tag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:/blogs/rick-s-random-musingsRick's Random Musings2023-12-22T17:35:32-05:00Rick Gottliebfalsetag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119862018-03-02T08:55:00-05:002023-12-10T13:43:08-05:00There and Back Again: An Emerging Artist Goes SouthIt’s been a very long time since my last blog post and for those that had followed my blogs in the past I apologize for the passage of time . No, I did <b><i>not</i></b> fall of the edge of the earth. But recently, a number of things have happened in my musical life that I felt were worth sharing with you all.<br><h4>How it All Started</h4><div>In November of 2017, I attended NERFA (the North Eastern Regional Folk Alliance Conference) in Stamford, Connecticut and had the opportunity to appear in a number of guerilla showcases. As anyone who has spent any time with me when I’m not busy with other matters, I am a habitual “noodler” on the guitar. If, as the old saying goes, that “idle hands are the devil’s workshop”, then Old Nick would have no interest in me whatsoever. To this end, when I was making the rounds at NERFA, my old friend Alan Rowoth and his crew were setting up their cameras so that they could “live stream” on Facebook and needed someone to point their cameras and mics at so that they could do a detailed video and sound check. So, I just set myself down and began playing as happy as you please, unaware that they were actually recording me and uploading the video.</div><div><br></div><div>As it happened, another friend of Alan’s, Diane Perry from New Jersey, was looking through her Facebook feed and caught sight of my errant improvisation without a care in the world. Diane, a Juilliard-trained violinist, vocalist and jazz artist had an opening for a guitarist. Diane then called me and asked if I would review her music and see if I would be able to learn her music sufficient to be able to perform the same before an audience (the first major performance would be before <b style="font-style: italic;">her </b>home crowd in less than 60 days). So I listened to her music. Some of it was original others were arrangements of Great American Songbook standards. </div><div><br></div><div>And they were excellent but <b><i>very</i></b> complicated (highly chromatic) pieces of music. But I like a musical challenge and this was definitely a challenge. And Diane was willing to “share the stage” so that she would accompany me on my music so that it would be closer to a “co-bill” rather than me being strictly an “accompanist”. But for me the real issue was the fact that until that point in time I was predominantly a <b><i>solo</i></b> artist; Playing as a duo would mean rapidly developing skills that I generally only used in a recording studio of tempo maintenance (rather than playing rubato) and playing only a portion of the orchestration of a song (such as only the bass line of a “funk” tune) and playing much slower than I would ordinarily play a tune if I were arranging it myself. But I am nothing if not willing to extend myself into an area never tried before. </div><div><br></div><div>So, I agreed and we began “practicing” with each other via FaceTime and in person over the following weeks. </div><h4>Practice Time</h4><div>Practicing with my new musical partner was difficult for me mostly because Diane and I come from completely opposite musical traditions. As a Juilliard-trained musician, Diane comes from a predominantly “sight-trained” tradition that emphasizes following a melody line in standard musical notation. I was predominantly “ear-trained” listening for and “deconstructing” a song’s harmonic musical and chordal structure then “reconstructing” it for guitar (using the alternate voicing used in a DADGAD tuning). </div><div><br></div><div>Also, the investment of time “practicing” became an issue as well. As a primarily classical, sight-trained musician, Diane was well-used to spending multiple hours at a time going over music in almost painful detail, including chordal harmony, rhythm, tempo, and dynamics. I am much more used to learning a songs chordal structure or arrangement <b><i>before</i></b> moving on to other aspects of a specific tune. And Diane is willing to “practice” for hours at a time whereas I “practice” intermittently at best. Also, I tend to take some level of “musical license” while maintaining the basic integrity of the song as written when arranging a song I haven’t written myself. So the differences in our musical backgrounds and practice habits, preparing for the tour was a GREAT deal of work. </div><h4>Opening Night at the Minstrel Stage in Morristown, New Jersey</h4><div>After nearly two months of “practice”, the date of the first gig with Diane approached at her “home venue”, the Folk Project’s Minstrel Stage in Morristown, NJ. For me, I looked forward to actually performing. When you perform, you are required to let go of your internal expectations and “go with the flow”. This worked out well for Diane and I since there was no stopping to make corrections. And it was truly excellent, indeed! More than that our interactions on stage were fluid and maintained audience interest and attention. The time just flowed by on stage and a great time was had by all. Oh, yes and money was made as well!</div><div><br></div><div>
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</div><h4>And Thus, the Tour Began . . . </h4><div>You really don’t know a person until you travel with them in a confined space. Diane and I had good discussions while we drove south but it was tiring and, occasionally, confusing as to direction. Anyway, we made our way south after performing at a nursing home in New Jersey to a waypoint in Raleigh, North Carolina. Rather than spending money on hotels, Diane was able to get us lodgings at private residences of friends and venue hosts. We drove on to just south of Asheville, North Carolina to give a house concert. We expected 8-10 people; We got between 20-30 people! Who knew?! A video of part of the House concert is below:</div><div><br></div><div>
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</div><div><br></div><div>From just south of Asheville, NC, we drove down to LaGrange, Georgia, about and hour south-southwest of Atlanta for the “anchor” of our tour at the Pure Life Studio. I must say that this venue was one of the best I’ve ever visited, beside having a true “Green Room”, the walls from floor to ceiling of the main hall were covered with acoustic guitars of every kind and description, with the names and signatures of those that had performed their previously. As a fingerstyle guitarist, I could not have felt more welcome and “at home”. The sound check went like clockwork, with an excellent sound system. Diane and I greeted approximately a hundred guests in the main hall and we spent the next two plus hours enjoying ourselves performing. A video of my cover of Livingston Taylor’s tune, “I Must Be Doing Something Right” at the Pure Life Studio is below:</div><div><br></div><div>
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</div><div><br></div><div>It was simply a joyful experience for everyone involved. And I would do it again, despite the challenges involved. </div><div><br></div><h4>Lessons Learned</h4><div>I learned a number of “lessons” from the experience of long-distance touring as part of a duo:</div><div><br></div><div>First, in order to be “successful”, when you consider becoming part of a group, whether a duo, trio or greater, you should bring musical skills that contrast and “fill in” the recesses of the other partners in the endeavor. For example, the musical backgrounds of Diane and I could not have been more different. She was classically trained at Juilliard to play violin and has perfect pitch, allowing her to sight read standard notation sheet music better than I can. Although I received an excellent musical education both early in life and at college, I am generally self-taught on the guitar but generally have a better ear for chord changes and harmonic structure than Diane in songwriting. Importantly, I can improvise and anticipate chord changes “on the fly” without reference to sheet music based on the musical structure I hear. As a result, our strengths fill in for each other’s musical weaknesses.</div><div><br></div><div>Second, each person in the group needs to compromise so as to “strike a balance” on matters of both personality and music in order to be successful. Diane and I have very different personalities. But in order to have a “successful” musical touring relationship, each of us must be willing to compromise on the way in which we do things. I have had to remember to “play nice with others” when performing as a duo with Diane, so that we both can produce a musical experience for our audience whose “whole” is synergistically “greater than the sum of it’s parts”.</div><div><br></div><div>Third, time and distance are implacable realities on tour. It was, <i><b>by far</b>, </i>much harder on both of us traveling from venue to venue than it was actually performing on stage. “Road fatigue” is a very real consideration and sufficient time to get from place to place is extremely important so that you aren’t forced to perform while you are exhausted, or worse, made ill. Therefore, it seems to me that it is imperative to cluster a series of gigs in a general route of travel both coming and going from your start point.</div><h4>Conclusions</h4><div>For me, doing “long-distance” gigging was a genuine learning experience. I had always believed that musical artists would not be able to “draw” outside their own well-trod stomping grounds. But what I learned is that the fact that you come from a place relatively far away creates a certain “novelty” that allows you to draw larger numbers that you would otherwise expect. I believe (this is my theory) that the essential part of making a successful foray into a new area is to try and use “house concerts” and “listening rooms” that have a more intimate setting. Because of the expectation of intimate surroundings by the audience, people are much more likely to attend because it creates an aura of “specialness” if you will. </div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD,</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119872014-11-10T09:03:00-05:002023-12-22T17:35:32-05:00"Getting Ready" for NERFACome November 13th, a HUGE 4-day, 3-night musical event/seminar/party will commence in the sleepy hamlet of Kerhonson, New York, just outside the Catskills. It is the annual conference of the North Eastern Regional Folk Alliance or NERFA. Officially, NERFA consists of a series of juried showcases of new and not-so-new musical artists that play within the broad spectrum of the genre of "folk music", running the gamut from singer/songwriters to americana to roiots to blues and beyond. Additionally, there are a series of seminars given by touring musicians, venue owners, booking agents and the like to provide some updates to education the education of all attending. <div><br></div><div>But, by far, the most exciting part of the event/seminar/party called NERFA are the "guerilla showcases" in which 50 or so presenters will set up unofficial showcases of artists playting individually or as "songwriters in the round" in groups of 3 or 4 in the hotel rooms of the resort. It is a non-stop musical party that goes on nearly all night long. Getting a "good night's sleep" is decidedly NOT the point of the exercise. For 4 days, this is the place where emerging or emerged artists meet with presenters, venue owners and booking agents to mingle, share, network and, perhaps, if you're lucky, pick up a gig or two for the following year. With more than 800 people attending, it is the place to "see and be seen", pitch your best music, make new friends, meet old friends, learn something new and, network, network, network!</div><div><br></div><div>Because of the quasi-commercial aspect of NERFA, it is always important to have business cards, blurb sheets, performance schedules and CD's, so that you can entice your "audience" to see you perform. So it's important to get your materials together and get as much sleep <b><i>before</i></b> you arrive as possible (cause you won't be doing much while you're there). Indeed, I've often said that for the emerging artist, NERFA is probably the most fun you can have being sleep deprived! One imnportant aspect of the guerilla showcases is that because they take place in hotel rooms of the resort all going on roughly simultaneously, none of them (with the possible exception of keyboardists) use any form of amplification. It's just you and (most times) your guitar playing and performing strictly acoustically. Add to this the carpeted flooring, soft hotel furniture, along with sound-absorbing bodies, the average acoustics you can expect inb the guerilla showcases tends to be on the dead side, to say the least. Therefore, expect that you will have to make up for the lack of "room reverb" with strong vocal and instrumental performances. </div><div><br></div><div>This is the 5th or 6th time I've been to NERFA (I lose count after a while), but the sheer energy and vibe of the place can be downright electrifying., To all my friends who will be ateending NERFA this year, I look forward to embracing you, your energy and your music; we're gonna have a hell of a time. For those of you new to NERFA, this is the place to meet, greet, make new friends, share your music, and learn a lot. Yes, NERFA may seem commercial on the surface, but down deep, its all about the family of musicians and you can consider yourself an adopted member when youi arrive!</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.,</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD,</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119882014-09-26T08:51:00-04:002023-12-22T17:35:32-05:00The "Why" of Being an Emerging ArtistIt's been a while since I last posted on this Blog and I've taken this pause in my writing to think a good deal about the "why" of performance for emerging artists such as myself. I believe that I may have reached something of a "crossroad" in my "musical performance career", such as it is. Increasingly now, I go to open mikes to showcase my talent for the purpose of networking and getting paying gigs to perform. I think, just <i>think</i>, mind you, that I may be starting to have something of a break-through of sorts. Does this mean I am going to give up my "day job" and start touring throughout the country? I think not quite yet. But I think I'm finally reaching a point where that goal may not seem quite so unachievable that it is not worth contemplating.<div><br></div><div>Last week, I was the opening act for the Joe Davies Folk Festival at the Soule Homestead in Middleborough, Massachusetts. The day's artists included emerging artists such as myself as well as headliners like Amy Speace. Amy is one of my favorite touring artists and certainly one of the most hardworking that I've ever encountered. Just <i>looking</i> through her touring schedule on her web site can be exhausting; actually living it must be more so. But, nonetheless, she and Ellis Delaney are the artists that I use as a standard by which to "measure" my own progress. And that's a good thing. But I'm not like them just yet. Which raises the question of why go to the tiring physical exercise of performing as an artist. Why drive yourself so?</div><div><br></div><div>For my good friend and mentor, Ellis Delaney, the answer comes down to the personal decision to make a difference in the world, one song at a time. Indeed, she's gone to the effort of developing and committing to paper a literal "mission statement" for it. <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And I think she's on to something there. Why expend all the effort (and it is very considerable) to go from place to place, gig to gig, criss-crossing the country (and other countries as well) to perform? The question is one that I increasingly ask myself as I contemplate their lifestyle and mentally "try it on".</span>
</div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I have to believe that although it is tiring, it must also be addictively exhilarating. To see new places, new people, to make new friends, to reach new audiences with music that they've not heard before and "connect" with them is very exciting indeed! But is that really all there is to it? The visceral pleasure of an appreciative audience and nothing more? Or, in the words of David Wilcox's song, "Sex and Music": "Do you want them to 'come' when you sing?" </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As I have developed as a performing songwriter, while I really, really like it when people show their appreciation of my music and performance by applauding, I've received something more when I mingle with audience members afterwards and they tell me how and, more importantly for me, <b><i>why</i></b> they were moved or connected with one or more of my songs. Sometimes the stories that audience members have related to me about how I stirred a memory or an emotion that they thought they forgot (or even suppressed) have given me a better insight into the real importance of live music in people's lives. We performers are more than poets cobbling togther pretty words that occasionally rhyme; rather, we are, at our best, the provokers of memory in those that listen to us. The relaters of emotion that are common to all of us. We are the assurance to our audiences that they, as individuals, are not alone in an increasingly chaotic and sometimes unfair world. We write the anthems that people adopt like an indelible tattoo on their hearts. This, to me, is the answer to "why" be a performing songwriter. On to the next gig!</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Food for thought.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Yours in DADGAD</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Rick Gottlieb</span></div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119892014-03-21T08:53:00-04:002023-12-10T11:53:27-05:00A Tale of Two GigsAs an emerging artist, I try to participate in an open mike night in a different place each week. As it happened, I went to an Open Mike last wednesday and had a scheduled "gig" at the Starbucks at Harvard Square the next day on Thursday. The contrast was remarkable and proved something of an object lesson for me. On Wednesday, I decided to go to an advertised open mike night at the Fitzwilliam Inn in Fitzwilliam, New Hampshire. I chose venue this because it was seeminglu run by a friend of mine, Hal Pederson and I thought it would be nice to see him again.<div><br></div><div>I got to the Fitzwilliam Inn about a half hour before the scheduled start of the open mike (early is the new "on time" for me) and the staff showed me to the "Pizza Room" where they have their own wood-fired oven to bake pizzas (and I presume other foods as well) a la Bertucci's style. Wonderful and cozy. As the first one there, I decided to take out my Taylor 12-fret and warm up by playing an instrumental from my second CD, "Sedona Sunrise". The staff member there was apparently so impressed with my warm up, he immediately asked if I would continue playing in the lounge area where more people were gathered. Since there was plenty of time left, I though, sure, why not? I merely brought my guitar and capoes with me, sat down next to a table and began playing another instrumental, which I had been working on. The reaction was amazing to me. The patrons began applauding my instrumental and one put out a glass for me and put a ten spot in it. What I had had expected to be an Open Mike (turns out the Open mike was every other week seemingly), turned into a paying gig with the owners asking that I please, please come back and they would pay me my normal gig rate and another patron indicated that they would be hiring me for a private party. At the end of the night an hour and a half later, I had made $33 and sold a CD to the owner and gotten two (2) committments for paying gigs in the future. All with no set up and no amplification. Just me an my guitar playing acoustically like in a NERFA guerilla showcase. It was a great night all round. Who knew?</div><div><br></div><div>The next night, I was sceduled to play the Starbucks located in Harvard Square in Cambridge, MA. I had to pay for parking and brought my basic amplication rig, which includes a Fishman Soloamp, microphone, stands, cables, preamp and stomp boxes, CD display case, my own tiki tip jar and my trusty Martin OM-28V guitar. A heavy load, but I could manage it single-handed in a single trip from the car. I set up my rig and immediately got to it in a second floor loft filled with more than 100 people. But even though there were a much larger number of people, they were all seemingly absorbed in their laptops, ipads, tablets and drinks. One person paid enough attention to lightly clap (I guess he didn't want to be seen as "disturbing the virtual peace" of the area) at the end of my first song. The entire niht went like that. Got a single tip, no CD sales and very little attention for an hour's worth of my time performing. <sigh>.</div><div><br></div><div>Serendipity is a funny thing. And life has lessons to offer if we're willing to pay attention. I think the big lesson to be learned is that the emerging artist must <i style="font-weight: bold;">always</i> be "prepared for happenstance". In the case of my impromptu "gig" at the Fitzwilliam Inn, I "happened" to have a few CD's, a physical (as opposed to electronic) press kit, and music business cards with me. It made all the difference. If you are "open" to the possibilities of a situation, with a little luck (Okay, a lot of luck), you can make that situation into a paying gig and have a great time doing it. Conversely, just because you schedule a performance as a "gig", doesn't mean that circumstance won't thwart you, if the audience is there for other purposes like at the Starbucks. In the final analysis, I believe that it was the "intimacy" of the Inn and sheer size of the 2nd floor of the Starbucks that determined the outcomes in each case. If the room you're playing in is so large, the loss of immediacy or intimacy with the performer is lost and the performance becomes little better than background noise. In fact, I think it was the <i style="font-weight: bold;">lack</i> of an amplification rig that helped me be the success I felt I was at the Inn.</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD!</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119902014-03-14T09:12:00-04:002023-12-10T11:32:45-05:00The Importance of "Outward-Looking" Focus for the Emerging ArtistI suppose there are whole books dedicated to the title of this blog posting. But I had an insight about this issue when I performed at an open mike that I had never previously attended. So, I felt it was good fodder for a blog posting today. The open mike in question was Cafe Arpeggio located in New Bedford, Massachusetts. This is an open mike that apparently has been around a good, long time and the host was very good at his job. I went to this particular open mike because I'll be doing a gig in nearby Fall River, Massachusetts tomorrow night and wanted to "promote" the gig. And the host, when he annouced me, did me the courtesy of annoucing my upcoming gig.<div><br></div><div>I always start my set by loudly saying "Hi there! My name is Rick Gottlieb and I'm from Hopkinton, Massachusetts." I then immediately launch into one of my most "uptempo" tunes. I do this because I want to immediately grab my audience's attention and have them associate it with my name and place. The idea, I think, is to be <i style="font-weight: bold;">memorable</i> to your audience. </div><div><br></div><div>The performer before me was a young man of 12 who had been on the local cable access channel and played classical guitar beautifully. But he did not "engage" his audience, but rather focused his attention on his sheet music on his guitar stand and on his hands. He was very, very good, and played fluidly. But it was really more like a "recital" than a "performance" because his <i style="font-weight: bold;">focus</i> was inward-looking towards himself rather than outward-looking towards his audience. I think this is the most critical part of the "inner game" of performance: to have your focus firmly outward-looking with your audience. By "outward-looking", I mean things like the following:</div><div><br></div><div>1. <i style="font-weight: bold;">Not</i> using a music stand to read your music while performing. There should be as little as possible between you and the audience. To me, a song is ready to be "performed" when you can play it without written materials. Forgetting some words is better than putting an obstacle between you and the people. 'nuf said.</div><div><br></div><div>2. Set the microphone <i style="font-weight: bold;">below</i> you and point it upwards towards your mouth so that the audience can see your face fully. If possible, set the mike stand to one side so the boom is coming in from beside you. Same reason as number 1 above.</div><div><br></div><div>3. Look audience members in the eye! Make eye contact! You're there to "connect" with folks afterall.</div><div><br></div><div>4. Resist the temptation to close your eyes or look at your hands while you perform. Fixate your gaze outward towards the back of the room.</div><div><br></div><div>5. Performing music is a little like theatre. If the song lyrics talk about the sky, look up as if you were looking at the sky. Be the song!</div><div><br></div><div>6. Make the finish of the song definite so the audience instinctively knows that it's time to applaud; Don't be wishy-washy about it or the audience will be tentative.</div><div><br></div><div>7. Wait until they <i style="font-weight: bold;">actually</i> applaud to acknowledge and thank the audience for listening to you. It looks silly otherwise. </div><div><br></div><div>8. Smile. This is <i style="font-weight: bold;">supposed to be fun!</i> Looking like you are enjoying yourself makes the audience feel that they are enjoying themselves too!</div><div><br></div><div>9. Always end with your most "memorable" song, preferably an uptempo one. Leave 'em with a bang!</div><div><br></div><div>10. Stick around after your performance to mingle with the audience! One of life's great pleasures for me is having someone come up to me after a performance to meet me one on one to tell me what a great time they had listening to me. Don't pass up the opportunity for the small indulgence of a "post-performance" ego boost.</div><div><br></div><div>I think that in a world that is increasingly becoming "virtual" with people spending inordinate amounts of time on YouTube, Facebook and Twitter, the live acoustic performer serves a great societal need to interact with people on a personal level. Now more than ever, the emerging artist performing live serves a real, genuine need for people to connect at a more human level. Being focused outwardly when you perform helps fulfill this need.</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD.</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119912014-02-26T18:06:00-05:002023-12-10T11:32:57-05:00"I Came, They Saw, I Conquered"I'm sure there are literally thousands of different ways to get a gig these days. Much of it depends on the genre, the kind of audience sought and many other variables. I've tried the "Internet" method of looking for gigs on SonicBids.com or on Craigslist, with inconsistent results. However, I have had particular success with a strategy that I call, "I came, they saw, I conquered". I really like to play coffeehouses, particularly those with an Open Mic night. And it should come as no surprise that most venues and presenters like to actually see a prospective artist perform in real life before booking them for a paying gig. So, rather than sending in a physical or electronic press kit, cold calling or reaching out by email, I tend to go to the open mic night for a venue that I'd like to play. I did that last week in Providence, RI when I showed up at the "Mediator Stage". I even showed up a little late but was able to make the sign up list. I've found that it's important <i style="font-weight: bold;">not </i>to actually perform too early in the list, so that you can better distinguish yourself from the other performers that might have less stage experience.<div><br></div><div>I treated my short 3-song set as though it was a full 45-minute performance, focusing on my vocal dynamics and trying to reach the audience with my music as best I could. To say the least, I got an overwhelming positive reaction, which was very gratifying. Immediately after my set, the venue booker had me booked as a feature there on April 3rd. It was a great night and the cookies were great too! This technique is useful in more ways than one. By distinguishing yourself at an Open Mic, you become part of the venue's "regular crowd", showing that you're not so "high and mighty" to be able to hobnob with the locals and making it more likely that the same "regular crowd" will be there for your full performance gig. </div><div><br></div><div>I find that the strategy works best also at venues where you have not been seen at before because people tend to pay even more attention to listening to the "new guy". If you're able to make yourself into "stand out" performer, there is just that much more impetus for the venue's booking agent to take you seriously and increase your chances of getting a gig. Now, I'm sure there are people that will say that the success of this kind of strategy depends on the quality of your performance as well as a host of other variables. All true. But I can think of nothing more compelling to a venue's booking agent than actually seeing you in <i style="font-weight: bold;">their</i> venue actually doing what you do to entertain an audience. No amount of marketing materials, press quotes and youtube videos can compare with the impact of live performance. Yes, it takes a lot more effort. But, as emerging artists, performing is what we are all about, right?</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD!</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119922014-02-10T09:46:00-05:002023-12-10T11:53:41-05:00Praise, Criticism and the Emerging ArtistI just had a terrific week performing at Open Mikes last week, culminating in my getting three (and possibly four) new gigs at coffeehouses as a featured performer. I tend to use Open Mikes as a method of getting gigs as a featured performer because many times I've found that either the person running the event or a participant will be the booking agent for a venue. But what made the week especially memorable was an email I received from one particular person who apparently was a regular participant at Open Mikes. The excerpt of the email is as follows:<div><br></div><div> "<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Firstly, I have to tell you how overwhelmed I was by your music, in all respects; your guitar, your voice, your songwriting, your stage presence – everything. You’re one of the greatest I’ve ever heard. After hearing you I want to cut off my hands, burn my guitars, and never sing another note. I feel ashamed to call myself a musician, after hearing you. (Am I laying it on too thick?) Really, compared to you I’m just a hack and will be ashamed to play in front of you; no kidding. However, I love music too much to ever stop playing . . . "</span>
</div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I have <i style="font-weight: bold;">never</i> received that kind of effusive praise for my music before. And I was initially at a loss as to how to respond. But I know how the writer felt because I felt the same way about artists and songwriters that I admire and seen perform, including James Taylor, David Wilcox and others as well. So I wrote back how I felt and gave advice that I had received from another performer that I admire, Ellis Delaney:</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> "I barely know what to say. Thank you so much for your praise of me as a musician. The point is that each performer needs to compare themselves not to others but to themselves. I know that I've put a lot of work into my music, so what you see now is as much a product of that work as it is talent. So don't compare yourself to me; Rather compare yourself to where you've been on your own musical journey. That's what is really important."</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">This leads me to thinking about how an emerging artist ought to respond to both praise and criticism. Let's face it. Our music and performance of that music and those of others is looked at in a highly subjective manner. Each of us knows what we like in other artists and what we don't. We each, consciously or not, try to emulate those aspects of our "music heroes" and work to eliminate those aspects of our music and performance skills that we perceive as less than our best. We, unfortunately, will sometimes look for cues as to our "progress" based upon external criteria (i.e. how others perceive us) rather than our own internal sense of where we've been. My friend, Ellis, calls this the "comparing mind", where we evaluate ourselves based upon the skill set of others. And it's something I still have to work hard to avoid.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I once had a chance to speak with Tommy Emmanuel, one of the best fingerstyle guitarists in the world and asked him if he ever played in DADGAD or another alternate tuning. He said no, that he "had a hard enough time learning to play in standard tuning to try and play in another tuning". I was stunned. I got the same reaction from my former performance teacher, Livingston Taylor. Confounding! I could play more confidently than these "music heroes" of mine in my own little "DADGAD world". Whoda thunk it? </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">By the same token, always be cognizant of the source when accepting any criticism of your music or performance skills from anyone, particularly those persons that say they are offering "constructive criticism" so that you can be a "better" musician. The quality of any musical performance and songwriting are inherently subjective in nature. My personal test for useful comments is (a) whether the comment is something objective and within my control versus a subjective quality and (b) whether the comment actually offers a solution to the issue posed by the comment. If the "constructive criticism" fails these two tests, it (and the person who offered it) should be ignored as wasting your time. </span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I think the best person to look for both praise and criticism is someone that you have regular contact with and who has watched you over time to evolve as a musician. For me, that person is my wife, Cheryl. She, like me, was a music major in college and knows when I do well and when I don't. So that when I ask her how I did at a performance she's attended with me, she'll shrug and say, "You did well. You always do well." For me that's truly high praise.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Food for thought.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Yours in DADGAD.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Rick Gottlieb</span></div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119932014-01-16T12:34:00-05:002023-12-10T11:56:09-05:00What an Emerging Artist Should Look for in an "Open Mike"I just came back from performing at an open mike in western Massachusetts, the Luthier's Co-op. Even though it was more than an hour's drive from my home, I feel that it is an Open Mike worth driving to. As an emerging artist, I tend to go to a lot of "Open Mikes" because it allows me to perform regularly and maintain contact with other artists and increase my visability for gigs. Indeed, I've gotten many paying gigs as a result of performing at "Open Mikes". So it's worth the effort. But all "Open Mikes" are <i style="font-weight: bold;">not</i> made equal. Which raises the question, for an emerging artist, what makes for a good "Open Mike"?<div><br></div><div>What follows then are some random considerations and thoughts of mine as to what makes for a worthwhile "Open Mike" experience.</div><div><br></div><div>1. What is the nature of the venue? An Open Mike can occur at a wide variety of venues: Restaurants, Pubs, Coffeehouses, Art Galleries, Music Stores, and Performing Arts Centers and college venues. Most venues can be divided into one of two super-categories: For profit (i.e. business-related) venues and non-profit venues. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Each of them have their pluses and minuses. Business-related venues may have more "foot traffic" and therefore more true "listeners" (as opposed to Open Mike "players") in the audience, but the down-side is that you are there to euphemistically "sell the beer" for the venue. Non-profit venues (particularly those that are dedicated performance venues) are great places to play in terms of sound systems and professional staging. However, many of them require that the performers have to "ante-up" something in order just to play there in order to support the underlying institution.</span>
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">2. How is the venue set up? Obviously, it's the people that attend the Open Mike that make the difference. Open Mikes at bars and taverns can be both good and bad for the emerging artist. Open Mikes where the venue is centered around a "U"-shaped main bar with the audience facing inwards is more likely to attract a primarily "drinking" crowd, whereas a tavern with tables and a stage (even a small one) is more likely to attract "listeners". The emerging artist naturally wants listeners, rather than drikers (who may tend to talk with their friend next to them and treat the artist as background noise). what is the ambient noise level like (HVAC systems, blenders crushing ice, loud appliances, etc.) and is the sound system sufficient to overcome it? A really good open mike will have a relatively low ambient noise level to begin with and a decent sound system.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">3. Does the venue Open Mike night have a "professional"-acting Emcee? Is there a primary point of contact who acts in a professional way. By professional, I mean someone who shows up on time, is courteous to each act, is supportive of each act and helps promote the act by asking you when and where you might be playing next and annouces it to the audience after your set. Also, it is possible that the Emcee will be providing the sound system, so does he know how to use it well?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">4. What is the sound system like? Most (but not all) Open Mikes will have a sound system of varying quality. A good sound system will make a good performer sound great and a bad system will make a great performer sound mediocre. On balance, even with a decent sound system, I will bring a few accessories with me, such as my own DI box (I use an L.R. Baggs Para Acoustic DI) and, if the sound system lacks a reverb capability, my own reverb pedal (I use a small TC Electronics Hall of Fame Reverb). For this reason, <b><i>always</i></b> check out the sound system and come prepared. Remember, if you have low expectations, you will rarely be disappointed.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">5. Is there something that makes the venue unique or special? Luthier's Co-op has vintage guitars, mandolins, and other instruments displayed on every vertical surface of the place up to the ceiling. It has an incredible vibe. The Brooklyn Tea House in Providence, RI and Fritz's Place in Keene, NH have sofas and love seats abounding for comftable listening. The Amazing Things Arts Center in Framingham, MA and The Center for the Arts in Natick, MA are full fledged performance stages with super sound systems. Look for venues that provide something special for the artist.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">6. How is the Open Mike list designed? By this, I mean how many songs or how much time is each act given? Is there a finite number of slots on the sign-up list? Is there a "featured act"? Are there "openers" If so, does the Emcee encourage donations and contributions to them? I think that the most important thing here is one of time. How many songs or time can be devoted to each act. As an emerging artist, you will want as much time on stage as you can handle. Open Mikes that only allow you to play one (1) song because of the high number of participants are generally not worth it because how can an audience <i style="font-weight: bold;">really</i> get to know you and your music in the course of a single song, particularly if you have to "pay to play". </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I'm sure there are other considerations such as the popularity and longevity of the Open Mike as well as the quality of the food or drink, if such is available at the venue. But these are some of the prime considerations I use when selecting an Open Mike venue. And yes, I would drive an hour and a half to participate in a great Open Mike venue, because a great Open Mike can greatly add to your visability as an emerging artist on the rise.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Food for thought</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Yours in DADGAD</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Rick Gottlieb</span></div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119942014-01-02T08:35:00-05:002023-12-10T11:32:46-05:00The Split Gig and Learning to "Play Nice With Others"As many people know who have seen me play, I am primarily a solo artist. For those of you that haven't, it could be said that beside singing, I play all parts of "the band" in a kind of percussive, fingerstyle (i.e. without the use of guitar flat or finger picks) guitar accompaniment. That means my guitar playing necessarily includes percussion, rhythm and lead parts as a back up to my voice. In other words, as a performer and songwriter, I am generally, well, "self-contained" as it were. I rely solely on myself to provide what the song needs. Occasionally, however, when I play as part of an on-stage showcase, I can provide backup rhythm or lead guitar to another artist. It's for this reason that I have had to suppress my regular inclination to be "the entire band" for another person's song. <div><br></div><div>The last gig I played was such a showcase in South Hadley, Massachusetts in the western part of the state at a coffeehouse and wine bar, loaded with bookshelves free for the reading, called the "Thirsty Mind". I was playing with two other acoustic artists, Mike Orlen and Sheryl Stanton, in a "round robin" rotation. It became clear that when one of us were performing, the others (and the audience for well-known covers), were free to join in. I approach "joining in" process somewhat tentatively because I don't want to be seen as "stepping on" another's performance so as to be seen to be "playing nice with others". Before joining in, I will just listen for the first verse and refrain, trying to (a) figure out the general chord structure of the song (e.g. I-IV-ii-V-I) and (b) what accompanying part I can <i style="font-weight: bold;">and should </i>provide. Sometimes, if I know the song, I'll sing in impromptu harmony. Other times, I'll just provide some small fingerstyle embellishment. The important thing to remember as a "supporting" artist is to be selective as to when to come in. In this regard, less is more. By doing so, you don't become a musical distraction and make it clear to the audience that the primary performer is the one in control. It not only shows you're tasteful in your supporting role, it makes it easier to correct yourself if you make a mistake in the music.</div><div><br></div><div>Because I try follow my own advice, I had a simply terrific time at the Thirsty Mind. The audience was friendly and enthusiastic and appreciative. All three of us performers had a great time and no one "stepped on" anyone else's song. If discretion is the better part of valor, then "playing nice with others" is the credo for emerging artists playing in the round. I genuinely felt that the three of us playing together was greater than the sum of the parts playing alone. And this is primarily because each of us tacitly sought to fill a small portion of the song the lead performer was playing. It makes it more fun for the performer and great fun for the audience. What more could an emerging artist ask for?</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-o0peoXGM9Pw/UsVw4bS-X8I/AAAAAAAABgQ/zQC9CRVGvtU/s640/blogger-image-948276681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-o0peoXGM9Pw/UsVw4bS-X8I/AAAAAAAABgQ/zQC9CRVGvtU/s640/blogger-image-948276681.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" /></a></div>
</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119952013-12-25T16:32:00-05:002022-04-21T14:46:13-04:00The Joys and Miseries of Working with a MetronomeI have a "love/hate" relationship with metronomes. There is no doubt that playing alone and preparing to perform using a metronome will make you a better musician by "aligning" your personal tempo with a mechanical/electronic norm. By playing your songs to a metronome, you discover where you speed up or slow down and learn to "realign" your tempo when you go "off beat". it's all a wonderful learning experience, but it doesn't change the reality that the metronome is a "harsh mistress". The "device", as I sometimes call it, is infernal: Just when I reach the emotional climax of the song I'm working on, the "device" decides its a good time to go slower or faster (sometimes it takes on a life of its own). <sigh><div><br></div><div>As you can see I'm conflicted about the little darling. It's helpful, but like most things electronic or mechanical, it has its limitations. it's simply not possible for a metronome to play "rubato" rhythms. The best we can hope for is to come to terms with it (and ourselves). Playing to a metronome is important in one very concrete way: recording. If there's one thing I've learned in doing my studio album, "Waiting For the Train", it is the neccessity of learning to "play nice with others". This means that, unless you are recording a solo performance, where no one else will be overdubbing you, you <i style="font-weight: bold;">must </i>play to a metronome so there will be a "unity" between yourself and other instruments. Otherwise the natural tendency to play "rubato" (with a varying tempo), will make it difficult if not impossible for others to "align" their recorded performances with yours.</div><div><br></div><div>The one piece of advice that I have found that truly helps when working with the infernal device, is not to accept the nature of the pinging sound most basic metronomes produce as gospel. I have found that a more drum-like "boom chuck" sound was most helpful in keeping my time because it sounded the most real. The most important practical thing I am learning in my Digital Audio Workstation application, Logic Pro X, is how to alter the sounds made by the metronome so as to eliminate the annoying and unhelpful "klopfgeist" default setting. I figure if I can find just the right sound, as I did at Wellspring Sound Studio in Acton, MA, for the metronome, the entire recording process will go that much easier and require less editing later. I have yet to find the perfect (for me) metronome sound, but I know its there and I will find it. Until then, I'll keep working on my musical "self-discipline" and carry on!</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD,</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>
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</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119962013-12-17T09:05:00-05:002022-06-01T05:19:39-04:00Guitar Maintenance and Upkeep for the Emerging ArtistOne of the things I am most proud of when I perform are the complements I receive about my acoustic instruments. I recall recently receiving from another artist the comment, "wow, that is one beautiful guitar!" I genuinely appreciate such complements about my guitars because I take good <b><i>and regular</i></b> care of them. So what follows are merely some tips (some obvious,other less so) about keeping a guitar in superb condition:<div><br></div><div>1. Play it. It may seem obvious, but a guitar as a instrument made primarily out of wood (and even carbon fiber to a lesser degree) changes over time. The changes are often subtle so you need to play your instrument and "listen" to it. If strings start to buzz, the neck may need to be adjusted to provide more "relief" (the incremental distance between the strings and the top of the frets) by de-tensioning the truss rod on the guitar. If the strings have less sustain, they may need to be changed. In any event, listen to the instrument, it has a lot to say.</div><div><br></div><div>2. Clean it. Whenever I replace strings, before I put the new ones on, I thoroughly clean the instrument. By cleaning, I mean using a 2-step cleaner and conditioner on the fretboard, using 0000 grade steel wool on the individual frets (I actually now use a small polishing wheel on a dremel tool to clean and polish frets), lubricating each slot on the nut and the string contact point on the saddle and, of course, using some non-silicone based polish on the soundboard, sides, back and neck. </div><div><br></div><div>3. Adjust it. Once or twice per year I'll take my guitars over to my guitar technician to have him properly "set up" the instrument. This is something that I possibly could do myself, but, discretion being the better part of valor, I'd rather have a genuine expert do. By "set up" I mean that the string relief and guitar's "action" (which involves raising or lowering the distance of each individual string to a desired height above the fretboard) are changed or reset based upon the gauge of string and tuning I'm then using. Since I primarily fingerpick, I like my action as low as possible without the strings buzzing on the frets.</div><div><br></div><div>4. Humidify it. Winters are hard on wooden guitars in New England. The use of heat at home tends to dry out the indoor air. There are plenty of guitar humidifiers on the market. I personally like the Oasis humidifiers but most all of them work well. I think the best alternative is just to buy a room humidifier. I got at 5 gallon one at a church yard sale some time ago and just have it run constantly. Which brings up the fact that you need to know what the humidity in the room is. I bought a digital humidity/temperature gauge so I can adjust how much moisture is put into the air by the humidifier. Do it. Your guitar will love you for it!</div><div><br></div><div>5. Protect it. I generally leave my guitars in their cases when I'm not playing them. If I do leave one or two out, I keep them on individual guitar stands. Folks that leave their instruments leaning against a wall or piece of furniture are just begging to pay a guitar repairman. </div><div><br></div><div>6. Improve it. I love to tinker. I generally prefer to customize my own instruments. The first to go are the factory installed tuners. Unlike a custom guitar with high-end tuners, most production instruments have less than desirable tuning machines. In fact, I've replaced the tuners on all of my guitars in favor of more aesthetically pleasing, higher ratio tuning machines to more finely tune the instrument. I have also replaced the plastic bridge pins with brass ( or even titanium!) bridge pins to get a brighter sound with much more sustain. I've also installed John Pearse armrests on each of my instruments lower bout to keep my right forearm off of the soundboard when I play and installed Planet Waves "O-Ports" into the sound hole of many of my guitars to improve sound projection.</div><div><br></div><div>A guitar can be a beautiful thing to see, but really regular maintenance and upkeep not only improves its looks, but can improve the instrument's tone, sustain, playability and character as well. People that play strings black with corrosion are doing themselves no favors to themselves or their instruments. If you really appreciate your guitar, especially as an emerging artist, taking good care of it can mean the difference between sounding okay and sounding great.</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119972013-12-02T08:32:00-05:002022-05-26T06:54:39-04:00For the Emerging Artist, the (Strive for the) Perfect Really is the
Enemy of the ExcellentYou practice your music incessantly. Perhaps you even "role play" your performance in preparation for the real thing. Perhaps you worry about any lapses in memory of your lyrics that you might have. This is the common ailment of "perfectionism" in the emerging artist and we all encounter it and need to combat it on a regular basis. This is not to say that regular "practice" should be avoided or that performance preparation should be eschewed. Far from it. <div><br></div><div>Rather, it is <i style="font-weight: bold;">what</i> we "practice" that should be looked at. Specifically, I find that when watching emerging artists, if they stumble, the likely cause is a failure of focus, namely focusing on "being present in the moment" rather than focusing on "how they appear to look" to the audience. It is <b style="font-style: italic;">self-consciousness </b>that interferes with a performance. When we become self-counscious, we are no longer paying proper attention to either the song we are performing nor, by extension, the audience we are performing for. The internal conversation becomes "self-centered", not "audience-centered".</div><div><br></div><div>Combating this pernicious tendency requires something many people have a hard time doing: subordinating their own ego and simply acting in a way that is as natural as walking down a street. Half the battle is admittedly feeling self-confident enough about your musical technique, whether instrumental, vocal or both, to be able to conduct your performance <i style="font-weight: bold;">without a specific conscious focus on it.</i> It is the quality of being "loose" and relaxed while performing. I think the other half of the equation is simply being "comfortable in your own skin" so that if you do make a musical stumble that would be apparent to you, that you are comfortable enough not to react to it or, if you do react, do so with self-deprecating laughter at yourself. Remember, the audience wants you, as the performer, to "succeed", to seem, for all outward appearances, to really enjoy yourself being on stage. That is the real goal and personal enjoyment and self-consciousness simply don't go together when performing.</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD.</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119982013-11-13T20:13:00-05:002023-12-10T12:15:55-05:00The NERFA Experience and the Emerging ArtistEach November for the last three years I have attended the North East Regional Folk Alliance (or NERFA) Conference in the Catskills of New York. I can honestly say that, as an emerging artist, it is the most fun you can have while being sleep deprived. For those readers of my blog that are not familiar with NERFA, it is a regional subset of the Folk Alliance International. It mission is to get artists, booking agents and venue owner or "presenters" to meet and network, listen to music performed in official and unofficial (called "guerrilla") showcases, and attend workshops on various topics. While a number of artists are selected to perform at official showcases, the vast majority of showcases are the unofficial/ guerrilla variety. This year I appeared for 12 performances in four (I think) guerrilla showcases many of which lasted until 3 am.<div><br></div><div>Granted, NERFA can be viewed as a very commercial endeavor with marketing materials literally strewn about the entire hotel which NERFA takes over for the 4 days that it lasts. Further granted, that the not-so-subtle undercurrent is that artists want to get to invited to perform at the venues and therefore there is a good deal of "artist solicitation" going on throughout the conference. But these realities are more than overshadowed by the incredible camaraderie between the participants. It can be very hard to be an emerging artist. The pay is less than overwhelming, travel can be a lonely and tiring experience, and there is no guaranty of success. </div><div><br></div><div>Perhaps hardest of all for the emerging artist is the isolation and the nagging doubt that can creep into the back of your mind as to your relevance. NERFA is a deep balm to both the isolation and the doubts that can sometimes plague the emerging artist. Indeed, I was taken by surprise when one participant whom I had never met before confronted me with the seriousness reserved for those having a heart attack and told me that my "songwriting was so important and powerful to [him], that [I] should continue doing it no matter what". After recovering from my shock, I was deeply gratified and felt validated in a way that I hadn't realized I had wanted before. Indeed, NERFA is always a moving (albeit exhausting) experience. The communal musical experience is so addictive for me that I'm now seriously considering going to SERFA, the South East Regional Folk Alliance conference in North Carolina in May of 2014. An emerging artist just can't get enough of that kind of feeling.</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD.</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59119992013-10-31T08:52:00-04:002022-05-30T06:27:15-04:00The Importance of Helping Other Emerging ArtistsNo one gets by on their own power. All of our successes can be traced to help we have received from others in one way, shape or form. The outcome of the sixth game of the 2013 World Series proves that point: success <i style="font-weight: bold;">requires </i>teamwork. The beauty of the music from my second CD, Waiting For The Train, is a direct result of my friend and producer, Oen Kennedy, and my friend and engineer at Wellspring Sound, Eric Kilburn. As an emerging artist, I've gotten some of my best gigs from other emerging artists' recommendations. So, as an emerging artist, I feel that I am impelled to "pay it forward" to other emerging artists as well.<div><br></div><div>Recently, I was contacted by a young emerging artist, looking for some assistance with her first full length album as a full-time touring artist. She wanted, among other things, my advice, because, even two years after we had last seen each other at the Rocky Mountain Song School, she remembered me not only as a respectable musician, but also as someone she could trust. I asked her to send me her business plan and what I received was a breakdown of the expenses for creating and duplicating the CD in prose form, without a spreadsheet, and with no marketing plan or profit and loss projection. I wasn't all that surprised. So I spent some time talking with her and spent a morning creating a spreadsheet template for her. By doing this, I was able to refocus her towards the "nuts and bolts" of business: numbers << and the "Greek Choir of Creative People" collectively moans in the background>>. By doing so, she was exercising muscles in her head she likely may not have used before. All this and more for <i>de gratis. </i>She has been very grateful for my help in organizing her thinking on this, her first major recording project. Simultaneously, I've been preparing to play back up guitar for not just one but two emerging artists at this year's NERFA conference, besides performing as a solo act there. My life is a busy, but happy place because of my efforts. </div><div><br></div><div>I genuinely feel honored to be asked to help these emerging artists because I am one myself. It validates who I am and makes me realize that each of us is in this not so much to "compete" with each other in the "arena of music", but to help and lift each other up in a cooperative fashion. Sure, it's nice to "win" a song contest or be included in a "special" showcase of performers, but the real measure of value in the emerging artist community is not how high we lift our heads, but how high we lift up other emerging artists in their own musical journey. Because in as much as "what goes around, comes around", all the good we do to help others comes back to help us as well. <<cue exit music>>.</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120002013-10-25T09:12:00-04:002022-04-21T14:41:55-04:00The Importance of Having Fun as an Emerging ArtistI'm between gigs at the moment. Last night I played at Fritz's Place in Keene, NH and tonight I play a Three-way co-bill with Steve Allain and Ashley Root at the Brooklyn Coffee and Tea House in North Providence, RI. As I sit here writing this entry, I am struck by something one of the audience member said to me after my set. He apparently saw me play before because when he greeted me, he shook my hand and told me that he "always loved watching me perform because he could tell I was having so much fun on stage". And it's true, I do! But why? Why do I find stage performance so enjoyable when some many other people would rather have a root canal without anesthesia than be the sole focus of attention on a stage?<div><br></div><div>I have never really suffered from stage fright although I know many people that do. Part of it is certainly practice: you do something long enough and you become at ease with the activity. But I believe there is more to it than that with stage comfort (the opposite of stage fright). Knowing your material well is certainly important, but everyone makes flubs now and again. I think that the activity has to be, indeed, needs to be, fun for you to be comfortable. I simply love playing guitar and singing. I always have as long as I can remember. Because of this love, the activity, the performance becomes my inner focus. People who are not "stage comfortable", tend to focus on how they <i style="font-weight: bold;">appear</i> to their audience, rather than being present in the moment with their performance. Indeed, it's possible for people who are not "stage comfortable" to be <b><i>too</i></b> inward looking when performing and "shut out" the outside world. So there needs to be a dynamic balance between engaging an audience on the one hand and focusing on your actual performance on the other. </div><div><br></div><div>So I'm really looking forward to tonight's gig at the Brooklyn Coffee and Tea House. I've played there before with the Rhode Island Songwriter's Association and it was simply wonderful. But for me, why people come to see me and my co-bill companions is our collective enjoyment of our activity. Because when we have fun on stage, the audience has fun as well. And isn't that why we emerging artists do this in the first place?</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought. </div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120012013-10-21T08:41:00-04:002022-05-25T02:33:22-04:00The Emerging Artist and the "Learner's Mind"The other evening I went to an open mike in an area that I don't regularly frequent. in fact, I had never been to this open mike before and though there were a few faces I recognized most of the folks there I had never met before. Now, for some emerging artists this might make for an uncomfortable evening. But I don't look at it that way. For me, this is a "learning experience": I learn what to do as a songwriter and performer and what <i style="font-weight: bold;">not </i>to do. It's not about being critical of others, it's about learning what works and what doesn't. One performer asked the audience for a guest to sing a song they had not practiced together to perform it on stage. While I love serendipity, the song, though well known, is a complex one from the stand point of accompaniment and the guitarist was playing it in an altered tuning to boot! The result was both the singer and the guitarist (who asked for this impromptu combination) were struggling with each other and themselves. It was an uncomfortable event to watch.<div><br></div><div>But I learned something from this. It reminded me that one of the most important things a performer can do (indeed, must do) is make the audience feel at ease. I learned this original lesson from Livingston Taylor, whose book "Stage Performance" Ihighly recommend, in his classes on Stage Performance. The lesson learned here is not to intentionally put yourself in a position on stage that will leave you struggling and make the audience feel uncomfortable. Does this mean I don't endorse serendipity in performing? Of course not. But only that you are sufficiently prepared to handle it.</div><div><br></div><div>This leads me to to the idea that the overarching lesson is to maintain a "Learner's Mind" when it comes to watching other performers. Each performance has something to offer if you are sufficiently "open" to see it and understand it. It means figuring out why something a performer does works or doesn't work. This is part of the reason I go to open mikes I haven't been to before and why I am so excited about going to NERFA this year. More than getting possible new gigs or networking with other performers, I really hope to learn from all these other performers, both at the formal workshops and (more importantly) at the showcases. It is by maintaining this open, "Learner's Mind" that I hope to improve my own songwriting and performance skills. The Japanese word for an instructor in karate is "sensei", but the literal translation for the word means "one who has gone before". As emerging artists we should all cultivate the sense that everyone in our world is a sensei is one way or another by maintaining a "Learner's Mind".</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120022013-10-15T09:20:00-04:002022-08-04T03:18:37-04:00Defining "Success" as an Emerging ArtistI've been turning my mind towards the idea of what "success" really means as an emerging artist. Sure it's nice to win songwriting contests (and I know some friends of mine that have), but what does that really mean in the larger sense. Someone liked a particular song you wrote more than other songs that other people wrote. I recently came across a song that probably never won a songwriting award that was first recorded by Chet Atkins, then Tommy Emannuel, called "I Still Can't Say Goodbye". It was was seriously sentimental but for some reason really connected with me a choked me up. But as far as I know it never won an award for its technical excellence as a song.<div><br></div><div>My friend (and to my mind a very successful artist), Amy Speace, just posted on her Facebook page that she considered herself success writing and finishing a new song while on her morning run. For her music is her livelihood as well as her passion, besides being a really nice person in general. I recently tried to get into one of the "official" NERFA showcases for their upcoming conference in November. I struck out on that score. But to balance matters out, I was selected by two other emerging artists to accompany them at their NERFA showcase because of my musical skills and have, in addition, been invited to appear as a solo artists at 4 different guerrilla showcases at the NERFA conference for a total of 14 performances over a period of 4 days. To my mind, THAT is "success". Gosh, I'm looking forward to that extended weekend!</div><div><br></div><div>I therefore believe that "success" (at least where the emerging artist is concerned) is an internal concept. It's what makes you happy as a musician without necessarily involving the external approval of the "outside world"; it is not the explicit judgment of others that makes one "successful" as an emerging artist; rather, it is the implicit approval that comes indirectly from circumstances turning out your way. I may never win a Grammy Award (although I'm honest enough to say that it would be nice), but I don't measure my success by that kind of criteria. I have a rising number of gigs, people want me to accompany them because of how I play guitar, and I love the appreciation of the smaller audiences that claps their hearts out when I perform. What more could I ask for to really feel like a "success"?</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yoursin DADGAD.</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120032013-10-08T09:14:00-04:002022-05-10T04:51:13-04:00The Emerging Artist and NERFA: The Myth and the Real PurposeNext month I will be attending the North East Regional Folk Alliance or NERFA conference in the Catskills of New York. Other than the International Conference, it is among the largest gathering of musicians, booking agents and presenters (and others as well) on the "folk spectrum" in the U.S. This will be the third time I've attended NERFA and the ostensible focus of the conference is the presentation of both official and unofficial (known as "guerrilla") showcases where presenters and booking agents get to see new (and not so new acts) that they might interest them in booking. To this end there is a HUGE amount of marketing that goes on with flyers, cards and other paper media advertising artists and their showcases all but littering the entire hotel where it takes place (NERFA literally takes over the hotel for the entire extended weekend). The primary focus of the vast majority of emerging artists like myself are the guerrilla showcases which can last late into the early morning hours. For folks like myself, it is the most fun you can have being sleep deprived!<div><br></div><div>The almost subliminal but clearly ostensible myth that I have observed at NERFA in the past is the nearly frenzied need to get gigs directly from a performance at NERFA. While it might be possible to get a gig this way for some artists, the REAL purpose of NERFA and conferences like it is very different. I have made many strong friends in the "folk community" as a result of my being an emerging artist but they tend to live very far away, so I don't see or hear them very often. NERFA and events like it draw many of my music friends in from far away, giving me a chance to spend some quality "music time" with them. So there is a real sense of something like a class reunion to these events that I love. Therein lies the real purpose of NERFA and it's other regional siblings: to connect and re-connect with old and newly-discovered friends. Indeed, I've gotten paying gigs from referrals by other artists that I've made friends with at NERFA conferences. Sure, I've gotten direct a few direct gigs from performing at showcases at NERFA, but the real value of NERFA is <i style="font-weight: bold;">NETWORKING </i>with those like you. </div><div><br></div><div>Think creatively. Perhaps there's a person with a following in another locale you'd like to try and he/she would like to have a gig in your area. Arrange to be an opener in his locale and he/she the opener for you at a gig in your locale. This "gig swapping" is just one way to get new gigs. Use a contact from NERFA as a "referral" to a venue you've not played before. I did this and now I am a regular at that venue. Play accompaniment to another artist at their gig and perhaps they will play at yours enhancing the sound of your own music. These are just a few examples of concrete positive outcomes from "investing" in the networking process at NERFA and similar events. Sure, all of the marketing materials everywhere make the experience more than a bit commercial, but everyone wants to put their best foot forward. And perhaps these marketing material are of some value. But the best return on your marketing time and money is making new friends and creating new contacts. Besides, it's fun and stimulating! Who could ask for more from sleep deprivation?</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120042013-10-04T09:01:00-04:002022-05-29T07:40:09-04:00The Emerging Artist as Accompaniment for Other ArtistsLike the last two years, I will be going to the North East Regional Folk Alliance or NERFA Conference in the Catskills in New York in November. Usually I go as a solo act to play showcases, network with other artists and meet with venue owners, booking agent and "presenters". The conference goes on for three days and three nights and much of the best part of it are the "guerrilla showcases" that go on til all hours of the morning. It's the most fun an emerging artist can have while being sleep deprived. <div><br></div><div>This year is somewhat different for me, while I will be doing solo showcase acts during the conference, I have been asked by two different artists to be their accompaniment on guitar for their NERFA showcase acts. Independent of one another, Jackie Damsky (who does covers of "golden age" jazz and blues) and Carolyn Waters (who does blues and gospel music) have asked me to support them at a variety of showcases. I consider it both a wonderful opportunity and a personal challenge.</div><div><br></div><div>I think that it is important for an emerging artist to occasionally get out of their own music and their own head and "learn to play nice with others". If done right, and the integration between accompaniment and vocalist is tight, the overall effect can be truly wonderful: a genuine synergy,where the whole becomes greater than the sum of the parts. For the accompaniment, it becomes critical to pay attention to the<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> vocalist's tempo, groove and (importantly) dynamics. This does not preclude the an accompanist from taking some creative license and possible improvisation. But such license must be exercised <i style="font-weight: bold;">within</i> the context and confines of the tempo, groove and dynamics set by the vocalist. After all, you are the accompaniment, not the lead in the situation. Where the vocalist goes, the accompaniment follows and not the other way around. Where the vocalist and the accompaniment can achieve that close synchronicity the accompaniment becomes more like a second voice in a beautiful duet. It can become an especially captivating moment for the artists and the audienceat those moments. That's what I shoot for. </span>
</div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Well I can hardly wait to go to NERFA now and expect it to be something special this years. Sometimes the stars align just so creating special opportunities for new musical adventures. I think this years NERFA conference will be one of those times.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Food for thought.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Yours in DADGAD</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Rick Gottlieb</span></div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120052013-09-22T18:08:00-04:002022-07-25T16:13:42-04:00If you want to improve as an emerging artist, work on your "groove"!As I sit down to write this blog entry, I am returning home from visiting my mom and performing at an Open Mic in New York City. I'm driving home alone and to occupy my mind to stay alert I am listening to music on my iPhone in shuffle mode which include some of my favorite artists as well as tracks of mine from my CD's. As I listen, I ask myself what it is about certain songs that I find most pleasing and appealing to me. I <i style="font-weight: bold;">really </i>listen to the songs(an isolated drive will do that to you). As I do, I begin to notice a pattern emerging between the songs I really enjoy, those that I just like and those that make me wonder why they're on my iPhone. It's "groove" or a lack thereof.<div><br></div><div>By groove, I mean a repeating recognizable rhythmic pattern or motif that underlies the rest of the instrumentation, melody and harmonies of a particular song. The best songs seem to have a groove that is consistent tempo-wise throughout the song but which doesn't interfere with the lyrics or the melody, but becomes the integral basis for the song itself. Why should this be? Why should a song's groove become so important to be truly appealing? The answer to my mind harkens back to something I learned from Livingston Taylor in his class on State Performance Techniques. He pointed out that in order for an audience to "suspend their reality" in order to become genuinely involved with your performance, they must feel "safe". That is, the audience must feel comfortable with some recognizable and consistent aspect of your performance that puts them at ease. Livingston emphasized the maintenance of a <i><b>consistent tempo</b></i> throughout a song as the basis for a solid performance. </div><div><br></div><div>What a consistent tempo is to a <i><b>live</b></i> performance, I believe that "groove" is to a <i><b>recorded</b></i> song. In order for a song to become genuinely appealing to a listener, the song's groove must be recognizable, consistent as to pattern and tempo, and form the basis for the melodic and harmonic lines of the song. It seems to me that while drums seem to play a large role in establishing a solid groove, that role can be filled by a great bass line or a percussive, rhythmic guitar part. I recall being accused by Livingston of having my tempo to much established by my hands in my somewhat percussive, acoustic style. This may be true to the extent that I (like many solo guitarist, singer/songwriters I know) have a tendency to speed up my tempo during a song if I become excited or nervous during a performance. So I keep on working on this aspect of my performance technique as an emerging artist. But when I am recording, I generally play to a metronome which helps solve this problem. But what it also does is <i><b>reinforce</b></i> the song's groove as well. And listening to myself on my iPhone in my recorded material, I can tell the difference between when I play without a metronome in a rubato style and when I play along with a metronome.</div><div><br></div><div>As I drive home, I make myself a promise to both practice and to songwriter to a metronome to improve my tempo consistency and improve my "groove" for my music. After all, there's always room for improvement . . . . </div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120062013-09-17T09:25:00-04:002022-04-21T14:41:42-04:00One man's view of the process of songwritingThere must be hundreds of different ways to write a song and I've read a number of books and watched a number of videos and attended a number of seminars on songwriting and will probably continue to do so. I'm always interested in how other folks approach the art and "craft" of songwriting. The way I see it approaches to songwriting sit upon something like a "spectrum" of sorts. At one end you have people that take a very disciplined, almost scientific approach while other end of the spectrum others approach songwriting in such a philosophical way, they treat it nearly like a form of spirituality. And all of this is valid and correct for the people that espouse each approach. This is because there is no "right" (or, for that matter, "wrong") way to write a song. This is because songwriting beyond a certain point is really an extension of the mind and life experience of the songwriter. <div><br></div><div>For me, songwriting is first and foremost about music and groove, predictably composed on an acoustic guitar. I experiment with different keys, different tunings, capos (both full, partial and combinations of multiples) until I find a riff of musical idea that I find pleasing enough to expand upon. I then play that musical idea over and over again all the while asking myself (or even others if they are present) "What does this musical phrase suggest to you?" Or "What emotion does this reflect?" From that I develop preliminary melodic ideas that complement the groove being created that can support lyrics. I must confess that a number of the melodic ideas I've created became so intricate that they became instrumentals instead of songs.</div><div><br></div><div>Once I have the musical idea firmly enough embedded in my mind, I will turn to a list of hooks and song titles (metaphors, really) that I have compiled and update regularly to see if one of them might fit the groove of the musical idea. From there, it becomes a matter "filling out" the metaphor with lyrics.</div><div><br></div><div>One thing I have learned is that a song worth singing in public is one that has been allowed to "gestate" or age in the manner of a fine wine. And there is no rushing it, not if you want the song to be one that comes from your heart and not merely something "nicely commercial" in nature. The songs I am most proud of are those that combine my natural tendency for musical intricacy and elegance with lyrics that are true <b><i>for me,</i></b> reflect <b><i>my viewpoint</i></b> in its truist form, and that "fit" my voice. And that process just takes time to edit, re-write and finalize and tweak.</div><div><br></div><div>I believe that in the final analysis, singer/songwriters must approach songwriting as an intimate process which is why many of us do our songwriting in isolation. In some ways, this isolation is unfortunate because the point of "performable" songs is to create something that a listener can relate to on his or her personal level. So it would only make sense that the song be created with regular feedback. But like the canvas painter, the songwriter will not expose his or her song until "fully formed". Also, it takes a certain level of "egolessness" to do something like this because of the intimacy of the songwriting process for many, including myself. So the struggle continues.</div><div><br></div><div>Yes, there are different ways to write a song. For some it takes 10 minutes and for others 10 years and each are equally valid because they are a reflection of that songwriter's mind and spirit and everyone is a little different. This is my process and it generally works for me.</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div><div><br></div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120072013-09-09T09:16:00-04:002022-05-10T04:37:28-04:00The "comparing mind" and the emerging artistI recently had a fantastic gig at the Brooklyn Coffee and Tea Room in Providence, RI. I was one of three performers with the host Steve Allain doing some "warm up" music as the host. This was a true "listening room" in the sense that the primary purpose of people being there was not to talk, or drink or eat, but to listen to the music being played. It was simply wonderful. As was my usual practice, I got to the venue early (early is the new "on time" in my book) and began warming up. Given how long I've played guitar, my "warming up" can look like a performance of sorts. <div><br></div><div>As the audience crowded in I noticed that much of the people arriving we're of college student age and they had come to see one of the three of us showcase performers. While watching the two other showcase performers, in the back of my mind, in the narrow recesses of my unconscious, I was critiquing their technical and performance skills as compared to my own. As soon as I realized I was doing this consciously, I shut it down firmly. This is a natural human reaction which my friend Ellis calls the "comparing mind", when we stop listening to the music being played and start analyzing it for perceived deficiencies. In the final analysis, this type of thinking leads to a dead end and leads to the corrosive internal questions, "why can't I get a better gig?" And "what does he/she have that I don't that they have a bigger fan following?" </div><div><br></div><div>Lets face it music is not necessarily a "meritocracy" where the technically best performers are the biggest stars. This was proven in miniature at this gig as the vast majority of the audience was there to cheer on the youngest college student-aged performer. She had mastered the quintessential requirement for a professional emerging artist: having a strong enough relationship with her fellows to be able to get them to walk a full half-hour to listen to her perform. This is why the "comparing mind", that is based on technical proficiency, can be a dead end because it misses the point of the exercise: envy will not get you an audience, relating to others will. As it turned out, many people were blown away by my performance, including the venue owner who wanted me to come back and perform a fuller set because he really enjoyed my performance and now such arrangements are being made. In the final analysis, the only real competition we have is ourselves and what others do to advance their music career is theirs to follow and should not deter us, as individual emerging arts, from following our own muse to musical success.</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HBO_o2Fgobg/Ui3KMDEpS_I/AAAAAAAAAUg/Z-e20eQIHAg/s640/blogger-image--114884602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HBO_o2Fgobg/Ui3KMDEpS_I/AAAAAAAAAUg/Z-e20eQIHAg/s640/blogger-image--114884602.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" /></a></div>
</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120082013-09-03T09:15:00-04:002023-12-10T11:47:54-05:00A Music Festival to RememberLast week I had the unique joy of participating in my first "Music Festival", specifically the Keene Music Festival in the college town of Keene, New Hampshire. Looking back now from the distance of a few days, I have to say the experience really was extraordinary, unlike any gig I've had previously. As an emerging artist, I've done gigs at coffeehouses, restaurants, pubs, and the like as well playing outdoors, "busking" on the Boston Common. In many ways, a music festival from the standpoint of the artist is really a combination of the audience of a coffeehouse and the impromptu ambience of outdoor busking. People may walk by, but they are there intentionally to listen to different artists, unlike busking where their presence is an creature of happenstance. And I could tell the audience was there intentionally because the weather was decidedly less than perfect. Yet, there they were, standing in a dripping rain, just to listen and appreciate my music. Both children and older adults alike stood and listened to my music. I sold CD's and collected some names on my email list. It was simply wonderful.<div><br></div><div>It's worth mentioning that I got this festival gig by playing a small restaurant in Keene earlier in August of this year, when again by happenstance, the director of the festival happened to be in attendance, heard me play and then decided to have me play at the festival! Happy serendipity indeed! Which makes me realize again that going after a particular gig is more a function of having the right person actually hear you perform <i style="font-weight: bold; ">in person</i> more than anything else. Yes, I've talked about this issue in my blogposts of the past, but it came back to me in full force after the Keene Music Festival: I would <i style="font-weight: bold; ">never</i> have gotten the gig unless the decision maker was physically present to see me perform. No hyped-up electronic press kit from ReverbNation or Sonicbids.com was going to get me a really good gig like this festival by itself. If you plan on being a gigging performing artist, venues and presenters must listen to you in person to hear and see for themselves just how good you really are. No virtual proxy will be a satisfactory substitute where the emerging artist is concerned.</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120092013-08-29T09:03:00-04:002022-05-11T12:30:20-04:00The Struggle Between Me and the AudienceI harbor a secret that I suspect many emerging artist themselves secretly harbor. I generally don't talk about it because I view it as a daily struggle. It tends to come to the fore particularly when I perform at a gig. I know from both studying performance techniques of others and the instruction of great performance teachers like Livingston Taylor at Berklee College of Music, that the performing artist when performing must be entirely focused in the present moment on the members of the audience listening to him or her. I take this maxim or performance technique to heart and keep my eyes and my mind not on my hands or how I may look to the audience, but on each member of the audience itself. <div><br></div><div>But this takes real effort on my part because I feel a constant tug in the back of my mind as I play to just close my eyes and focus on the music and how it makes <b style="font-style: italic; ">me</b> feel. This is my "terrible secret". I love to play music for its own sake even to the exclusion of those around me. When I "practice" my music alone, I am free to immerse myself in the "flow" of the music I create without the necessity of having to connect with members of the audience. This is the fundamental difference between just playing music and "performing" music. The difference between the internal music of the self and the external music of performance. And it's a bit of a struggle because the tendency to lose oneself in their music can be very addictive, a bit of a "siren song", if you'll pardon the pun.</div><div><br></div><div>This is not to say that performance is not enjoyable to me; to the contrary, I love to perform because the music becomes the medium by which I connect with members of the audience. But playing for oneself when they should be performing is really, to my mind a selfish, narcissistic pleasure, like savoring a piece of exquisite chocolate while refusing to share the experience with the person right in front of you. I clearly remember years ago going to Tanglewood to see Miles Davis perform. Throughout the performance, Davis despite being a truly great musician, would simply turn his back to the audience and just lose himself in his own music as if he was playing in his own living room. I rapidly became annoyed by this behavior and lost interest in his music because it became clear that he was not present for the benefit of his audience but really just to hear min self jam with his own band, the audience being of secondary importance. I resolved I would not do such a thing to my listeners.</div><div><br></div><div>I keep that event in the back of my mind now when I perform and use it to resist the temptation to just close my eyes and focus on the music and not the audience. Don't get me wrong, playing music well is a <i>sine qua non</i> for a solid performance, but its <i style="font-weight: bold; ">not </i>enough. You must be <i>with</i> your audience in the moment of performance, that is the essential part of a good performance. It is when you can combine, balance really the virtues of <b><i>both</i></b> playing well <i style="font-weight: bold; ">and</i> being in the moment with your listeners that the emerging artist can produce a <i style="font-weight: bold; ">great</i> performance and connect with members of the audience.</div><div><br></div><div>Food for thought.</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottliebtag:rickgottlieb.net,2005:Post/59120102013-08-18T13:04:00-04:002022-05-30T05:20:46-04:00The "Terminal Tavern"It should come as little or no surprise that, as an "emerging artist", I have felt "forced" to play in venues less than wonderful for the musical soul but nonetheless profitable. David Wilcox once described this (quoting, yet another artist, come to think of it) as playing the "Terminal Tavern". A place the artist plays on his way to "somewhere else" as it were. I had such an evening the other night.<div><br></div><div>In many ways, it was really a test of my own endurance as a solo performer than anything else. It looked like an auspicious locale to begin with: a small, newly-established, cozy tavern in a small town not too far from my home where the owner personally chose acoustic artists like myself. However, my warning lights should have started flashing when I was directed to a corner of the tavern that had little in the way of lighting while five (5) wide-screen TV's showed various sports events in progress. Not an ideal situation, but perhaps the evening would improve over the 3-1/2 hours I was scheduled to play. Yep, 3-1/2 hours; Enough to stretch any performer's memory of repertoire. But, on the other hand I was being paid $150 for my time by the venue owner alone, so . . . .</div><div><br></div><div>There were some positive moments during the evening a couple asked if I knew any John Denver as they thought I sounded a bit like him. So, I tried my hand at "Rocky Mountain High" as a request though I hadn't played it for more than 30 years and they applauded, which was nice. But the vast majority of the time I played as little more than "atmospheric music" while folks watched TV, drank their beers and cocktails, talked among themselves while generally ignoring me. I might as well have been a jukebox. And, of course, there was the obligatory drunk who liked to talk loudly and aggressively towards me and other patrons as well as the patron who wanted to hear "freebird". <sigh>.</div><div><br></div><div>All of this raises the question of whether the "Terminal Tavern" type of gig is actually, <b style="font-style: italic; ">really</b>, worth taking for the "emerging artist". I made no CD sales, no one seemed to want to converse with me, no one signed my email list and I was generally relegated to the status of background music. Wonderful. Not. But I did make $150 for my time which is not bad. But the gig did nothing to advance my music or myself as a musician (other than stretch my lyric memory skills). On the other hand, perhaps it is important for an emerging artist to play the "Terminal Tavern" for different reasons. Perhaps beyond the money, emerging artists need to remind themselves the differences between a music-supportive venue and a Terminal Tavern. Yes, money is important for any gig, certainly. In a time when many venue owners and presenters take musicians as little more than a commodity, like pork bellies or orange juice concentrate, it <i style="font-weight: bold; ">is</i> nice to be paid relatively well for a night's work. But that's only half of the story to a great gig. On another level, if the <i style="font-weight: bold; ">music</i> you play is not served by the venue you perform in by introducing it to new activated listeners, your time as an emerging artists may not have been well spent. Lesson learned.</div><div><br></div><div>But I did make $150 . . . .</div><div><br></div><div>Yours in DADGAD</div><div><br></div><div>Rick Gottlieb</div>Rick Gottlieb