Ivan Trevino

Music can be our interpreter

Music is powerful. It can bring people together, even those of us living worlds apart. When we cannot communicate with words, music can be our interpreter.

It can even bring together a singer from Kazakhstan and a music group from the U.S. to do something like this:

Here’s the story.

Earlier this year, my band Break of Reality traveled to Central Asia on a music diplomacy tour for the U.S. State department. We performed concerts, taught at local schools and collaborated with local musicians. We performed with many wonderful collaborators, but one in-particular left a lasting impression on us: Galymzhan Moldanazar, a singer-songwriter from Kazakhstan.

Galymzhan sings in his native Kazakh language and speaks virtually no english. Despite the language barrier, we immediately connected with his wonderful, indie-pop influenced music. His voice is so pure and beautiful, and he is such an endearing person and musician. Here’s a photo from our first hang:

After a few concerts in Kazakhstan, a collaboration was planned to bring Galymzhan to the U.S.

In May 2015, we flew Galymzhan to New York City to collaborate on a new music video for Akpen Birge, one of Galymzhan’s original songs now arranged for Break of Reality. It was the first time Galymzhan had traveled to the U.S., or outside of Kazakhstan for that matter. Even though Galymzhan was in a new place, he brought his good nature with him. He gave each of us a beautiful, hand-made wallet from Kazakhstan as a token of thanks for bringing him to the states. And on the inside, a Kazakh coin. How sweet is that?!

For me, collaborating with Galymzhan on this video was a truly special moment. It’s unbelievable to think that we were brought together because of music; he is now a collaborator and friend for life.

I hope people in the U.S., Kazakhstan and beyond enjoy this video and his wonderful music. Even if you don’t understand his lyrics, I hope his music speaks to you as it does to me.

Break of Reality in Turkmenistan

The thoughts and ideas expressed in this blog post belong to the author and are not in any way affiliated with American Music Abroad or the U.S. State Department.
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Turkmenistan is considered by some to be the “North Korea of Central Asia”. My band Break of Reality traveled there as music ambassadors for the U.S. State Department. Here’s what happened:

When I received word that American Music Abroad, a U.S. State Department program, was sending my band Break of Reality to Turkmenistan, my immediate reaction was “Where is that?” Probably a common American response, as most of us are pretty unaware of the country, its policies and its culture. So I looked at a map. Turkmenistan is located in Central Asia and shares borders with Iran, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan and Afghanistan.

As I did more research, I became a little worried. Turkmenistan has serious human rights issues. Almost everything in the country is government owned, like newspapers and television stations. Speaking out against the President can get you in serious trouble. Being gay will get you thrown in jail. Many internet and social media outlets, like YouTube and Facebook, are not accessible. Things like “Asia’s Other North Korea” and “The North Korea you don’t know about” popped up in my Google search. Now, I was really worried.

On February 20th, my bandmates Patrick Laird, Meta Weiss, Andrew Janss and I flew into Ashgabat, the capital city of Turkmenistan to begin our music diplomacy tour.

City of Marble

When our plane landed in Ashgabat, things were much different than what I imagined. I was expecting dry desert terrain, something I’d seen in Homeland. Instead, we noticed an incredible amount of colored lights, sculptures and buildings in the distance. It reminded me of the Las Vegas view from the desert. One far away building caught my eye. It was shaped like a water droplet, lit in various tones of blue, set on a hill overlooking the city.

The airport visa lobby was like a five star hotel, filled with luxurious furniture and spotless marble floors. The people there were just as nicely adorned. Men wore sport coats, nice shoes, were clean shaven, every strand of hair perfectly combed. Women wore nice jewelry and perfectly done makeup. The airport workers were hospitable too, treating us to complimentary tea and candy while we waited for our expeditor to help with our visas. He was a middle aged man who was kind and formal. He kept referring to me as “Mr. Trevino” instead of Ivan.

As we secured our paperwork, I noticed a large photo portrait hanging in the lobby of the airport. It was of a man in a suit.

A van pulled up to take us to our hotel. It was 3am, and before we could lift a finger, at least seven workers from the airport came outside to load our luggage and instruments into our van. Hospitality was a common trend in Turkmenistan. We were guests, and guests are to be taken care of.

Driving through Ashgabat was surreal. It really was like Las Vegas, but much classier. Gaudy buildings, bright lights and beautiful parks at every turn. Each building was made of white marble, and I later found out that Ashgabat holds the world record for the highest concentration of white marble per square meter. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

There was absolutely no trash or litter to be found, anywhere. Later in our trip we would see street cleaners; women who swept the streets with large brooms. Literally people cleaning the streets by hand.

We pulled up to the water drop shaped building that I noticed from the airport. It was our hotel.

Two gigantic glass doors opened as our car pulled up to hotel entrance. Our driver, along with hotel staff, unloaded our gear as we entered. The hotel was exquisite, unlike any I’d ever seen. A long, crystal chandelier hung at the top of the hotel lobby. It ran directly through a large spiral staircase that led to the second floor’s tea room, where we would later rehearse. The floors and walls were also made of marble, and everything from the floor to the ceiling was absolutely spotless.

We walked towards the reception desk past another set of luxury sofas, where I noticed the cover of a local magazine. It was the man in the suit. He was actually on the cover of three separate magazines and a newspaper, all lined up next to each other on a coffee table. I turned towards the check-in, and sure enough, there he was again. A 15 x 10 foot picture of the man in the suit hung above the reception workers, overlooking the hotel lobby. His name is Gurbanguly Berdimuhamedow, and he is the current president of Turkmenistan. His picture was hanging everywhere we went. On planes, in restaurants, and even on the stages of the concert halls we played in.

“This Is Like Jazz!”

During our week in Turkmenistan, we traveled around the country to perform concerts and give educational presentations for music students. One presentation at a music school in Ashgabat is especially memorable.

We walked into a beautiful concert hall filled with music students from 1st through 10th grade, all dressed in traditional Turkmen gowns and hats. This was the first, and maybe the last time they’d see, hear, or interact with an American in their lifetime. As soon as we walked in, they all stood up in unison, and didn’t sit until we gestured for them to do so.

We began to play, and they loved it. They clapped and cheered after every song, were constantly filming on their smart phones, asked great questions through our translator, and even brought us huge bouquets of flowers. After our presentation, a group of six high school aged cellists performed some traditional Turkmen music for us, and we also heard individual performances of Popper etudes and Bach, which we didn’t expect. When our workshop was finished, we asked if they had any final questions before we left. One girl raised her hand and said one word, in English:

“Improvisation.”

We demonstrated and talked about improvisation ideas, and eventually improvised a song with them. Their eyes lit up. We could tell they had never improvised before. For me, this was nothing new. Some music students in the U.S. don’t improvise. But this was different. We talked about trading solos and one girl got so excited. She sort of hopped in her seat and said, “This is like jazz, this is like jazz!” It was really cute. “Yeah, this is kind of like jazz!” I responded. But then she got quiet. “We can’t play jazz.” “Yes you can! You just did!” Meta said.

Our translator jumped in and said, “No, they don’t play jazz here.”

I suggested they improvise a song at their next concert, in a non jazz style. Our translator turned to me and in English said, “they won’t be able to do that, but I’ll tell them anyway.”

After our clinic, I asked our translator why these kids can’t improvise, who said Turkmenistan is all about control and order. I’m not sure how true this is, but a local said something to the effect of: “When a music student is not playing a piece “well enough” for a performance, music schools will sometimes play a recording of the piece and have the student (and accompanist) fake their way through the performance.” Lip sync. For them, this is a better alternative than showcasing a “raw” sounding student.

We were shocked.

We realized our session made an impression on these kids, perhaps stirred some ideas or feelings they may not have experienced before. We realized how important it was for these kids to see us perform, improvise, make mistakes, smile on stage, etc. We realized right then why we were there.

Meta and Patrick sharing a laugh with a student during our improv session.

On a few occasions, we did some sightseeing. We visited the Silk Road city of Merv, ate in a traditional Turkmen hut, tried new foods with funny names (Grub, Male Salad, Herring with a Fur Coat), and even ate some familiar foods (Patrick doesn’t recommend the quesadillas in Turkmenistan). It was fun and we felt welcomed and safe wherever we went.

Wall of silk from the bazaar.

Ancient mosque from the Silk Road city of Merv.

Patrick and Andrew!!!

Male salad?

We were well taken care of too. We were escorted us to all of our functions and had translators everywhere we went. We even went shopping at a bazaar, where we bought traditional Turkmen things like carpets, silk, and jewelry.

We also visited a small local music store to rent equipment for our tour. This was the best music store experience I’ve ever had. The owner served us cakes, coffee and tea as we looked through his catalogue of equipment, and he even gave us a traditional Turkmen stringed instrument called a guijak before we left. (Guitar Center: STEP UP YOUR GAME!)

The speakers and drums from this music store would follow us around the country, as the music store workers were also our traveling roadies and audio crew. Despite our language barrier, we became fast friends with the crew.

The concert halls were beautiful in certain cities, but we also noticed some very poor regions during our travels. In some parts, houses weren’t really houses. They were more like shacks. It seemed like the complete opposite of Ashgabat in every way, except for the hospitality.

I couldn’t help but think about our five star “water droplet” hotel with 15 guests in it. I thought to myself, “Couldn’t the funds used to build that hotel be used for something better, like funding some of the poor regions we traveled through?”

An acquaintance told me “That hotel is not a water drop. It’s a tear drop that looks over the city.”

It made me sad to think about.
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During our travels, we noticed men in black suits who were always around. I asked our crew who they were. “They are government minders; they work for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and are making sure everything goes according to plan.”

We nicknamed them the “Men in Black.”

MEN IN BLACK

The Men in Black showed up everywhere, accompanying us wherever we went. Black suits, white shirts, black ties. Turkmen versions of Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones. They were at sound checks, at restaurants, and even at our concerts. At first, I felt like we were being spied on, but after a while, we got used to having these guys around. In a weird way, they became part of our crew too. They helped with pre and post concert loading and unloading, drove us to dinners, and were perfectly cordial.

They would surprise us from time to time, though. For example, they showed up in Merv with two white mini-buses while we were sightseeing. They started moving all of our gear into these new vehicles and sent our drivers away. Someone decided the Men in Black should drive us the rest of the way, and so they did.

“They’re just doing their job–doing what they are told,” a local told us. Part of it was making sure everything goes smoothly for us. Again, that whole hospitality thing. And, that whole control thing too.

After a concert in Mary, things got crazy with crowd control. A large crowd of audience members waited for us outside of our tour bus and just went crazy. They wanted photos, autographs, hugs, handshakes, anything. I’ve done post show autographs before, but this was different. We were being pulled in all directions. Arms, hands, clothes; whatever they could could get their hands on. “Picture please! Picture please!” echoed throughout the loading area. It began to get even more crowded as people realized where we were, and more dangerous too. It was just too many people in such a small space.

I felt a sharp pain as one of the Men in Black gripped my arm and pulled me away from the crowd, towards the bus. All the band members were being pulled away too as police showed up to dissolve the crowd. Yep, police. It was that crazy.

The Men in Black did their job. They ensured our safety, and we were grateful. As our bus drove away, a group of teenagers began running alongside our bus, shouting, waving and taking photos. We opened the window, waved back and shouted, “Thank you!” A true rock star moment, in Turkmenistan of all places.

Last Show

Our last concert in Turkmenistan was back in Ashgabat. It was one of the most memorable concerts I’ve ever played. We collaborated with a local orchestra and played a traditional Turkmen piece and some Break of Reality arrangements too. This orchestra was REALLY GOOD. Like, really good:

Back to the concert… The ambassador of Turkmenistan gave the opening remarks and introduced us to the stage. The crowd was beyond enthusiastic, and the hall was filled over capacity. There must have been 800 people in this 700 person hall. People were standing in the aisles for the entire show, a fire code violation in any American concert hall.

The crowd was unlike any I’d ever played for too. If they heard something they liked, they cheered and clapped, right in the middle of a song. The peak of a phrase, the end of a musical section, etc. They were completely into the music. It was special.

During our last song, many of the audience members took out their cell phones, turned on their flash lights, and started waving them in the air. The view from the stage was so beautiful, like a night sky filled with moving stars.

Audience members wave their cell phones to the beat during the last song.

I’ll never forget that moment, and will never forget Turkmenistan. The people are beautiful, welcoming, and were sincerely thankful that we visited their country. Audiences love music. Every concert hall we played was filled to the brim. We learned so much from the musicians we taught and performed with, who seemed so grateful that we were there, and so eager to share their culture with us. It truly was an exchange of music and life.

Many of the things I read about Turkmenistan are true, and can’t be ignored. The human rights issues are there in plain sight. That’s why programs like American Music Abroad are so important. I believe these cultural programs can foster positive change in places like Turkmenistan, and also make Americans more aware of what is happening outside of ourselves. That is really important too, I think.

And maybe we planted a seed for improvisation for those high school musicians. Maybe they will improvise at a concert one day. That alone would make the whole trip worth it.

– Ivan Trevino, March 2015

First Listen: Hands Up

Hands Up was composed to encapsulate the 2014 protests in Ferguson, MO. The words used are not my own; the text comes from numerous interviews and twitter hashtags from protesters at these events. Given the ongoing events in Ferguson, I’d like to make it clear that this work is intended to capture the protest feelings in Ferguson, which in my opinion, hold significant historical and societal value. I am opposed to violent protests and police violence, and believe the best course to create change is through peaceful discourse.

The piece is scored for 10 players total: drum set soloist, four percussionists who rhythmically vocalize text (ala Cage’s living room music) via amplification / megaphones, two marimbas, piano, xylophone, and crotales. It’s art / rock / rally music; perhaps my Zach de la Rocha and Rage Against the Machine influence comes through. Take a listen:

Thank you to Dr. Colin Hill at Tennessee Tech for taking the lead on this commission, as well as consortium members Justin Alexander at Virginia Commonwealth University, Chad Floyd at Campbellsville University, Bob Breithaupt at Capital University, Jeff Moore at University of Central Florida, Jesse Willis at Coastal Carolina University, Brian Mason at Morehead State University, Wayne Bovenschen at Oklahome State University, Charlotte Mabrey at University of North Florida, Julie Hill at University of Tennessee at Martin, and Jordan Kamps at University of Illinois at Chicago. I will be premiering Hands Up alongside the Tennessee Tech percussion ensemble on April 23, 2015 at TTU.

-Ivan Trevino, 2/3/15

Studio Recording: Catching Shadows by FSU Percussion

Percussionists at Florida State University have released an absolutely stunning studio recording of my percussion sextet, Catching Shadows. Not only is the playing top notch, but the recording is equally impressive thanks to Dr. John Parks, who has become one of the most sought after engineers for percussion. Thanks to Sabrina Peterson, Glenda Lopez, Andrew Bockman, J.t. Forrester, Tripp Gwaltney and John Thomas III for their stellar playing and to Dr. Parks for his engineering wizardry. Take a listen!

New Mallet out now!

UPDATE: My mallets are now available at Mostly Marimba, Lone Star Percussion, and Steve Weiss Music!

I am excited to announce the release of my new signature series marimba mallet! I’ve spent the last year with Malletech designing my ideal “go-to” mallet, one that speaks in all ranges of the marimba. The mint green “IT13” mallets made their debut at PASIC 2014.

I wanted to design a mallet that covered the sound spectrum of my marimba music; fat low sounds, clear melodic sounds, and delicate soft sounds. To do so, I decided on a rubber core with synthetic blend yarn, creating a subtle two-tone sound. I’ve been using my mallets on the road lately, both in solo and small chamber music settings, and the feedback has been great which is SO EXCITING to hear!

Not only did Malletech and I spend time getting the sound just right, we also spent time on how the mallet feels in the hand. The mallets are of medium weight and have a slight rebound to them, making faster passages feel easier and more fluid to play.

If you’re going to PASIC this year, plan on stopping by the Mostly Marimba booth to check them out! I think you’ll dig what we came up with.

JOIN CONSORTIUM for DRUM SET SOLOIST w/ PERCUSSION ENSEMBLE

I LOVE DRUM SET! I’ve been composing more for the instrument lately, like Heat Stroke, a new piece for drum set solo + tape that I wrote for Aaron Staebell’s Solo Drum Solo project. Hold Fast, a duo for vibes and drum set, was also recently premiered by percussionists Luis Rivera and Justin Alexander, who will record the piece this summer.

I’m currently writing a large scale piece for DRUM SET SOLOIST w/ PERCUSSION ENSEMBLE. This one is going to rock!! The consortium is organized by Dr. Colin Hill of Tennessee Tech University, who is currently looking for a few more people to support this project to make it happen. If you’d like to join the consortium, support me and this new piece, and have exclusive performing rights before the piece is made available to the public, contact Dr. Hill at cjhill@tntech.edu. The piece will be appropriate for both a college percussion ensemble concert or recital, FYI.

I’m really looking forward to PASIC and hope to see you many of you there!

-Ivan

Senior Year Field Experience

I am so happy that my blog post My Pretend Music School has created dialogue about music school curriculum! It’s had over 40,000 readers (!!!!) and has been used as a talking point for higher ed administration, committees, and faculty meetings around the country. As a working musician, I am not in the position to make decisions about these topics, so creating dialogue is the most I can do. So, THANK YOU for reading, agreeing, disagreeing, and talking about the issues!

One general response to my blog post was especially thought provoking:

“I like your ideas but I’m not sure how they would apply in a traditional college curriculum…”

For me, this is one of my major issues with music school curriculum: “If your ideas don’t fit into our system, then we can’t use them.” How about this, music schools? Rather than changing these “new age” concepts to fit into your traditional framework, perhaps a better solution would be to change your system to allow these new concepts to be introduced and experienced by our students.

Since I have self-appointed myself pretend dean of my pretend music school, (I know, that sounds ridiculous), and since I have some newly enrolled students (readers!), here’s one idea for our pretend school:

Forget everything you know about your senior year of music school. You’re going to do this instead.

SENIOR YEAR FIELD EXPERIENCE

I would love to see students receive actual field experience before graduating. LOTS of it. Get real world experience before actually entering the real world. I think a music student’s senior year could consist of lessons with their primary teacher (yes, being a good musician is still priority #1), plus a number of different field experience projects. Having already taken their required course work during their first three years of school, seniors could focus on putting their education into action. For lack of a better name, let’s’ call it Senior Year Field Experience. Here’s how it could work:

During your senior year, you do not take classes. That’s right. No classes. Instead, you take lessons with your primary teacher while spending the year as an actual “working” musician. Specifically, you’d be required to:

– Book, self-present, market, promote, and perform X number of concerts in your community. These self-presented concerts won’t take place at your music school i.e. no concert office, stage crew, and music stands to help students out. It’s important students face these “real” gigs as they will in the real world. Perhaps this means a student barters with a local church or public school to gain a performance space… The music a student performs, who they perform with, and how these concerts are presented will ultimately be up to the student, just as it would be in the real world.

– Seniors will give X number of educational outreach presentations at public schools. Cultivating a young audience for classical music is probably the single most important thing we can do in terms of keeping classical music alive. Creating meaningful presentations for young people, analyzing those presentations, fixing them and making them better, is a really important skill to have.

– Through a collaboration with local public schools, each senior is required to maintain a small teaching studio throughout the year (maybe 5 students or more). They will offer weekly lessons to underserved students of various ages and ability. Lessons will periodically be monitored by a teaching mentor, who will offer suggestions and criticisms, ultimately helping these music majors become better educators. The experience of teaching on a regular basis is extremely beneficial i.e. scheduling, lesson planning, adapting to different learning styles, crashing and burning, etc.

– Create a website that features a press kit, X number of photos, X number of videos, a biography, audio, etc. In other words, a functioning real life website (!)

This “field experience year” could be overseen by career mentors, who would offer advice and guidance. Ultimately though, it’s up to the student to make everything happen. Schedule rehearsals, plan video shoots, call venues, practice (!), make posters, create social media events, create a lesson schedule, write press releases, etc… And if you don’t get everything done, you don’t get the job (or in this case, the degree.)

As a student, I would much prefer this “field experience year” as opposed to another year of classes, as it gives me a little more creative freedom, a lot more responsibility, and a genuine real world experience that I can learn from. It demands that our students become go-getters, be active instead of passive musicians. In the real world, we ultimately learn by doing, and with this “field experience year”, we are essentially giving our students an entire year to experience the real world in a supportive, educational environment, before they actually dive in.

Some might be asking, “Can’t you just do that stuff when you graduate? Why do you have to do it in school?

Student loans, paying bills, and simply putting food on the table can be stressful for young musicians. It’s the nature of our job; it’s a very difficult career path, and will always be. In his address to the Eastman School of Music graduating class of 2010, University of Rochester President Joel Seligman summed it up best. “You are brave” for doing what you do. I remember sitting around my fellow classmates thinking “What is he talking about?” Now, I know.

I would much prefer students have a practice run at being a working musician before diving in. When a student is in school, they can afford to take creative risks, and ultimately, make mistakes and learn from them. Once you’re in the real world, that luxury dissipates pretty quickly.

I realize some students just want to do one thing; just play in an orchestra, just be a soloist, etc…Given our job market, that is no longer a feasible approach for 98% of our graduates. Sure, it might work for specialty schools like Juilliard or Curtis, but as my friend Robert Freeman says, “Every school can’t be Juilliard or Curtis, and shouldn’t try to be.” That’s a short, but pretty profound statement. (By the way, a few of my current band members are Juilliard and Curtis grads, and they are doing way more than just one thing to make a living too!)

I can’t take credit for the concept of “field study”, as it’s been happening for decades in the music school world. Most music education majors around the country are required to student teach. Some schools and educators have adopted independent studies that might focus on a particular topic of interest, while others are applying field studies on a broader scale, through creating ensembles and community residencies, an idea that my friend Michael Drapkin encourages students to do. I am simply taking the concept of field study and applying it to an entire year of a student’s degree program, so that students can realize first hand what it’s like to be a current day working musician.

Before you say I’m crazy, (which many people already do), here are the experiences a Senior Year Field Experience could provide:

– organizing and self presenting concerts
– creating outreach initiatives
– day-to-day, week-to-week, month-to-month planning
– real life teaching experience
– creating an online portfolio

This sort of curriculum change, I believe, could also have a broad social impact, creating more musically immersed and affluent communities. Can you imagine if multiple colleges and universities from around the country adopted a field experience music curriculum? In those particular cities, there would be more concerts, more lessons for underserved music students, and more outreach presentations for young people, which could lead to more appreciation for music on a broader scale. Pretty utopian and idealistic, I know.

Back to my main point. The most important thing a Senior Year Field Experience could offer a student:

An entire year of being a real musician; gaining a real life understanding of what it takes to piece it all together. That’s what the job title “musician” has become, whether we like it or not.

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This is just one idea that reimagines what a music degree could look like. Maybe this isn’t for every school out there, or for every student out there. But wouldn’t it be nice to at least have the option?

Ben Fang, a wonderful musician, member of the band Grey Light, and current Eastman student, once said to me regarding entrepreneurship in the music school curriculum: “I want to be a working musician, which means I might not make a lot of money. I’m ok with that. Ultimately, I want these classes to teach me how to be a little less poor doing what I love to do.” I don’t think Ben is asking for too much.

I understand there’s an argument that a college education should not be gauged in the light of economics, that college is about enlightenment and knowledge, not about making a career in the end. I agree that college is about gaining knowledge, being enlightened, and ultimately becoming an independent thinker. All I’m asking is that music schools give their students the tools necessary to pay for their enlightment. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for either.

You might be asking, “Is a Senior Year Field Experience even doable at a real college? Would it meet all of the requirements for a real life college degree?” Honestly, I’m not sure, but it certainly meets the requirements for being a real life musician.

– Ivan Trevino, 11/9/14