Marching to the beat of your own drummer
Jack's been fairly adamant about it since last summer. He wants to learn the drums. I suggested the harmonica, the ukulele, the Jew's harp, but he won't yield. I point out that we have an apartment and neighbors, that drummers are the least cool guys in the band, that you have to wear a sweat band... he won't be budged.
So this afternoon
I sat in with him as Frank taught him to read music and to whack away at the cymbal and the snare while hoofing at the bass drum.
I drew as they drummed, listening as Frank explained music notation, the part of music lessons that I could never grasp, incomprehensible gibberish that led me to give up the keyboard, the guitar and to keep my harmonica in the shower where I can wail away without an audience or any sheet music.
Amazingly, Jack seemed to grasp this foreign language and was hammering out a coherent tattoo by class's end.
Two things: 1) there's no feeling as amazing as when your kid does something you can't.
and 2) Music is built into us, just as drawing is. It's hardwired into our motherboards. But musical theory, notation, and just talking about music in the abstract is a very different matter. It uses other parts of the brain that make me feel like rubbing my tummy and tapping my head.
I don't know how you could learn it efficiently without discussing these concepts but I have never been able to get over that hump. And I do love music so.
So many books on drawing begin by explaining all the different sorts of pencils you could use, all the different kinds of paper there are, the laws of perspective, anatomy, composition, etc., all studded with works from the great masters, insisting you use every part of your brain except the part that sees and draws.
I think the basics should start with the basics. Having fun, letting it out, getting some visceral, sensual reward immediately. As soon as Jack got his very own pair of sticks, his teacher let him wale away randomly at all the drums, smashing the cymbals with all his might, not music anyone would recognize but food for his soul, pure joy. Hooking him.
Think about that exuberance next time you worry someone will see your awful, cramped drawing. You've got to wale and flail and fail, before you headline at the Garden. And I know Jack isn't thinking about that.
He just wants to play ... music.
Comments
I just love the way you talk about your son. It is absolutly beautiful! Thank you for the reminder to flail & flail. :)
Posted by: Heidi | February 2, 2004 07:17 PM
Nice article on drumming. I'm a little biased as I play drums, though usually just for my amusement. In any case I can definately relate to this writing on both levels: 1. I'm a drummer-there's nothing like that experience, whether you're simply flailing away in a cathartic exercise or you're painstakingly honoring the legacy of those magnificent and brilliant drummers who came before you. 2. My daughter is also a musician (flute) and she reads music very well. Hence the aspect about being a parent with a child who has abilities, in this case artistic, that I do not have. Again, nice article!
Posted by: Douglas | February 2, 2004 07:23 PM
i have to disagree... just about the drummers being the least cool guys in the band. My son is also a drummer and there is nothing like watching your child play and being blown away by their talent. Seeing him play a show over the weekend was amazing - he was no longer just my son. he was this musician. it was amazing to watch the transformation. And to see that pure joy you are talking about - he was doing what he loves and that is a feeling i understand.
Posted by: tracy | February 2, 2004 09:29 PM
As I was studying to become an opera singer, higher levels of music theory overwhelmed me and robbed the art of of all beauty in my mind. In fact, I walked away from classical singing for nearly four years before I began pursuing it in the "real world". Theory has an important place (and in the end, I'm glad to know the things I do), but music truly blossoms on its own.
It is often said that Luciano Pavoratti cannot read music. I sometimes wonder if this lack of theoretical skill allowed his mind and voice to be free for such pure beauty and expression.
Posted by: melissa | February 2, 2004 09:55 PM
YEEEEA..HAAWWW!!!..FLAIL and FLAIL...tis true...
But ah.... I'm afraid you will be hearing from others besides me about drummers being "the least cool guys in the band"....ooops...tis false
Posted by: fern | February 2, 2004 10:05 PM
Great post! Jack will be fine. What is music with out the drums.
Ha, I thought of you this week end I ran across a old 1975 book by George Booth. "think good thoughts about a pussycat". I had forgoten we had it.
Posted by: Joe | February 2, 2004 10:53 PM
One of my girlfriends dumped me (sob) for a drummer a long time ago...I was a keyboard player and was considered considerably less cool. The drummer, guitarist (and the saxophonist too...we can't forget the sax!) ~ they are the coolest. As I read this article my five year old is happily improvising on the piano...I agree with you, music is built into us, a part of us, as much as the rhythm of our breathing and the beat of our hearts is integral to our being. Keep on playing Jack!
Posted by: PunkClown | February 3, 2004 12:17 AM
I must join the chorus of rebellion against your remark that drummers are uncool, but maybe I'm biased coming from a place of loving and living with someone who could knock your socks off with the music he makes behind his kit. He also teaches kids at times and gets enormous satisfaction from the joy they get from the process. It's our most primal music, drumming, and I get great delight in living with someone who hears rhythm in everything around him. Keep it up, Jack, and it might take you wonderful places...and I don't just mean around the world.
Posted by: Marilyn | February 3, 2004 05:54 AM
I held out for two years when my daughter wanted a drum set. She got it on her 11th Christmas. Thankfully, we have a third floor where she can wail away. The 17-year old has played trumpet for 8 years and now has taken up bass guitar and the 19-year old used to play violin until it became "uncool" junior year. Many nights I go to bed to the drumbeat and bassline throbbing above my head. I pretend I'm young and in the dorm again!
Posted by: Loretta | February 3, 2004 08:25 AM
although I am a jazz singer now, when I was 11, I joined the band as an oboe player (my dad suggested it - I wanted to play tuba..but that's a whole other story) anyway, I distinctly remember 'wailing' on the oboe and moving my fingers as fast as possible - of course not knowing any fingerings yet. I would play this crazy stuff and call it computer music...I thought it was brilliant...LOL!! it's always best to experiment with your own soul's improvisation ......otherwise, what's the point?
congrats on having a drummer in the family!
Posted by: sarahj | February 3, 2004 09:18 AM
My husband is a recreational drummer, plays jazz mostly, and he had years of lessons, starting at a very young age. Although he loved to 'just play' he's always told me about those formative years and the value of learning 'the rudiments.' He never resented the rigor of training because he knew the technique would help him achieve what he never could just by 'messing around.' He loved his teacher and bandleaders and that made a crucial difference. I studied violin but hated the Germanic taskmaster that came every Monday night to give me private lessons. If I had had a teacher who was encouraging and inspiring I might have stayed with it. But all I got was drills and scales. When I was alone I would play whatever I wanted.
I hope Jack has a great teacher whom he loves and who will help him get a firm technical foundation - but I hope he also makes time to just wail.
Posted by: Karen Winters | February 3, 2004 09:35 AM
I highly disagree with my dad.........The drummers are the COOLEST IN THE BAND!!!!!!!!So don't always believe what you read.
Posted by: jack tea | February 9, 2004 06:57 PM