Starting last year, and continuing into this year has been quite an interesting journey so far, with many new roads and offshoots demanding my attention.
Most of all, I find it hard to write about this subject without feeling like I am being a bit pretentious. After all, I am descended from immigrant Italians. I have no connection to any tribes. I live in the area of the country that has the largest Native American (tribal) population in the United States. I feel honored to be able to try, in my way, to learn this instrument and embrace its culture. I want to do this in a way that does not cause offense. It is time that we, as the uninvited culture, embrace and honor the culture that was here before us.
Since starting on this journey, I have been researching the history of the flute, and there is so much to learn – and unlearn, as well. But, enough of vague commentary.
Most of my technical learning has been through the John Vames’ Understanding the Gift, Volume 1. It’s pretty informative, and good for someone who doesn’t have a very formal music background, like me. I also found R. Carlos Nakai’s The Art of the Native American Flute a must have for understanding how this instrument became what it is today, and how important is to understand its role in bridging between the white and tribal nations.
My practice is sporadic, but mostly because I am caught between following a traditional music theory path, and what some people call an improv path. My guess is that my approach could be somewhere between the two – learning the basics of reading Nakai Tab and traditionally written music, and then playing straight from the heart. I have seen Nakia in concert twice so far. And the impression I walked away with from both venues (one with the RCNQ and the other with MusicaNova) is that RC soars when he plays from the heart.
My very first live exposure to the NAF was hearing Tony Duncan play at a Cave Creek (AZ) Art festival. It was just so beautiful I could only dream of being able to try and play. Yet, here I am, with five flutes to my name, still stumbling my way through finding my voice. That, I understand, comes with time. And the flutists that I have spoken with that play from the heart stress how important it is to be able to separate yourself from the western music style to achieve the real peace and grace that is present in the Native American flute.
That said, here is my first public performance, done on a volunteer basis. There is so much more to learn!
Koko’s Lament by John Vames, played by Claudia Cocco
There are so many weaving drafts out on the internet, whether through social media or dedicated websites it’s overwhelming at times. Some people like to “design” their own weaving drafts – and I have weaving buddies that do some incredible designing. My needs are pretty basic ( and on an 8 shaft loom). Most times I can take a basic pattern and just by the choice of fiber make it a different animal.
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Woodpeckers Don’t Get Concussions
Sometimes small truths put life in perspective and help us get through the day. For Leo Kottke, who played a smoking concert at the Musical Instrument Museum (MIM) in Phoenix last night, the title remark was his concert opening.
Leo Kottke has been at the fringe of my musical attention for many years, but I never had an obvious and realistic opportunity to see him play in person. Let’s face it – going to a concert these days is an assault on the senses. It seems most venues continually find ways to amplify music to the point of hearing oblivion, with lights and flashes to amplify the pain to the infinite level. I don’t appreciate walking out of a concert not being able to hear for three days afterwards. That said, thank god for performers like Leo Kottke, and venues like the MIM, to bring music back to the level where it can be experienced and appreciated in full resonance, enhancing your mind instead of crushing it in your body.
There is something magical in finding a lone musician on stage, instruments at the ready, plying the craft and producing a personal experience. Back in the day, in Jersey (New Jersey), my high school friends and I would find ways to get tickets to performers at the Capital Theater in Passaic, NJ. It was a triple X theater by day, so you can imagine parental reaction to that factoid. It was there that we saw Melanie, Jackson Brown, New Orleans, Elvis Costello, among others. But it was in that creaky, stale-smelling old theater that I learned the appreciation of listening to musicians tell and sing their stories, with music being the main attraction, in what could idealogically be described as an elegant and intimate space.
I am sure that there are other modern venues like the MIM throughout the country. My hats off to them, because it’s that experience that will keep real music alive, at least in my life.
And thank you, Leo Kottke, for helping to keep these venues viable. Enjoyed the performance. And that “song from the 60’s” you hadn’t played in a while but played last night – it was my favorite of the evening. To quote a former boss of mine, if the past memory is bad, go back and change the memory to the present.
Life is good.
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