the songs and compositions, revisiting of the choral programs that permeate my life here in Santa Fe, photo blogs of the landscapes that not only inspire my compositions but also anchor me professionally to this place, thoughts on subjects that are vitally important to choral music in general, and posts that elaborate upon who I am as a composer and a musician- what has formed me, what continues to shape me, and what supports me along my journey.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">So I will continue to tell my stories, as should we all. I know in my own life there are beautiful stories to be told- stories of things that looked terribly dark but turned into miracles that no one could have imagined, stories that show the universe is unfolding as it should, stories that show that we must never, ever give up, stories that reveal the kooky, uncanny nature of “the source,” “creativity,” or whatever you’d like to call it.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Personally, I’m currently settling down with a good book known as “life” to see how it unfolds.</p>
Karen Marrollitag:karenmarrollimusic.com,2005:Post/38511372013-07-19T12:05:26-06:002017-01-16T09:18:02-07:00Songs from a Desert Sky<p style="text-align: justify;">Straddling two musical worlds is a delicate task. How does one move gracefully between situations where, in one moment, the musician is expected be the fearless, impervious leader who gives instruction and “takes no prisoners,” and in another, the vulnerable singer alone at the piano, bringing pieces of herself to light? After all, my singers have enough difficulty comprehending seeing me at the gym or in the grocery store (yes, we do that, too!) let alone being let into a world in which they can see I’ve experienced trials, loss… even joy… just like them.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I suppose the answer is simple. It works because truly great conducting comes from a place of vulnerability, great leadership comes from a place of empathy… and great songwriting comes from a place that can express the personal while still taking no prisoners.</p>
<div id="attachment_1071" style="width: 361px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/553935_4352505539580_1209459172_n.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/553935_4352505539580_1209459172_n.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="470" width="351" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">Karen Marrolli at “Collected Words and Music,” Photo by Susan Swartz</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">On Sunday I will present a solo acoustic singer-songwriter concert that encompasses many emotions. Often through the lens of nature and/or the desert, the songs are expressions of many things- strength, self-reliance, friendship, love, loss, inner journeys. Sometimes the emotions expressed are easy to face: joy, trust, faith. But I also have no qualms about facing the darkness head on to get to a place of strength. There are acknowledgements of the indomitable, the vulnerable, the broken. Moments in which we ask those gone too soon to teach us that we are wasting time. Moments where we learn the formational value of cataclysmic events from the desert. Moments of simply enjoying a desert moonrise with friends. Moments where we reach out to someone else to say, “I’ve been down this road. Here, take the next step.”</p>
<div id="attachment_1371" style="width: 419px" class="wp-caption aligncenter">
<a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/IMG_3411.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/IMG_3411-942x1024.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="444" width="409" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">“Where There’s Fire” at Java Joe’s with Laurianne Fiorentino, photo by Susan Swartz.</p>
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<p style="text-align: justify;">These songs have been and continue to be my teachers, my epiphanies, my answers, my spirit guides. The best part, however, is when any composition of mine, be it a song or a choral work, comes alive in a performance and reaches out and speaks to others. Several of the songs have done this, as has “The Waiting,” a choral work that I wrote for the Taylor Festival Choir about the slow process of healing from darkness, a topic I often broach in the songs. It touched one spectator so much that she claimed it had literally changed her life.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">That’s why I never shy away from engaging darkness to come through to a place of light. That’s why I embrace and harness my own vulnerability to create music, especially if it might help just one other person. That’s why I do what I do.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/karenmarrolliposter.jpg"><img src="//www.karenmarrolli.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/karenmarrolliposter-1024x785.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="358" width="467" /></a></p>
<p> <em>Karen Marrolli presents “Songs from a Desert Sky” on Sunday, July 21 at 3pm at the Santa Fe Center for Spiritual Living (505 Camino de Los Marquez). Admission is free, donations accepted.</em></p>
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Karen Marrolli