Outside the Echo Chamber, part I: Introduction

            For those who dont know me, my name is William Carrigan, and I am in charge of operations and business strategy here at Open G Records. You are currently reading the first of a series of blog entries that I am writing to advance a concept that plays an important role in our strategy at Open G, and is also important for anyone seeking to make a meaningful and successful statement in their artistic career. This concept is a phenomenon called the ideological echo chamber; and although it is most often associated with political and religious groups, it can just as easily be used to describe groups within the art world, particularly those possessing a rich tradition. (Side bar: If I ever start to seriously use phrases like that, shoot to kill.)  Put simply, an echo chamber is a group of people who think alike, primarily share ideas amongst themselves, and rarely venture outside of their group to seek the counsel of others. Though my comments will generally be directed at those who would identify themselves as classical musicians (after all, this is a classical record labels blog), artists from all art forms and genres will hopefully find ideas in these entries that they can use to avoid artistic echo chambers and further their own unique vision in new and exciting ways.

            We live in a time when most major universities in the United States have a freestanding music school that offers degrees in classical music and jazz music. I dont think its absurd to predict that as soon as the traditions of rock and hip hop have been quantified and shaped into a curriculum that can be shoveled into the mouths of eager students, degree programs for these genres will come to exist in many of the same schools. In all of these programs, students will spend hours learning everything they could ever forget about the rich tradition of their chosen style of music. They will stay up late cramming for exams and having deep conversations wondering what they will do after they have graduated into a world where people dont seem to care about their art. Many will graduate without an answer to this question and will postpone the real world by going on to get their graduate degrees. Those who are truly enamored with academia will spend even more time in school getting their doctorates. When graduation can no longer be avoided, a select few may go out into the world and pursue a career creating and performing, though the majority will fall back on non-musical jobs or become professors. These professors will go on to teach the next generation of students, and the cycle will begin again.

            Now, I dont mean to imply that school is horrible and that music with historical traditions should just keel over and be dead already. Personally, I am grateful for the time I was able to spend studying music during my undergraduate years, and the general knowledge that I now have of the Western musical tradition has proven to be helpful in my practice and in my playing. What concerns me, however, is that those of us who care about historical music face a cultural dead end if we continue to close ourselves off within self-feeding collectives stubbornly adhering only to our selective enlightened traditions. After all, if  real music died in 1897 (Brahms) or 1955 (Charlie Parker) or 1970 (Jimi Hendrix) or even 2006 (J Dilla), then what the hell is the point of being a musician anymore? Nobody really gets THAT excited about a cover band.

            No, Ill be writing these blogs in hopes that they will be a starting point for those who are looking for ways to break through the crushing mold of tradition to create something that inspires both their own artistic spirit and, I believe more importantly, the imagination of the community around them. Along the way, I will point out people and groups that I believe are doing exciting work in this regard; and I welcome any and all suggestions of artists who have inspired you through my email which is listed below. I hope that these blogs will prove as challenging to your own artistic beliefs and priorities as the process of writing them will be for my own.

 

Until next time,

William

 

William Carrigan is a bass player and songwriter based in New York City, as well as the current Chief Operations Officer at Open G Records. He graduated from East Carolina University with degrees in classical and jazz performance and currently attends New York University in pursuit of a Masters degree in music business. He can be reached at will@opengrecords.com.

Last day in St. Louis

So, I'm just about done with my trip. So far I've gathered a lot of video and audio of Nina and Scott warming up, rehearsing, and performing. Today I'll gather some shots of their life with their family and sit them down for a short interview about the project.

I feel good about what we've done. All of this will be edited for a short film to be part of a Kickstarter campaign to fund the record and build the Open G community. It's exciting and scary. I've never done anything like this before, and it's so far outside of my comfort zone that I just have to try not to doubt myself.

Scott and Nina are so much fun to hang with and listen to. I just know that the ethos of this project and the Open G concept are both beautiful and strong, and I truly believe that people will want to be a part of this and future projects.

Bonus rehearsal footage

While I was setting up mics, Nina and Scott played this lovely recap of the 2nd movement of the Brahms sonata in Eb. It's so beautiful to see them playing so easily and naturally together. Only a taste of what's to come!

While we set up for a recording session, Nina and Scott played this lovely recap of the 2nd movement.

Day one down, day two up

Yesterday was really productive with Scott and Nina. I did a brief interview with Scott in his car while he drove to an afternoon performance with the St. Louis Symphony for the St. Louis Opera. (Sidebar - The Elixir of Love ain't no feminist manifesto). After that, Nina and Scott rehearsed for about an hour in their home while I filmed and recorded them with good equipment. I've already converted and edited the video, and today I'll work on matching the good audio with the good video.

Today we're going to the Steinway showroom here in St. Louis, where I'll film and record Nina and Scott as they play the 2nd movement of the Brahms sonata in Eb. Then we'll sit down for an interview before Scott has to play for the opera again this evening.

So far, so good. Just making it happen.

Starting work on the next one...

I flew to St. Louis yesterday to begin work with Open G artists Nina Ferrigno Andrews and Scott Andrews. Today I'll be filming and taping Nina and Scott as they rehearse, as well as laying down a podcast later this evening after Scott plays an opera with the St. Louis Symphony.

I can't lie: I'm a little nervous about all of this. It's one thing to have done all of this for my own project. It's another entirely to do it for someone else, much less my lifelong best friend. This project begins the real flowering of the idea for Open G Records, and as such it's important for me to make it great. Now all I have to do is do it.

Updates in the coming days, including some footage of what we're doing.

Open G + GoPro = Awesome

Recently four Open G artists (Xak, Zvi, X, and myself) got together to rehearse and perform Olivier Messiaen's "Quartet for The End of Time". I set up my GoPro on a headmount and took a couple of brief rehearsal clips from my vantage point. The results ended up being pretty cool!

The first clip is from the end of our second day of rehearsal. We were completely tired out, but I convinced the guys to play the last few minutes of the sixth movement ("Dance of Fury, of The Seven Trumpets") for the camera. I'm really glad I did! The second clip is from our first day of rehearsals, and is probably the second run at the fourth movement ("Interlude").

Why Open G?

Good question. Let’s get the name out of the way:

  1. “Open G is the first note I learned to play on the clarinet. No fingers, just air: open G.
  2. There is an open G string on every stringed instrument.
  3. My last name starts with G.

So there you go.

I started Open G with the idea of creating an artist-driven indie classical label, but the idea soon became much larger than that. What I realized is that there are a lot of people out there who (like me) love music, but (again like me) find the traditional classical industry to be hopelessly old-fashioned at best. To that end, Open G Records (opengrecords.com) is an attempt to create and nurture a community of musicians, artists, thinkers, and fans. Its my fervent hope that as the idea grows the fans and artists will together shape content from the label, choosing projects and directions as a community. In addition, beyond creating great new recordings with a roster of world-class musicians, Open G Records is a home for podcast interviews with musicians, composers, actors, and other interesting people, as well as a place where you can find essays about music and life written by myself and others. Open G Records is a place for music and ideas.

I believe that the people who make art are often as interesting as the art itself. Showing the process of making and recording music is a vital part of the mission of Open G Records, and as such youll meet and become fans of great artists as we put together projects from beginning to end. I want to break down the wall between performer and audience, allowing both to invest in each other in new, deep, and meaningful ways. I mean, really, the gulf between people sitting on stage in tuxedos and the audience sitting in uncomfortable chairs for a couple of hours is enormous, and I want to do away with it. A big part of that will be bringing the artists directly to the audience, through podcast interviews, live Q & A sessions, livestreams of rehearsals and recording sessions, and as many other ways as we can think of.

Recently, there have been articles and books proclaiming the death of classical music. They arent far off. Its been choking itself off for the better part of a hundred years. Open G Records isnt trying to save classical music. Thats too big of a job. Rather, we want to envision it in a new way, to reimagine tradition, to create new ideas wherein musicians and the people who love what they do create art together, and do so in new and meaningful ways. I hope the idea is as exciting to you as it is to me, and I hope youll want to join us in making something great. 

Losing My Religion

It wasn’t until I left religion behind completely that I was able to save myself.

When you a child and are told by literally every adult you know and trust that something is true, you believe it. I believed it. I don’t believe it now. And it often hurts like I lost a member of my family.

I think my father probably believes that he failed my brother and me somehow - that the fact that we both rejected religion outright in our adulthood is his failure as an example. As a point of fact, his own religious awakening came from a personal experience, something he and other people I love and respect count as part of faith – a “you know it when you experience it” kind of thing. I had the opposite conversion. My enlightenment, though, has been a slow one, one where it occasionally dawns on me that religion is complete horseshit and how it crippled me emotionally and intellectually for the first 40 years of my life. My brother feels our parents made the gravest mistake you can make when raising religious children: they taught us to think for ourselves. And when I am able to step outside of it and really, truly leave it behind the clarity rushes on so hard that I literally have to catch my breath.

From as early as I can remember through high school I went to church pretty much every Sunday (and some Wednesdays, Fridays, holidays...you get the idea). After a while you pretty much get the gist of what they’re going to say to you. Honestly, it’s pretty limited subject matter. I mean once you get past “we praise you” and “you saved me even though I’m totally worthless and don’t deserve it” you’ve pretty much run out. I usually entertained myself by reading whatever I could find interesting in the pew bible, most often the book of Revelation, which was by far the most interesting book to me. I was endlessly fascinated by how fucked up the language was, and I sat wondering how I would recognize the anti-christ or would I miss the signs leading to Armageddon. I understood that the imagery itself wasn’t literal. Still, that’s some wicked scary shit. The bible doesn’t really deliver on the fire-and-brimstone porn that drives the modern Christian idea of hell. I guess we can pretty much thank Dante and Milton for most of that, helped in this age by evangelists and such. It’s more interesting, I guess, than talking about helping poor people and loving each other.

Several times over the course of my teenage years I was herded into a sanctuary or a tent with other Christian kids and lectured (usually with a super-sweet video production) on the evils of rock music. I really can’t believe adults talked to kids like that now. Stuff like satanic messages recorded backward, the name of the band KISS meaning “Kids in Satan’s Service”. Showing the demons on heavy metal albums and telling us it will all lead us to hell. Also, John Lennon is evil. Pretty scary stuff for a 13-year-old. And I bought it, because why wouldn’t I? It was all I knew and so I believed it. It amazes me that people, adult people, think this stuff is real enough to drill it into children. It’s so silly and stupid and just so childish. And guess what? I discovered all of that music in my adolescent and adult life, and most of it is awesome. The direct contrast between the words I had heard and the music I experienced was just another brick in the wall.

When I left my parents’ house and got to college, I still attended church a bit, especially since my long-time girlfriend (who had gone to Indiana with me) was quite evangelical, and devotedly so. After a while this stopped working for me, mostly because I hate waking up in the morning. Like, with a fiery passion. Also, the church I attended was roughly familiar for me, with lots of college students and young couples as well as a pretty conservative bent. One particular morning the pastor really got on the college students, how if we were having sex with each other we were defiling ourselves, and more to the point, our partners. And this wasn’t some old guy, this was a pretty young pastor who had seemed fairly cool up until that point. It was a harrowing half hour, especially when I looked over at my girlfriend and saw that her face was ashen. I knew it had really gotten to her, and it had. It was the kind of moment when you just go “oh, shit, I’m going to be dealing with this for the rest of the day”, and I did. Obviously we had been having sex. I was a 20-year-old college sophomore and I had been with my girlfriend since the end of my sophomore year of high school (true story). I loved her. We had a long-term exclusive relationship and we had gone to college together with the intention of staying together (LOL!). At any rate, why was that so fucking wrong? Why do I have to be scolded for doing what comes the most naturally of all with someone I truly care about and am in a committed, exclusive relationship with? That was probably the moment where it started, sitting on a wooden bench outside of my apartment with mascara running down my girlfriend’s face and me thinking “fuck roughly all of this”. And in my heart I believed I was writing a ticket to hell.

 

See, it’s not like I just stopped believing all of it. I rejected it, but in my heart I believed that I was going to pay dearly for doing so. For me, it was and is a bit like Huckleberry Finn, out on the river with Jim. Everyone Huck had ever known had told him it was a mortal sin to hide a slave, that to help Jim escape his life of bondage was an evil act, and one that would doom him to an eternity in the fiery put of hell. And he believed it. At one point, Huck writes a letter to confess and turn in his friend Jim, as he thought he must. It comes time to send the letter:

It was a close place. I took it up, and held it in my hand. I was a trembling, because I'd got to decide, forever, betwixt two things, and I knowed it. I studied a minute, sort of holding my breath, and then says to myself: “All right, then, I'll go to hell”—and tore it up.

I cannot read that without feeling my heart squeeze a bit in my chest. “All right, then, I’ll go to hell”. When I walked away from what I’d basically always believed it felt just like that.

And so I spent my 20s and 30s wrestling with this, really hurting and feeling lied to. And still believing somewhere inside that I was really still going to hell. Angry about all of it. I would look at devout Christians, most of whom aren’t a whole lot of fun, and with whom I probably wouldn’t hang out, and say “I’m supposed to look forward to eternity with YOU people? No thanks”. I still railed at the unfairness of the idea itself: these people get to have joy and bliss forever and I get to suffer? For what? Am I really that bad? Am I rotten? Am I not worth it? Then, one evening early on in my relationship with Rachel, we were watching TV and something came on about hell. I mentioned that I still sometimes really worried that I would spend an awfully long time there. After a silent beat or so, I realized that she was looking at me. She stared at me for a second and said, “you know that’s not real, right?”. I paused a moment, sighed, and said “I hope not”. She laughed. Then she said, “oh, they got you good, boy. They really got you good”. And suddenly I realized that I was not really afraid so much, like I had been waiting for someone to give me permission to finally put that down.

Anyway, that’s where I am. I can’t pretend that I don’t miss the idea of being safe, that someone out there loves me completely and in the end everything is going to be OK. But that is childish shit. Everything is not going to be OK. But you have a brief moment to experience the world before you’re gone and you should take advantage of it. This is what you’re going to get. And it’s proving to be good enough, especially if you don’t wait for the promised land you won’t even be conscious to miss. I don’t help people because a book told me to. I am not a moral person because I expect a reward for it. There is real purity in that. My mind is not stained by the idea that I and other people are doomed for being born. And I am free.

I got saved by not being saved.

My Dog Shits in Crosswalks

My dog shits in crosswalks. Well, to be honest, Fanny is not actually technically my dog. Fanny is a pug, half of a matched pair which belonged to my wife for 13 years before she met me. The other pug is Felix, who is pretty much the dumbest pug on the planet (for real – he loses his train of thought while pooping). Felix, though, as completely unable to learn as he is, knows enough to not shit in the crosswalk. Not our girl Fanny, who will circle and poop with great glee and purpose smack in the direct middle of the crosswalk as the DO NOT WALK hand angrily blinks red, cabs and dump trucks creeping eagerly forward in the expectation of the green light. I wonder where else she might decide to take a shit: on the deck of an aircraft carrier? On the Jersey Turnpike? During a walk on hot coals? I can only sense her demented pleasure as I scramble for the doody-bag in my pocket and scoop the poop up, flinging the pugs into my arms in one motion, and make for the safety of the corner while I cringe in expectation of the car horns. Nobody ever honks at me, but I never stop believing they will. I have, therefore, adopted a strategy. I will never, ever, ever start across a crosswalk unless I see the little WALK guy light up with my own eyes. This proves to me that I can outsmart a 13-year-old dog.

So fuck her. I win.

* Fanny and Felix died in 2013. R.I.P., guys.