The last part of Richard's post, where he talks about avoiding cliche, reminds me of something a drawing teacher I once had pointed out:
Let's say you're drawing a walnut and you want to draw the shell. You can start just automatically making a bunch of lines that you think will represent the texture of the nutshell. But are you really looking, and are you really seeing what the light on the surface of the shell is doing? Are you really being conscious about each mark you make on the paper being an attempt to communicate your true visual experience of the object you're drawing?
I feel the same logic applies to playing. I definitely get into automatic states where I am basically playing cliches of my own way of expressing-- this happens especially when I'm tired or don't really feel like playing. The only way I've found to avoid these automatic states is to do what amounts to a meditation where all thought between you and your instrument (e.g. whatever far-out rig you play) is redirected back into the instrument and the music itself. It feels to me like digging down and down and down in a moebius-strip like fashion, or like those celtic designs where the animals eat their own tails. I'm curious to know how other people experience this process.
ghost 7/ Oranje
on 11/25/02 8:05 PM, Richard Zvonar at firstname.lastname@example.org wrote:
At 7:43 PM -0500 11/26/02, Butch wrote:
>God, is this thread EVER going to die?
This thread . . . . could go in any of several directions, but the most productive
might be to try to identify how certain musical "gestures" entered
our common language, how and when these became part of the technicaltools we use, and how we can avoid sinking into endless and repeatingsonic cliché.