What it Means to be an Accompanist

My second semester as a collaborative pianist at Montclair State University is finally coming to a close, and, as it does, I wanted to take some time and reflect about what the qualities that I think a good accompanist should possess.

First off, I am simply amazed at the quality of the collaborative artists here. They are top-notch, and they carry a ton of responsibility. Between 15 collaborative pianists, we manage to cover lessons, classes, practicums (the equivalent of an ASU “area recital”), juries, and recitals for about 350 students. Needless to say, we’re busy people.

However, I will be vocal and say that the school has a few unfortunate setbacks. Due to the layout of the university and the rapid amount of growth within the music school, none of the pianists have their own office. We will frequently work on Boston upright pianos that are grossly out of tune, broken, and unresponsive. The faculty members sometimes will teach from these instruments. The pianists are constantly running around to try and accommodate for as many students as possible. Often, music can be provided in an untimely fashion (or not at all), rendering pianists helpless if they don’t know the repertoire for the type of student they’re accompanying. Only so much research and background knowledge can assist with these problems before a pianist cannot do more without music in the correct key and correct style.

It can be very frustrating to have to try and perform in a professional manner under the circumstances; thankfully for collaborative pianists, I can say with certainty that all of us are used to it by now. We all have repertoire that we know backwards and forwards in many different keys (for example, I’ve had to play many double bass pieces in as many as three different keys for different performers). As much as I don’t want our seeming “incompetency” of sight-reading cut-off/lightly-copied/tablature songs to seem like a weakness, it can come across that way when students aren’t well-prepared to present clean copies of music in a timely fashion.

Sometimes, these situations can make it difficult to gratify oneself as being an “artist”. Personally, I find it challenging to play musically when I’m trying to decode what looks, to me, like another language.

There are times, though, when I’m proud to say that I have a sensitivity for music that can hold everything together in a performance like glue. As pianists, I think a lot of us are used to being able to cover (or “save”) performers, sometimes without them even realizing their mistakes. We have to adapt to the tendencies of individual performers; from my personal experience, solo artists don’t usually think they have to adapt to the pianist. We have to see how they attack/release pitches, know if they tend to go sharp or flat, understand where they’re most likely to make mistakes (and figure out how to cover/cue for them in those instances), and anticipate their artistry. All of that is what goes on in a pianist’s brain, BEFORE even looking at music! We strive to stay alongside the performer through every note, while, at the same time, staying fully-prepared for anything to go wrong. It’s like walking on pins and needles.

Maybe others will disagree with me, but I call myself an “accompanist” instead of a “collaborative pianist” for these very reasons. Often, I find myself so much more attuned to the performer I’m trying to keep in check that I can belittle my own contributions to a performance. After all, if a vocalist should skip a line and move on to another phrase, who looks silly to an audience member? The singer, who kept right on going…or the accompanist, who, if he/she can’t find the singer, is lost? In lessons, whose artistry is perfected by a specific teacher? Whose name is bigger on the program? Who takes the final bow?

I think that being an accompanist at any level, for anybody, deserves quite a bit more thanks than it’s been known to receive. Not only do accompanists have to deal with the threat of a performance collapsing, but they’re responsible for knowing other artists inside and out (and for being able to make split decisions). Often, they’re forced to work in less-than-ideal conditions – transposing songs on the fly, making up introductions and conclusions, finding cuts, providing extra cues – just so the solo artist can glow in the spotlight. Most of all, we have to be entirely confident in our own ability to make beautiful music. It has to be automatic, but in the style that’s demanded from individual performers. If you can’t follow somebody well, your reputation is at stake. And in a place like New York City, word about your performance quality can travel FAST.

It’s important to stay sharp and keep skills refined. All of them. For me, this includes classical/jazz hanon, improv, sight-reading (a MUST), transposition, orchestra score reduction, and – perhaps even more important than all of these – keeping cool. There are GOING to be situations where pianists feel merciless and out of control, and there are GOING to be things that all performers do that drive us nuts. But I can’t stress enough how vital of a skill it is to be able to handle these problems with grace and sensitivity; to give a kind (but fair) offer of encouragement as to how the collaborative experience can be more enjoyable for all parties in the future; and to joke about it later in the bar, when you’re not under a watchful eye.

And somehow, we all end up doing the best we can…while preparing to be a musical version of Superman, swooping in to clean up messes before people even realize they occur. Thankfully for me, I’m right where I want to be. I’ve never wanted the spotlight – I think it comes with too many expectations and too much pressure. Besides, I kind of enjoy thinking of myself as a Clark Kent. It gives me pride to know that I can lurk behind the scenes of danger and keep everybody cool and happy. I think that’s what allows musicians to be so expressive in performance. The more I can free somebody to be one with their artistry, communicating music’s message to an audience, the more they can relax and enjoy the beauty of what they’re creating. And that’s what music’s all about, right?

I’m trying to work as hard as I can to make my own performance flaws less noticeable, and to make my ability stretch far beyond the notes on the page. The sooner I can make my expression automatic, my sight-reading laser-sharp, my improv skills impeccably crisp…the sooner I’ll have a real shot at being a coveted musician out here!

With that, it’s back to the practice rooms. Even though MSU’s semester technically ends today, I still have three recitals to play this weekend! The life of an accompanist…

Stephen

Mad Dash

After taking a month in between posts, I’m sure I’ve caused quite a bit of unrest among (semi-)regular followers of my adventures. I assume that this has led to questions and rumors, such as this:

“I heard that New York City went completely powerless for a month due to a huge tropical storm!”

…And this:

“Stephen’s decided that, now that he’s “rich and famous”, he’s never going to talk to anyone ever again.”

…And this:

“Did you hear that Stephen Schermitzler hasn’t posted because he got ATTACKED BY A BEAR?!?!”

Let me just put an end to the rumor mill right now: NONE OF THESE ARE TRUE. Not even close.

So if I’m not nursing bear wounds, what have I been doing?

Glad you asked.

To put it lightly, I’ve been pretty busy lately. In fact, I just got through a week where I worked over 50 hours (twice the norm for me at this stage!), including 3 12-hour days and a 15-hour day! It’s been mostly the same jazz as usual, but instead of being underworked, I’m taking on all of the work that anybody will hand me.

The vast majority of the colleagues at Montclair State University know me now. I recently performed at a “voice night” where I got to meet some of the other collaborative pianists (who are amazingly talented!) and many other voice students. By chance, I met a particular pianist who plays for the entire brass studio of 60 people, PLUS opera scenes and other important voice classes/auditions, who has offered to give me some of his extra work. I’ve even played some incoming freshman auditions for Montclair’s theatre department!

It feels great to truly feel like part of a community again. I’ve been living in New York for almost a year now (can you believe it??), and outside of church, I haven’t felt like I belonged anywhere until just this past month. Instead of dealing with this in the normal, social way, I turned into an introvert. This is way more typical of my style, but I think that, this time, it happened for a couple of reasons:

First, New York City is intimidating. Don’t believe me? Come visit and look out your hotel window. Sure as you’re born, something you see will scare the living daylights out of you. Unless, of course, you’re lucky enough to be in a hotel right next to a puppy store.

When I moved, I left everything I knew behind, forced to open my heart to an exotic and dangerous world before I really had a chance to trust it. Since that can be really foolish, I’ve been cautious through the process, assuring myself that the city’s possibilities would unfold after I became somebody that I knew could succeed here. This belief has resulted in somebody shy, but focused – somebody waiting to make their skills laser-sharp and open them to the right people in the right moment. I embrace this kind of lifestyle. After all, when nobody knows you or trusts you, your words won’t carry any weight. To gain credibility, you must first act in a way that earns respect from peers and mentors. Make them come to you. To do this, I’ve found that I have to stick to what I know. I try to learn as much as I can in as short of a time span as possible, but in the meantime, I use what skills I’ve obtained to make similar connections to what I know. I think it’s only natural, but it’s perhaps one of the most important lessons I’ve learned here. Take safe chances, but be yourself; it IS good enough…and the humility earned in the process will only ensure future confidence.

Secondly, I had to go forward with blind faith. It’s important to become a little more reserved if you’re driven to great things. I knew that the one thing I didn’t want to do when I moved here was to get caught up in distraction – and believe me, there’s a lot of it! I convinced myself that if I could find a way to stay focused on one thing at a time, knowing that the right connections and opportunities would present themselves when the time was right, I was confident that I could gain a lot of self-respect without going through any embarrassing situations. And, for the most part, I think I’ve been able to avoid potential embarrassment. That’s not to say that coming into my own in New York hasn’t been a long, arduous process. And it’s not to say that I learned things faster on my own; I didn’t. But the important thing is that, through all of my discoveries, I’ve been able to bloom in the city MY WAY. I haven’t had to compromise for anybody, and I haven’t had to put my career on the back burner while I’ve done it. Eventually, all of the other glitz and glamour will come.

And now, sure enough…it’s taken 10 months, but finally, doors are starting to open. My name is starting to get passed around some fun little circles. I’ve met some new friends on a whim and joined some networks where I feel valued. And most importantly, I’m starting to come into my own. My own life as a bonafide New Yorker. It feels like I’ve reached the first “safe camp” on my way up Mount Everest. I’m not even close to seeing the peak yet, but I can look out over the countryside and be proud in what I’ve already achieved. And believe me, the view looks beautiful from up here.

But now, there’s so much more to accomplish before I head back to Phoenix in May. I still have 4 recitals to play, about 25 juries to play, and countless lessons and practice hours before life begins to settle down (hopefully, for the last time!). In the meantime, I am going to leave you, dear reader, uninformed. Coming up is a 10-part story on a “catch-up” of where I’ve been over the last two months. Here’s just a little teaser:

Artificial Intelligence: Stephen’s rise to technological dominance in 2012

All You Need Is Love: Visits from close friends and family, and city tour pictures!

Parody with the Manhattan School of Music, and other inspiring moments

The Pursuit Continues: What is the current status of Project: Broadway?

Compose Yourself – my renewed dedication to songwriting (and what I’ve learned along the journey)

The Thank-You Entry

AND: Another blog entry with a bunch of updated musical theatre director/actor links & helpful information!

 

I finally have my brand spankin’-new laptop, so I’m able to post to the blog from coffee shops and in the lobby of Montclair State’s music building! More posts are coming, so stay tuned…in the meantime, I’m truly looking forward to coming home for a month! If you’re interested in meeting up with me, find me on Facebook and let’s schedule some reunion time!

Stephen

 

Pit Life

About a month ago, I was having a conversation with Judy after a long evening of teaching students from Buenos Aires. We were both dead tired, so we decided to go to a diner and unwind (side note: I can check “take a Broadway star out to dinner” off my list of to-do’s!). While there, we started discussing the possibilities of what I wanted to do with my career. Immediately, being a music director came to the front of my mind.

“You know what?”, Judy said. “I’m gonna connect you with Jeff, who is a great friend of mine. Jeff is currently MD-ing Sister Act and was the lead keyboardist for Chicago for many years. He’s a top-notch guy and a class act, and you need to speak with him about your career.”

YES, please! It’s amazing what having a friend in this city can do for one’s self-esteem. Judy went home and immediately sent Jeff an email, and not even a week later, I found myself invited to the pit of Sister Act to watch the keyboards and the MD work! Apparently, Broadway shows have guests and subs in their pits all the time looking over their shoulders, so this was nothing new for them…but still! I was thrilled to have a rare chance to look at the inner workings of Broadway.

I arrived at the theatre 20 minutes before showtime (as ordered) and was given a visitor’s badge. I was pointed downstairs down a narrow staircase and past multiple walls of lockers and dressing rooms. Costumers and make-up artists were walking past me, making their final preparations. I met up with Jeff, put my winter wear in a locker, and scurried into the pit. There, I met Steven and Paul – both extraordinary keyboardists and accomplished musicians, and my companions for the afternoon.

Both players were subs for that afternoon’s matinee performance, and Paul’s day was just getting started (after the matinee of Sister Act, he did the evening performance of the Carrie revival off-Broadway). They were both extremely receptive and professional, answering all of my questions in stride during the performance and never missing a cue.

I learned a lot from the experience, but here are some of the key points:

1. Broadway musicians don’t carry around any of their own equipment. It’s all set up for them. For Sister Act, they used Phantom keyboards and a program called Kontakt, which takes care of their music programming. Some musicians were also using an iPad app called ForScore, which can take/store PDF files and make turning pages a thing of the past (with your hands, anyway…).

2. Sounds for the show’s keyboard parts are first written down by an orchestrator, then given to a sound engineer who will go through programs/the internet and actually SELECT the proper sounds for the patches. After that process, the engineer will hand those patches to a music programmer, who inputs everything into a program (either Mainstage or Kontakt), puts the sounds in chronological order, and marks where the patches need to be changed in the score. From there, the music goes to the performer, who must learn to change patches and control volumes for all of the sounds he/she is handed. The patches are switched via foot pedal, and volume is controlled with another foot pedal (sort of like the volume pedal on an organ). For Sister Act, the volume range was on a scale of 0-120. Patches like Tubular Bells would have a set volume (v80, for example), and would be programmed to decay. String patches, on the other hand, will say something like Cello v74, for example, but the performer will have to know how to make the volume level rise and fall with natural string tendencies! It’s fascinating stuff.

3. Keyboardists are given their instrument, a small monitor in front of them which is connected to a camera positioned directly in front of the MD, another monitor to the side which shows the performance on stage, and their laptop with Kontakt/Mainstage. They use the laptop to follow along with what patches they’re using, what their sounds are, what their volume level is, and when the next patch switch is.

4. All keyboardists have headphones on so they can better hear what they’re playing (and how it stacks up to the rest of the orchestra). They can take them off in between songs.

5. Pit players have a fair amount of down time. Most performers were checking facebook, email, or even doing things like Sudoku and other crosswords in their down time. I imagine that, by now, they know the show like the back of their hand, so they know how long their breaks are in between numbers.

Jeff certainly looked like he was in his element directing the show. His eyes just lit up and his gestures were brilliantly exclaimed. It reminded me that being a music director is so much more than just “conducting”, but that the performance is the ultimate reward for all the behind-the-scenes work. Jeff had the look on his face like he was relishing the enjoyment of his finished product, which is important. The vibe he gives off to his actors/players sets the energy level for the entire production. There’s a lot to think about. Shows are living, breathing entities, after all. Perhaps there wasn’t a better way to find that statement any more evident than sitting in the corner of the pit and taking it all in.

Afterwards, I got to talk with Jeff a little bit, and I’m hoping for some more time with him in the near future (even though he’s an incredibly busy guy). One day, I hope to be just as busy and just as happy, though. His life seems incredibly full.

Onward and upward,

Stephen

Project: Broadway

For those who don’t know, I decided to try and make a living in musical theatre in 2009, when I started to fall madly in love with Broadway. I remember the moment vividly…

It was August, and I was in the middle of a week-long trip to New York City to try and find out about local graduate programs in conducting. I was staying with Maddy, a good friend of mine from my Detour days. Maddy lived on the upper west side, a little less than half an hour from midtown. Thankfully, it was summer, and Maddy and I were a little more free to enjoy our time. I was just grateful to have a place to stay in the city.

Most of all, though, I’m grateful for a day we found ourselves with too much time on our hands…

EARLY one morning, we woke up and trudged out of bed and onto the subway to get in line for tickets to Next to Normal (now one of my favorite shows to date). I remember bursting with excitement at 4:45 in the morning, literally skipping with Maddy through an eerily-deserted Times Square.  Picture in your mind all of the lights, glitz, and glamour of the middle of NYC, and then strip it of the people and the noise. I couldn’t believe that it was almost silent. Shouldn’t the lightbulbs be making noise?, I pondered to myself. That was when I found out that, if only for 15 minutes a day, New York City actually does sleep.

We ran hastily to the Booth Theatre at 45th street, found our spot in line, and waited patiently over the seven grueling hours for the box office to open at noon. Why did we have to wake up so early? Student rush, of course – where the tickets ran for $28 if you were lucky enough to be one of the first 22 students in line. At the time, Next to Normal was the hot ticket on Broadway, so we knew we had to act fast. Thankfully, on that day, it was quick enough.

The faithful in line were treated to donuts by one of the show’s stars (Alice Ripley), but other than that, the time dragged. By 10:00, I was aching for a nap! I think Maddy and I may have slept on each other at some point. I’ll have to go back through the photo archives and see…

The box office did FINALLY open at noon, and after wasting no time in getting a ticket, Maddy turned to me and said, “We have to RUN.”

“Where?”, I answered. I’m gonna wait in line for 7+ hours to get a ticket to a show, and you’re going to expect my legs to work?

“To the Richard Rogers!”, she exclaimed. “The In the Heights lottery is happening now!! If we hurry, we can still get tickets!” Quickly, I realized I’d just have to suck it up. A chance to watch another professional show? And two in one day? How could I turn that down?

Running as fast as we could, we made it to the Richard Rogers Theatre with just a few minutes to spare and entered our names. At that point, I had no idea what a Broadway show lottery was, or how difficult it was to get tickets to In the Heights. I just trusted that Maddy knew what she was doing and that I was going to see two shows for the day.

Fortunately for me and my ignorance, my name was drawn third for a pair of tickets to see the In the Heights matinee on that Sunday. Front row, center! I couldn’t believe our luck.

It was at that afternoon’s performance where I realized that I was sitting five feet from the place I knew I belonged. The number was 96,000, the big show-stopping song in the first act of In the Heights. I was overwhelmed by the tangible effect of the effort of the performers. From up close, it seemed like they were tumbling just for me; I watched the sweat drip off their foreheads and saw the spit fly over my head and into the 3rd row. And right then and there, I knew. These people were giving maximum effort into their passion every day. They got to work with other people who are just as driven and naturally-talented as they are. The music was alive and the performance was vibrant in a way I’d never felt before. These artists were living color in a world that so delights itself in shades of grey. And best of all, I watched unabashedly as pure joy emanated from their faces.

Immediately, I broke down and started to weep tears of joy. I knew I had to get to that level one day. I had to breathe that rarefied air and be set free from the dirge I wallowed in. That same day, I bought the score and brought it home with me – and from that trip forward, I devoted myself to theatre.

Project: Broadway is the name I’ve given this conquest. It consists of any materials I can acquire, any knowledge I can obtain, or any skills I can muster that will help me on my way. The goal is to stop at nothing until I feel adequately prepared to succeed and thrive in this business. I’ve spent the better part of two full years trying to accrue various resources to help my vision expand into its entirety, and I still feel like I’ve only touched the tip of the iceberg.

Currently, the state of Project: Broadway stands at numerous PDF files of piano-conductor scores, hours of professional soundtracks, countless flashcards of every original show that’s debuted on Broadway (1980-present, but I’m working back to the 1920s), an Oxford encyclopedia, songwriting books, lyrical analyses by Broadway’s great composers, homemade CDs, transcriptions, arrangements, playbills, and dozens of folders of sheet music. The next wave of the project will include more equipment (hopefully a Macbook with Mainstage, Kontakt, and other music programming tools), more flashcards, and a way to transfer the PDF files straight to a music stand to practice digitally. More on this later…

I’m hoping that all of these resources at least DOUBLE in the next two years. The trick (at least, for me) is to always be learning and to never be satisfied. Eventually, I will know enough to consider myself a Broadway enthusiast. But, until then, I’m happy to keep the hunger burning inside me, stopping at nothing to know ALL of the music, memorize ALL of the “who’s who” in Broadway history, and bring that knowledge to life in productions of my own. The big break will come – but the moments that truly define us are what happens in between the successes. This is that time for me, and as long as I’ve got time on my hands…Project: Broadway will continue to thrive.

Call me crazy, but that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. Nobody said the road was easy, and I certainly don’t expect it to be – but I’m NOT going to make it any harder for myself than it needs to be. Being successful is about being in the right place at the right time…but more than that, it’s about being confident in your own abilities to be able to make something happen when you’re called upon. That’s the dream.

Strive.

Stephen

 

Vision

I try to treat every day I wake up to in the same manner: if there is no clarity, no focus, no intent – then whatever vision I thought I had in mind for myself becomes lost. This mindset applies to short-term goals of the day and long-term goals for my career (whatever that will become…). Finding oneself only happens through persistence and an unrelenting vigor. If I wake up without it, I might as well mark the entire day down as being wasted.

Going through the motions comprises so little of how we become who we are. If we ignore the soul, then what are we spending our lives catering to? It’s paramount that we strip away all of the blinders that we put on ourselves to live/act/think “normally” and search for the core of our desires. Getting to know the “why” is my journey – and although I secretly hope I’ll never find it (because that mindset will keep me looking), I hope that I immerse myself in many situations that, ultimately, confirm I’m on the right track.

The first piece of advice that I grabbed onto in 2012 was that you can’t have a good year without stringing together many good days first.

I’ve always had problems seeing the steps between myself and a long-term goal. To help, what I’ve done this year is tell myself that there are no long-term goals. Goals are only wishes with a deadline, after all. Take some of mine, for example:

Goal: Become as knowledgeable as I possibly can about every show that has graced a Broadway stage.

Goal: Become fluent in style on the piano – improvisation, popular licks, form, command, learning how to “be an orchestra” in every way, etc., and overcome a sense of “pitch-perfectness” that keeps me from being artistic.

Goal: Become a songwriter and write a musical (or two, or three…)

It won’t do me any good to take a look at this list now, though (even comprising it made me sigh a little!). Although it’s imperative for me to become these things to achieve my version of success, I can’t dream of accomplishing any of those things today. And yet, every day that I live should have resolve to improve myself in all of these areas, or I’m not giving myself a chance to succeed.

Only through everyday dedication should I find, years down the road, that I’ve already hit these marks and surpassed them.

Think to yourself: this year is only two months old. Those resolutions you made on New Year’s Eve? Although you may think they’re already “broken”, you still have 10 months out of the year to make them what you want, and the brand new life that you only think you can dream of is still plenty attainable. It starts the day you want it to.

Comprise your “vision year” for yourself out of vision days, and stay focused. You might be surprised at how much you can actually learn…

Buenos Aires on Broadway

It’s been a long couple of weeks in between posts, but I can say that I’ve had two weeks in a row where I’ve worked all seven days! That’s a wonderful milestone for me as I continue to keep myself busy and focused towards becoming a musical theatre director.

So, if I’ve been so busy, what have I been up to??

I’ve been the accompanist for a two-week intensive called Buenos Aires on Broadway! This is a course for independent Argentinian students here in New York City, where they come and stay in hostels and learn from a panel of six wonderful musicians/actors/coaches. It’s all part of an organization that Judy founded: Sing Smart, Act Smart (SSAS for short). The actors came to learn about acting, diction, vocal production, technique, improvisation, and performance skills. It was quite a lot of work for the young adults involved – not only did they have to sing songs in English, but they had to take direction and criticisms from a panel that ONLY spoke English. Just being able to stay willing to learn in a foreign environment is difficult enough, but then they had to rehearse on their own while figuring out their own living situations in this city! It was a truly remarkable achievement for them, and it was a privilege accompanying them while they learned.

I can’t say enough about the workshop process. The students were warm, receptive, and incredibly gracious for every word we spoke. And sometimes, the coachings were not easy…

I remember one class in particular, when a girl came up to sing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” After singing it through once pretty plainly, one of the panelists (Kathy) spoke to her about how there must be an incredibly emotional and individual connection established within the singer. She then asked the student to come up with her own personal story of a family situation that she felt she would overcome, get away from, and find freedom from. The student picked her parents’ divorce and talked about the struggles of independently trying to raise brothers and sisters with the hope that things will get better. She talked about how it impacted her views of family, relationships, marriage, etc. And then Kathy said, “Now sing us your story to the tune of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” Without hesitation, this student sang (in rhythm and perfectly in tune) and MADE UP WORDS to her own family situation, replacing them with the famous lyrics. The result was deeply impactful. Immediately, she began to cry; tears streamed down her face as she tried to piece together her inner strength. It began to affect the entire room – I played in amazement, Kathy’s eyes were glued to the scene, and all of the other Argentinian students were in complete awe – and at the end of the song, Kathy and I both marveled at this young girl’s talent to transform her story into meaning that instantly touched all of our hearts. We tried the exercise with other students, and the same thing happened. In astonishment, Kathy and I looked at each other and immediately knew what the other person was thinking. What talent, what deep personal stories, and what stage presence and poise. It was one of those “why I live for theatre” moments.

The intensive finished at the Bowery Poetry Club in Midtown Manhattan, and the students gave a culminating performance of their work with the panelists, friends, and family to watch (pictures coming!). The show was even put on U-Stream for other folks in Argentina! Many performances were so elevated in quality from the work we had first seen that all of us panelists became greatly inspired. We had gone through so much hardship to teach them subtle diction differences (“v” instead of “b”, “zz” instead of “ss”, etc.), acting strengths, and vocal technique that we all just let out a huge sigh of accomplishment. And it’s not over for these young people: as soon as they get back to Argentina, they’re going to have a lot of work to do. But they were so thrilled at the experience – imagine living in a place where you don’t audition with live accompanists and you work with tracks…and coming to this: Broadway and the pinnacle of American Musical Theatre at your fingertips. It was certainly a lot of information to digest, but I hope they use it to their advantage!

And now, on to bigger and better things, I hope! I’ll be writing about what my vision is for this year in the next entry, so stay tuned…

Stephen

Subway Poem

The Times Square subway stop is MASSIVE. 42nd and Broadway connects the 1, 2, 3, N, Q, R, A, C, E, and 7 trains, also giving access to the shuttle to Grand Central Station and the Port Authority Bus Terminal.

…Do I sound like a train announcement yet?

But in between the chaos, connecting the 40th street and 42nd street stations, is a huge underground passageway. I walk it every time I go into Jersey for work because it connects the N/Q to the bus terminal. The passageway is big enough that it essentially creates an eight-lane pedestrian highway. Often, you’ll see street performers, “Jesus freaks”, and the homeless parading through the walkway, along with the slow-walking tourists and speed-walking locals. Huge commercial advertisements line one side of the passageway, and newspapers are constantly being strewn about (despite the warnings not to, as someone could slip and fall and cause an interstate pile-up!). In this tunnel, everybody looks straight ahead and walks forward. If there’s any noise going, it permeates the entire corridor. The whole thing serves as a huge metaphor for the hustle & bustle of the City, as well as the tangible isolation felt from being a small dot in a large crowd.

To cap the metaphor, on the ceiling traveling from the Port Authority Bus Terminal side to the 42nd street side, there are a series of planks with messages. I don’t know how they got there, or who managed to fit them into the metal overhangs that line the top of the passageway, but they’re bolted down strong. About every 15 paces or so, you can see a new plank with a different message, all two or three words, in gigantic, capital letters. According to Google, this string of messages is referred to as the “Subway Poem” (image search it and you’ll see what I’m talking about). Apparently, the poem, written by Normal Colp, was only supposed to stay up for a year, but never got taken down. It reads as follows:

“OVERSLEPT,

SO TIRED.

IF LATE,

GET FIRED.

WHY BOTHER?

WHY THE PAIN?

JUST GO HOME,

DO IT AGAIN.” 

I hate that I have to walk through that tunnel every day and see those words, but I’m pretty sure they will always be there. Is this the subconscious mantra of every New Yorker?, I wonder. I can understand that, with all of the walking and commuting everywhere, the daily routine can seem like a dirge. But still, what a negative twist!

I thought that living here was something that people wanted, not resented. To me, this is the type of message that promotes alcoholism. It’s no wonder the city can feel so lifeless at times; if everybody walks around keeping to themselves, mired in their work, they’re not talking to anybody. The only things they have to think about are based on what they see. Then, they travel through this tunnel and are faced with that bolded message every day? I wouldn’t be surprised if the Subway Poem has been subliminally branded into the minds of every little worker ant in this city. It’s disparaging, and I’ve made a resolve that it’s not going to infect my brain…yet, I’ve tried to put a positive spin on the poem, and can’t.

Then, I saw this:

http://www.galleristny.com/2011/11/good-grief-optimists-with-healthy-outlook-on-life-destroy-bleak-poem-by-making-it-positive/

Apparently, last year, an optimist (and I assume one of the few remaining in this town) thought to change the poem by adding some new words over the pre-existing planks. The changed poem read:

“OVEREXCITED,

ENERGIZED.

IF LATE,

GET FIRED.

WHY BOTHER?

MUCH TO GAIN.

JUST GO HOME,

DO IT AGAIN.”

Genius. That’ll show those pessimistic “realists” who prefer to wallow in their own discontent!

If it wasn’t such a subway staple, I bet the new, uplifting poem would have stayed up. But instead, the police and the naysayers ruined the fun, quickly tearing down the addendum and restoring us all to our proper misery. And today, the poem stays glued to the rafters, forever serving as a haunting reminder that we cannot escape our own pickled ambition.

Ugh. New Yorkers.

I’m happy it’s there, though. Maybe to some, the poem has already been engraved in their heads as something they can never overcome. To me, it serves as a motivator to never get caught up in that mindset. Once I do, I instantly become one of “them” – a settler. And there is no way that, amid all this potential and all of this opportunity, I’m going to get wrapped up in the negative. No, thank you.

So every time I leave that tunnel, I think of myself being ripped free from a chamber of ScoobyDoo-esque cobwebs. It is a new day, a new life, and a new opportunity – and I refuse to let it go stale.

Shine on.

Stephen

Finding Church Jobs

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been looking for church positions in New York and New Jersey within a 2-hour transportation ride of the City. Despite my efforts, nothing has surfaced yet – but I HAVE come up with a few tips on where to look and how to search. First, here are some websites:

1. www.churchmusicjobs.com

This website is great because you can search for jobs within a radius of where you live. Also, if I include keywords like “music”, “worship”, or “director”, each search will come up with jobs that are basically equivalent, but use different wordings. It’s always good to be thorough with synonyms when checking for jobs. You might find something that is mislabeled, but actually has a lot of value in what you’re searching for. This particular site is national as well.

2. www.churchjobs.net

I like this website because it categorizes the job types in a column on the left-hand side of the page. You’re free to search by keyword and by state (it’s another national source, although it doesn’t give as direct of a proximity as website #1), but you’re also free to click the type of work you’re interested in and see what comes up. Some of the jobs are labeled “premium”, meaning you have to sign up with the service to actually apply for those jobs. New accounts are free, but it does pay to post one of your own “premium résumés”. The full list doesn’t look quite as updated as website #1, but there’s still plenty of work to be had if you look hard enough. In particular, the position descriptions are in great detail.

3. www.worshipjobs.com

Although this website is almost directly connected with www.churchjobs.net, it has a page specifically for worship jobs within the country. If a high-profile job opens up, you’ll find it here. If you browse long enough, you’ll get a good feel of what type of work to expect between denominations, and what kind of pay scale is appropriate for the type of work you enjoy.

There are many more websites out there to explore, but those are the ones I’ve had success with so far.

In addition, there is an eHow article about finding church jobs. It’s relatively straightforward, and is about what you’d expect: http://www.ehow.com/how_7698353_church-jobs-new-york-state.html

Most churches in the northeast seem to want an organist more than they want a pianist. This is likely due to the fact that there are many cathedrals and older churches here that have established organs. Choirs are used to singing with organs, and congregations are used to hearing preludes/postludes/hymns on them as well. That’s not to say that, if you are only a pianist, you won’t be considered for a music minister position. In fact, the only differences between an organ and a piano are the sounds (and the manuals used to create them), the volume pedal, and the foot pedals. The stops are easy to understand and fun to play around with. It’s important to understand how the stop numbers correspond to octaves (16 will sound an octave below, 8 sounds exactly where it is, 4 sounds one octave up, and 2 sounds two octaves up), and how to mix woodwind, string, and brass sounds to create the texture you’re looking for from choral music to prelude/postlude. Basically, that’s it; other than stops and pedals, an organ is just a series of keyboards. Many organists begin as pianists, and, with time, as they pick up skills by practicing weekly in the sanctuary, they begin to incorporate their knowledge into constructing legitimate organ sounds. Personally, I’ve had the opportunity to play around with an Allen digital organ for a few years now. Although I’m certainly no expert, I can “fake” my way through a service so that congregations don’t know the difference between me and an actual organist. I’ll still need to take organ lessons before I’ll get fully comfortable, but for the time being, I fully endorse the “fake it ’til you make it” principle. It works for everything, and a little confidence can go a long way.

Practicing in the sanctuary leads me to another avenue for finding church jobs: asking a church leader to practice in their sanctuary on a weekly basis. I’ve heard that struggling artists can find extra time to practice during the week in churches (does anybody have any personal experience with this?). Apparently, all it takes is a heart-to-heart talk with the music director, and, possibly, being open to assist during a service every once in a while. From there, a pianist can obtain a key to the building and begin to practice, which could lead to a multitude of opportunities. Perhaps the music director will be floored by the practice and know somebody who is looking for a music director. The church could even need help directly! The key is to get a foot in the door and be as warm and humble as possible. I know I’ve got a couple churches in my area, so it’s time to start knocking on doors…

Every job search is a struggle, and nothing comes easy. It’s important to have patience and persistence, along with the feeling of hope that the right job is just around the corner!

One day, one step, one moment at a time.

Stephen

 

 

Jersey Boy…(s)

Every experience in New York that I’m offered seems to come with an extra dose of humility. It’s precisely what an aspiring NYC musician needs to stay focused, so I’m grateful for the opportunities that I’m presented…and I hope to never take this time in my life for granted.

Still – let me show you what I’m talking about:

As a pianist, I know most gigs will be irregular and infrequent. That’s something I’m used to by now. But everything I do here comes with an added element of complication that makes me take a step back and realize that there is a long way to go before I can be considered a class musician. For example, I’ll play for a singer who gives me handwritten music or needs something transposed down a major third, and my brain can’t stay on pace quickly enough. I’ll get a great opportunity in Manhattan or New Jersey, but the commute time will kill me. I’ll be asked to make a recording that I can’t fully prepare for because of my housing situation (or the noise pollution outside). I’ll want to sing as loud as I can in my apartment, but I’ll hear banging on the ceiling above me – clearly my annoyed upstairs neighbor – to knock it off.

Humility abounds; every little exception is a constant reminder that I’m here, but limited – an incredibly small fish in a seemingly-infinite pond.

That being said, I have started my professional career in New Jersey, officially working as a collaborative pianist at Montclair State University. The university is in Upper Montclair, about a 25-minute bus ride from 42nd street, in a beautifully lush area. I walk by a cemetery when I get off the bus, and proceed over a small hill. The top point of the hill is where the University begins, and as I walk down the other side, I’m graced with such a beautiful, scenic view of trees and the hidden jewels of houses nestled amongst the foliage. This fall, it was the perfect hue of sunset yellows, oranges, reds, and pinks.

All of it is a breathtaking backdrop to this university, which stands layered in the hilltops. The music building, in particular, is a work of art from the outside. Inside, the concert halls and recital spaces have been redone to look majestic (Google Image Search the John J. Cali School of Music and see pictures; you’ll understand what I’m talking about!). Upon first glance, you’d think…who wouldn’t want to study here?

MSU is the only public university in New Jersey that offers music courses (or so I’ve been told), so the music building has a very respectable number of students roaming its halls. The vast majority of the faculty are adjuncts, but they’re all incredibly nice people, most of whom still live in the City and commute to campus. The talent level of some of the students there is absolutely tremendous, and I’m honored to be among their company.

I play about 15 lessons per week there now. When I started, I only had 6 students per week, but have since been able to add the double bass department and some other vocalists to my schedule. The double bass players won’t get an accompanist until after spring break sometime; in fact, the only students who need accompanists on a regular basis are vocalists. The same might be true for other universities around the tri-state area, but I have yet to explore that yet…

The lessons are such a fun experience! One double bass professor, in particular, has such an amazing sense of humor. Every time he cracks a huge musical joke with a totally straight face, I laugh hysterically. His last name is Brown, so naturally, I call his jokes “Brownies.” He seems so casual, yet conveys a great aura of respect and musicality to his students. In my mind, that’s exactly what a professor should do.

I’ll write more about my days as a Jersey Boy as the semester progresses. Currently, I’m trying to supplement my income by finding a church job. Readers, STAY TUNED: There will be some important job information for all aspiring north-easterners in the next post!

Stephen

New York, Round Two!

Hello again, internet-savvy blog readers!

I’ve been away for six weeks because I’ve been back in Arizona taking some time to relax and re-energize for ROUND TWO of New York living! Here’s what’s been happening since my last entry:

1. I finished playing for juries at my new job: collaborative pianist at Montclair State University in New Jersey (more on this later)! In November, I began playing for six vocal students, and ended up playing juries for 16 people – almost triple my original productivity in six weeks! I am currently establishing the final details for work this semester…

**A word to the wise: don’t EVER reschedule plane flights, ESPECIALLY AROUND THE HOLIDAYS!! I had to change my departure flight to Phoenix to a week later than it originally was (thanks, juries). My changed flight of one direction cost me more than my round-trip tickets did!**

2. Christmas break was spent in Phoenix, and Christmas Day was spent completely relaxing with family. I don’t usually get the opportunity to spend the entire day at home, but I was lucky this year! For the first time EVER, I woke up before any of the other kids (I’m the oldest of five), had a calming breakfast, and didn’t have anybody screaming in my face about how it was time to open presents. What luxury! We then spent Christmas day as any normal family would: having a wonderful home-cooked meal together and playing games/making jokes with each other. Pure holiday bliss.

3. I stayed around Arizona until January 16th on break. Now…you might say, “Wow, Stephen! That’s a long time to be in Arizona with nothing to do!” And you’d be right. Fortunately for me, I DID have other things to do; most importantly, to play piano for Detour Company Theatre’s productions of “Into the Woods” (Jr.) and “Some of Our Best”, a medley of songs from shows they had performed over the past 10 years.

If you don’t know anything about Detour Theater Company, I highly encourage you to check out the link on my www.flavors.me/sschermi webpage, or go to www.Detourcompanytheatre.org for more information. Detour is a non-profit organization that puts on theatrical productions starring the adult mentally/physically handicapped. I use the term “handicapped” only because it’s a surface-level descriptor; truly, there is nothing that this group of fine actors is incapable of, and I consider it a tremendous honor to be their musical director.

Performing Into the Woods is about as challenging as musical theater gets when you strip it to its core – entrances/exits, timing of notes/rhythms, unclear melodies, characters upon characters, props galore – and Detour tackled all of these challenges with a youthful exuberance. We basically put together all of the music for the show in just two weeks: from the first music rehearsal (Dec. 22) to the first performance (Jan. 6). Sondheim writes music that would be extremely difficult for even the most professional of productions to pull off in a couple of weeks, so I’m extremely proud of the cast, coaches, and crew. There are pictures up on the website; I consider them to be daily reminders of how our sky is limitless if we pay no attention to expectation.

And with that, I return to New York City to continue on my journey. Certainly, there is a lot left to accomplish, and I hope to take you with me much more in-depth this time to explore some of the inner circles of Broadway, Manhattan, and life as a freelance musician in the great Northeast.

As Sondheim once wrote, “Merrily we roll along, roll along…catching at dreams.”

Stephen