Poseur to Composer

Sipping Kofola by Soma Adhicary

Yesterday at church, I read and understood the musical notation of the hymns we sang for the first time. At least at a basic level. I noticed how the organist used the sustain pedal on the slurs (the curved line connecting two notes) and transitioned up an octave for the last verse.

I felt gratified and a bit exhilarated by this new awareness after the first hymn.

During the intermediate hymn I was so caught-up in reading the notation I forgot what verse I was singing! I need more practice before I can do both at the same time.

How did I develop this new skill? It wasn't due to long hours of study. I don't have that kind of free time. It was accomplished by taking small, frequent sips.

For example, last week I carried the Essential Dictionary of Musical Notation in my back pocket with a page from an old hymn book for the bookmark. During a free moment I would try to "sight-read" the hymn on the page. When I got stuck, and that happened often, I referred to the dictionary for clarification. A sip of musical notation here, a sip of knowledge there. A sip to test my recall. After awhile it adds up.

Like Dominie the piano teacher said, "let me have my minutes".

I will put them to good use.

Approximately 300 pounds of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. Photo by Ian D. Keating

Yesterday in the musictheory subreddit someone asked the question: what do you feel gives you legitimacy as a musician? I've written about this issue before but certainly didn't settle it.

Replies in this thread that resonated with me most were the ones that stated interpretation and artistic choices are made and something is produced as a result. Meet that criteria, and the person is a musician.

According to the Wikipedia page for Musician, playing an instrument is not necessary:

A musician is a person who plays a musical instrument or is musically talented. Anyone who composes, conducts, or performs music is referred to as a musician. A musician who plays a musical instrument is also known as an instrumentalist.

Based on the above definitions, my old-coworker who hired a studio musician to play and produce his song while he just sang lyrics he scribbled on a piece of paper is a legitimate musician. He’s not an instrumentalist because he doesn’t play an instrument, but he is a musician. His song is even on Spotify and other music-streaming platforms –although he paid a submission service to be listed.

Art is anything you can get away with as Marshall McLuhan was quoted as saying, and isn't music an art form? Art is also subjective. Isn’t talent subjective too?

As another redditor stated, there are "a lot of levels of musicianship". The poseur may be someone at the cusp of musicianship; the entry level musician. That's what I was in my days playing bass in a local nu metal band, a poseur, but it seems I was also a musician. A paradox? Can one be both?

As for now, where do I stand? Today I just finished reading the ebook Eight Traits of the Greats: How the Best Musicians Get That Way by Stan Munslow. He writes this:

Do you refer to yourself as a musician? Do you think of yourself as a musician? If not, start. It doesn’t matter if you’re an absolute beginner or a seasoned pro. If you make music you’re a musician and that’s that. Don’t weaken everything by saying things like "I’m a music student" or "I’m learning piano" or "I’m a novice." No. You’re a musician—a genuine, card-carrying musician.

Perhaps I am a musician in the most charitable sense. I can "perform" the verse part of the song So What and even played it for a few friends. It will be months before I can play the entire song (it might even take the whole year) but it will happen eventually.

What I am certain about is there is no linear path to being a musician. Shortcuts can be made, as my co-worker has proven. Making music (however you define music) by any means necessary is all that is needed.

More on this issue later.

This Poseur to Composer project is starting to remind me of the movie Gattaca.

Gattaca is a sci-fi film about two brothers in a society obsessed with genetic selection. One brother (Vincent) is conceived naturally and born with health defects. The other brother (Anton) is born later and, with the help of genetic selection, is endowed with superior genes.

As the brothers grow up together, they play a game of "chicken" by swimming out to sea as far as they can. The first one to return back to shore loses. Vincent, being genetically inferior to Anton, always loses the game.

Then one day the impossible happens and Vincent wins. He not only wins but rescues his brother from drowning. He later reveals how he did it, saying to his brother "I never saved anything for the swim back."

Vincent's strategy was to out-swim Anton. All effort was put into accomplishing that goal, with no consideration on how he might make it back to shore.

Reporting in this journal of at the end of a long day, when I should already be asleep, feels like I'm not saving anything for tomorrow. As a result of keeping my promise, I've been late several times for work and made compromises to my health. Balance has been thrown out the window.

It's worth it though, because I'm not only learning about music, but getting a refresher on what it takes to win.

Here are the swimming scenes from the movie along with an inspiring message.