A curious dream. I was playing the clarinet (which is not my instrument in awake-world) for a band, led by the jazz pianist Keith Jarrett, at a concert held in a barn. When it came to my turn to play, I could barely produce more than a whoosh of air and a few honks. Mercifully, Jarrett (who does not suffer fools gladly in awake world) was generous towards my efforts. On rising, I remembered an experience to which many professional guitarists have testified. Namely, that they found it, sometimes, surprisingly difficult to play certain passages live which were easy enough to perform in the context in which they’d been learned. The principle is: we execute a skill best in the place wherein it was developed. The phenomenon has something to do with the associations formed between the environment and the process of education. Intriguing. Which is why painters, who work entirely competently in the studio, may go to pieces when working en plein air for the first time.
10.00 am: An appallingly late start for a Saturday. More marking, from now until the close of the day. (Elaine Radique played in the background.) The third-year students, on the whole, have grasped the texture and intent of the Art/Sound module better the second-year students. This isn’t surprising. An astonishing maturation may take place between the final two years, one that is significantly greater than that observed as they move from the final year of secondary school to the first year university, and from first to second year studies. The same distinctions is evident in their fine art performance. Pennies drop, somethings click, and acts are got together.
Over lunch, I began a thought project related to the range of guitar effects pedals that presently aren’t integrated on a pedalboard. Should they be? Yesterday evening, I optimised the integrity of both the amp>cabinet connections and Pedalboard IV’s dual input to such. The next stage of design beckons:
2.00 pm: Marking … again (with Bill Orcutt in the background). I listen to a great deal of contemporary music that most people I know would consider an inexorable din. The best of it makes me want to play the guitar. Sometimes it’s public and raucous and at other times, internal and reflective. At all times it’s confident and unashamed of itself. In my view, one should enter a field of practice with a view to extending, rather than merely reiterating, it. That would the nature of your contribution, if successful. Why would you want to do what someone else does, even well?
4.00 pm: A little equipment sourcing before my final ‘script’ of the day. On one feedback form I wrote: ‘Ensure that you … engage with other writers’ observations. Academic writing is a conversation rather than a monologue’. Evening approaches, but the day light is gradually extending:
5.20 pm: An end. 6.30 pm: Practise session 1 (just in case I’m called to participate in Jarrett’s band again tonight). 7.30 pm: An evening with my wife.