Danke München

Much like a Monday after a fun-filled and exciting weekend, my return to Munich has seemed lackluster compared to my time in Austria. I am finding myself having a hard time feeling as though I am actively pursuing my Watson project. I find myself asking often what to do and where I should go next. I am conflicted as to whether I should dig in here and try to find connections of rediscovering my voice or if I should try to piece together the next leg of my adventure in Andalusia, Spain, a place I have always wanted to go and that is filled with Flamenco music and scenic landscapes. The advice I have sought has pulled me in many different directions; some suggest to relax my daily routine, listen deeply, and write more, while others encourage me to follow vocal traditions like a hound following a scent, and furthermore, others tell me that just the act of living daily life in the city is enough. I find I am often too much still connected to things that ground me in my life back home and perhaps it could be preventing me from finding new insights and closing me off from new connections. I also maybe expect too much of myself, something which I have heard repeatedly from mentors, colleagues, and peers.

This all being said, my time back in Munich has not been for now. I was able to follow up on a contact I had reached out to a month ago with the English Speaking Music Ensemble (ESME). It was an international group filled with musicians of varying levels but all sharing their love of music, while also speaking English, the common language across Europe/Globe. I arrived early as I was anxious about whether I would find it at all. All I had received was the name of the building which did not show up on any of my navigation apps, and as my friends back home know, I might as well be blindfolded trying to go anywhere without google maps. I have no idea where I am at any point in time. (Amazingly, I’ve gotten this far) I was warmly welcomed by the woman you had invited me, Claudia, who had also mentioned how early I had arrived and introduced me to the conductor of ESME, whose first day it also was! He shared with me that he was actually a primary school teacher but had always loved music and had conducted other ensembles before the pandemic and conveyed to me how much of a pleasure it was to have me there, especially considering that I was a tenor, a voice part that they desperately needed.

It has been quite some time since I had sung in any choir, considering the last time was a Presbyterian church choir that I sang bass in before the pandemic (I wanted to have a low voice so badly) I had forgotten the magic and warmth, which my choral friends know well, that occurs or has the potential to occur, within a choir. It was beautiful to hear a choir of voices, singing an English song that I was familiar with but whose first language was something else. Not all of them were professional singers, some of them were hobbyists, former professionals, or just people who wanted to experience music with others. I was happily reminded of the commodore that takes place within the ensemble and was surprised to see how natural it was even though we came from so many different cultural backgrounds. I was honored to have been so welcome with open arms. Weirdly enough, I also met someone from Barrington, Illinois! (what a coincidence)

I was reminded though from this experience that we don’t have to open every door we wish by ourselves. Sometimes just the act of opening one is enough to have the others opened. What I didn’t mention earlier is that when I had originally reached out to ESME, I was hoping to get a response from their big band ensemble. (Although I am forever grateful for the choir experience, and maybe, sometimes, everything happens for a reason) BUT… it turns out that at the hang after rehearsal, the same woman who had invited me also was able to connect me with the big band. I know had something to do the following day! It was great to be able to play in a big band again, the first time since college, and share music that is near to my heart. The only interesting part of the rehearsal was that all of the trumpets were touring the week I came! So I was in a section of one. I was able to meet a lot of great musicians, some of whom were ex-pats, but also a very international group.

But again, new experiences lead to new experiences. One of the trombonists and I got to talking at the hang after (there are a lot of hangs). This trombonist, Ryanne, invited me out to meet with one of her friends to see some German political standup. Without thinking I said yes. She then asked “wait… do you understand German” to which I replied “no.” after a brief pause she said “… WELL you should come anyway. It will be fun.” Come Saturday we got some good Korean food near the University where I met her and her friend.

We walked to the comedy club where we were greeted by what I learned is another friend of Ryanne, the owner of the club! We sat at the VIP table with the owner and a friend of the comedian. In the small talk that was had, I learned that the owner of the club was actually from the Canary Islands; he had asked me where my accent was from because it sounded similar to his which made sense once I explained I was from Puerto Rico. (this was notable to me because at the time I was desperately trying to find ANYONE who had a connection to Spain, where I was trying to go for my last destination in Europe.)

As for the comedy itself, I understood about .3% of it. (There was a bit about corona that I was able to pick out but otherwise, most of it was lost on me). I did try my hardest to be the best audience member I could be, however. I smiled, tried to look engaged, and laughed when I saw others laughing. Not being able to fully understand allowed me to focus some of my attention elsewhere. While I spent most of my time desperately trying to understand something of what the comedian was saying, the remaining time I spent looking at the audience. So different they were from an American audience. The German audience was so much more reserved than what I would have normally expected at a comedy show. I even saw moments where they wanted to laugh and looked as though they were, but no sound was coming out. It was a very strange phenomenon. That’s when my friend explained to me that it was somewhat of a faux pas to laugh very loudly or draw much attention to yourself. They described it as a respect for the art, not wanting to detract from it. I experienced a similar phenomenon when I was performing a Christmas concert in Europe in 2019. The audience just looked at me with a deadpan, and I thought “oh my god, I suck. They hate it. They almost look bored!” when I finished the song, they erupted with cheers and applause and even gave me a standing ovation! How strange!

The most memorable part about my last week in Munich, however, happened when I returned to the jazz jam. Some newfound friends were opening the jam with a trumpet summit at Unterfahrt and invited me to come, on the condition that I actually played trumpet this time. I did and of course, sang some too. It was a blast to hang with so many great musicians and trumpeters. While I was there a new trumpet player I had not seen yet ask to sit next to me. It turns out this was his first jazz jam. He had played Salsa and Ska professionally but never jazz and so he sat next to me to ask me how a jam session works. As we were talking he interrupted me to say “You know, it’s very strange how open you are, how welcoming everyone is. I am just a stranger and yet you guys talk to me and allow me to play” to which I replied “well of course. It’s a jam session. Everyone is welcome here. If you mess up, go home, practice, and come back next week. People want to see your success and the music spread.” He didn’t end up playing because he was nervous but his friend later told me that I had inspired him to learn 2 new tunes and that he would be back next week to play!

But that was not the highlight, albeit a great moment. The highlight came from a woman who approached me at the end of the jam session. She sat down and said “You are an amazing singer. I have to take a lesson from you.” I was quite shocked at first, and upon gathering myself, I said “…Yes, for sure, are you a singer?” She told me that she was a long time ago but life happened, as it does to many of us, and she put her career on hold and was now trying to get back into it. She said “Please, thank you, I will pay you.” to which I replied “Where are you from?” she told me “Slovakia”. I asked her “Do you know any folk songs?” and she said yes. I told her “That is how you will pay me. You will share some of your music with me and we will call it even.” We set a time for the next day.

She lived on the other side of the city but she was nice enough to meet me at the station and walk me to her place. She had a lovely home, the home of an artist, and had also prepared some dinner. I realized halfway through walking I didn’t really prepare anything to discuss, but she had told me that ballads and scatting were always something that had been intimidating. (If Janet is reading this, I know you’ve heard that before!) I decided I would just show her how to practice based on what I had learned from my teacher about singing! Immediately, I discovered that she was naturally gifted and had a beautiful voice and intonation. We moved on from warm-ups and worked on a song that had intimidated me for a long time, “Misty”. She knew the melody well but English was not her first language. My teacher had always instilled in me that we are storytellers first and foremost, yet second, needing to be able to tell that story, comes diction. So those are the two things we worked on. I remembered being so hesitant when I first started learning voice trying these weird exercises (again, Janet, you know) but she jumped right in. We had so much fun and she was shocked! She told me “no one has ever shown me these kinds of exercises before and you are opening a whole new world for me!” (she studies voice currently at the university as well) We kept going and finally I had her sing “Misty” through applying what we had worked on. I as the listener was transported to another world. Her voice told a version of a story that I had not heard before, her own story, and it moved me and gave me chills.

We sat down for dinner and she told me stories of her teachers, a Mongolian woman who specialized in singing “Bossa” who is also fluent in the Mongolian vocal traditions and regularly includes them in her music, and a gypsy woman who has a voice the size of a house, who taught not with methods but with emotion. During dinner we also discovered our mutual love of biology, she is an actual molecular biologist and I just have a degree in it. Interesting how the sciences and music tend to blend together.

After dinner, we finished by working on some of our scatting and we really got somewhere! I showed her some of the most fun, weird, but also most effective exercises I had learned to work on the craft and she really took them on as her own.

What touched me most was the end of the lesson. She thanked me and told me I had completely opened her eyes to a new way of thinking about this music. And then she began to cry. She had told me this was one of the most amazing nights she had had in a very long time. Life had been hard. She thanked me for being a light. I did not think what I did was of much importance, but I was humbled at that moment with this human moment. The healing power of music and love of music was made clear in that instance. We ended with a selfie and a walk to the station. I know she and I will talk again and share more music together. Eva, if you are reading this, thank you.

“Be open to new connections and the connection’s connections” ~ Pippo