Sean Dietrich Blog

Elvis Can Suck It

2010-07-07T11:02:00.001-07:00

In a battle between Nat King Cole, and Elvis Aaron Presley, Nat Cole wins as the real King. Let me just state that. Elvis, and his plastic guitar, can eat gravel and bark at the moon. Compared to Cole, Elvis couldn't sing his way out of a puddle of turkey poo.

Nat's music is American contribution to the delicate creation of advanced art. Sweden has ABBA, Germany has David Hasselhoff (God knows they can have him), but we Americans have Nat.

Cole influenced a score of piano players. Nat Cole was a respected pianist before he was even recognized as a singer. He swung hard, and played with fierce attack. Bill Evans himself cites Cole as the initial influence on his own career. And anyone reading this god-awful, slanted blog knows that Evans is royalty in this neck of the online woods.

Now for the plug. On July 27th, Panama City, the trio is doing a tribute concert of Nat King Cole, sponsored by the Gulf Jazz Society.

Shhhh... Recording in Progress

2010-07-05T16:09:00.000-07:00

That's what I've had to lovingly say to my 3 big dogs. They whine outside of my office, worried because I am locked away in my tiny office. They worry, because being holed up in a little stuffy room, for them, isn't good news. At all. "Crap. Delete take three, I think I heard Boone wimpering outside the door again. I'm about to go beat some dogs." Of course, then I end up giving out massages to each of them. Can't have favorites. Wouldn't be right.

Such is life inside the home-studio.

We've got too many things in this house. Too much fur. Too many animals. Far too many books. Useless antiques in every corner, the curse of flea-market addicts. I rearrange the little office, positioning mic stands. Weaving my way through cords. It's a big hairy deal.

Above is a snippet of the recording going on in Dietrich Studios Inc. We record all the major stars here at the Dietrich's. On our DVR, that is.

Plan B

2010-07-04T10:16:00.000-07:00

After church, the core group of pathetic Godless liberals stand around. A peer group of which I am a carrying member. I reel out painfully average jokes, and rouse courtesy laughter from the circle. I get to pretend, for a brief 15 minutes, that I am part of the proverbial in-crowd. I'm really just a nerd. But it makes me smile nonetheless. The conversation eventually takes a drift into the area of the current local fudge. The oil.

We talk about more than oil though. Michael Granberry gets to talking about communal living. Jamie mentions something about nudism. Ronnie recommends a good movie, while I attempt an artful useage the f-bomb. We talk about dolphins, beer, and what it would be like if Michael were elected as sheriff.

And so, on this fourth of July, I wonder what's going to happen when our home turns into a ghost town? Tourism is dying. The Gulf is ill. The humble fishing village is no more. Local residents, rolling around the possibility of leaving Dodge. We all struggle to formulate our plan B. Plan C. I still haven't come up with a plan A yet.

Oil, oil, & oil

2010-06-21T13:06:00.000-07:00

It's coming. That's certain. Oil.

A frolic on the beach proved sticky for Jamie D. Jamie was forced to wipe the crude sludge off her feet with Pine-Sol. Oddly, there are cannisters of Pine-Sol and rolls of paper towels on many of the NWF beaches, provided as a courtesy.

The oil texture is similar to pine sap. Meaning, it bonds to skin tighter than super glue, and it has a long-suffering property to it. Withstanding steel wool, sand paper, and hand grenades.

So Jamie and I treked up to Appalachicola this weekend to enjoy the local flavor one last time, before it's all totally engulfed in BP's god-forsaken slime. While in Appalach, we saw hundreds of swabbies signing up for HASMAT training, preparing for the worst.

What are we going to do? Let me say that again. What in the Sam-Hell are we going to do? Everyone in this area relies on tourism. Without tourism to provide us with the Monopoly money we need, we're done for.

No More Shaking Hands... Ever.

2010-06-17T10:37:00.000-07:00

As a pianist, I train the phalanges on these two appendages located at the end of my arms. My hands. Everyday I train them actually. I strive for flexibility, strength, endurance, and overall health. I'm anal about it too. Carpel tunnel could end my career in one swift swoop of terror.

So, imagine my despair when I am suddenly afflicted with an ugly hand rash on both hands. Bubbly, moist, and stretching all the way to the tips of my fingers.

After ridding myself of evil thoughts, thoughts of me running into oncoming traffic to end this charade of living, I decided to wait this tragedy out.

Every now and then, I'd glance down at my alligator hands, and just about cry. And yet somehow, I managed to play every night almost, having a full schedule this past week of work.

Now that my "Job-ishly Biblical" test has dissipated. I've decided that I am done shaking anyone's hand. From now on.

If you see me, and feel like touching me in a ritualistic social salutation, give me a thumbs up instead. :)

Keep Up With Thee, Thine Feeble Legs!

2010-06-03T07:40:00.001-07:00

I charge my feet to keep up with the rest of my body, because I am running in all directions it seems.

Still working on the Airstream, slowly. Also have taken on a few side projects for other people. I won't talk about those. Smile. Many of you already know that I've been writing for AllAboutJazz.com, and so that has been like a form of meditation almost. And of course, I manage my schedule of playing music down here in the great Southern coast of the panhandle, as well as the trio's bookings. Though, I'm not sure how much longer musicians will be in demand when balloon sized tar balls start washing up on the beach from the oil spill.

I've been fortunate though, and have had opportunities to do some really nice interviews for the AAJ online magazine. And just recently began writing a column for the magazine called "Unsung Heroes". Looking forward to that.

Going through the massive database that is AAJ, I wonder how anyone could think that Jazz is breathing slowly. The organism of jazz is alive and cussing. Just not on American Idol. I know that as long as I'm able to move my own fingers, there'll be a lot of sound jumping out of my personal piano.

Davey Jones: R.I.P

2010-04-29T15:24:00.000-07:00

I remember first seeing Davey play at church. Eyes closed, and looking very frail, Davey played a raggedy old upright bass that survived 2 car wrecks, and 60 years of playing. He bought the bass at 15 years of age, when he switched from the tuba to the string bass.

I met Davey through a mutual friend. I pursued Davey, because I wanted to learn. I wanted to learn the theory, the material, the genre. I wanted to be a part of the Jazz brotherhood, and all that it meant. Davey was a professor of music composition from Auburn University back in his day, although you'd never know it to look at him. He was an elderly hippy if I ever saw one.

Davey's small apartment was a cluster of heady books, a hefty classical record collection, and upright basses in the corners and on the floor. An old piano near the window was litered with compositions by Bartok, and Stravinsky. The room reaked of cigarette smoke and old paper.

He told me, rather firmly, that he wanted nothing to do with me if I didn't put in hard work. Davey lost his temper quite easily. I smile now. Davey was just being Davey. He gave me a chart for "Come Rain or Come Shine" to learn. And I learned it that night. I was determined to show Davey that he had never met anyone who would work as hard, or as long, as I.

Every Monday and Wednesday I was at Davey's apartment at 3:00pm to play. I worked tirelessly on a new tune every week. And listened to hundreds of albums that Davey would introduce me to. Everyone from Goodman, and Miles, to Eric Dolphy, and Roland Hannah.

Each one of our playing "sessions" began and ended the same way. We'd start by playing a blues tune. Then progress onto difficult material that that I was then learning. Tunes like Donna Lee, Giant Steps, Falling Grace, Nardis. And then we'd finish by listening to an entire classical composition on his Hi Fi record player, while he reclined, closed his eyes, and smoked his Winstons. And then he would send me along with homework. A new tune to learn, classical music to study, and a different jazz album to listen to.

We played gigs together. And he was the first bassist in my first trio. Davey showed up to each gig with a cap and sunglasses on, looking like Dizzy Gillespe. And he always swung on that old bass of his. I gradually became a different kind of player over the 2 years that I studied with Davey. My taste began to change. My standards got higher as I saturated myself with the music of Bill Evans. I developed enough confidence to feel comfortable calling myself a humble jazz musician. I quit playing all other music, but the standards.

The impact that Davey had on my life was notable. And even though he is gone now. Davey will always be swinging. Swinging hard. Somewhere. This song is for Davey, since it is among the first tunes I the trio played.

3 Gig Sunday -- With a Cherry on Top Please

2010-04-11T18:34:00.000-07:00

Once the season hits here in sunny Florida, things get rompin'. The trio has been working, what feels like, non-stop. This is the second Sunday in a row where there have been 3 gigs squeezed into the day at hand. And as I type this, I feel like my ears are going to fall off.

However, we are talking about art form here. My art. The skill that I have spent a large portion of my life-force hedging into shape. I am so proud of the group, and the giant strides we have made since we began years ago. We are exploring new things each time we play, and growing in more ways than one.

Today I played in Seagrove during the morning, and then 2 gigs, back to back, in Rosemary Beach. I've consumed more coffee than ought to be legally allowed, and now I am experiencing a considerable nervous system crash.

Is it worth it? You better believe it.

Where To Put the Canvas?

2010-04-07T08:20:00.000-07:00

Does setting matter?

I wonder, can a painter enter into his or her special mind-space if he or she is placed in a grunged public restroom? What about a poet? Could an lyricist feel the dynamic range of personal expression in a broom closet?

I'd say, for the majority of the time, it's hard to draw satisfying creative energy from a dismal setting.

Enter the musician. Imagine if you will, a music man. He finds himself confined within a dreary space, where laughter and clinking bar glasses dominate the soundwaves. A space where inhebriated individuals bellow their opinionated gambits sharply. A place where sensitivity has been trampled on. Can this music man create something beautiful in this environment?

Pics From Escape to Create Event

2010-02-04T12:38:00.000-08:00

Synaesthesia: A Remarkable Quirk

2010-02-03T16:52:00.000-08:00

The doc told me a long time ago that I had synaesthesia. It is just a fancy name for being nuts. So I guess I am certifiable.

Actually the following is a proper definition for the condition of synaesthesia:

"Synaesthesia is a perceptual condition of mixed sensations: a stimulus in one sensory modality (e.g., hearing) involuntarily elicits a sensation/experience in another modality (e.g. vision). Likewise, perception of a form (e.g., a letter) may induce an unusual perception in the same modality (e.g. a color)."

In short, I see color when I hear music, words, numbers, or letters. I really do see colors. I was talking about it with Jamie, and I thought it would be a cool topic for the blog. Being that I am an effing narcissist. But before you check out and think of me as a total nut job, let me prove how nutty I really am before you go.

The note C is red, D is purple, E is yellow, F is dark purple, G is orange, A is deep red, B is green, and so on. When I hear chords there are also colorful things going on. Almost like swirls. When I hear a C minor seventh chord, I see a swirling red and orange, with flecks of green and blue. Or when I hear a F major seventh, there are deep purples and blues with tiny hints of yellow stars. Gettin' weird enough for you yet? Well, then quit reading and get the hail out of here.

I didn't realize that I was this way until I was in 6th grade. The teacher realized that every letter, number, word, day of the week, or month name was directly linked to a color in my special little mind. July is blue, the number four is yellow, the letter J is dark blue, and Wednesday is orange. She had seen a "60 Minutes" special on synaesthesia and wanted to see if anyone in her class was a freak. Turns out there was a bonified red headed freak sitting on the front row, right between Amy Hamilton, and Tara Wallace -- who, by the, were not as impressed with my brilliant diagnosis as I wanted them to be.

Anyway, the whole thing is fascinating to me. Especially to read about other people on the Internet who have the same experiences happening inside their brains. Because to be honest, I don't ever think about synaesthesia, it's just the way things have been since I was born. I just wanted to utilize this opportunity to pat myself of the back for being so sanctify-ably special. But hey, it's my friggin' blog, I can say what I want -- I think.

And Now I Will Make Myself Reappear...

2009-12-17T20:47:00.000-08:00

I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. I was just neglecting my blog like a lazy man with a garden.

But I have kept myself busy mind you. Jamie's project is getting closer every day if I could quit wasting my time tracking down Airstream parts that have not been manufactured since the 1960s.

Then my computer went down. I was forced to use Jamie's SLOW laptop to update my facebook status, and I eneded up only using the computer for 10 minutes at a time every day. It's amazing how much you can get done when you are not online. I've been building tables, butcher blocks, instrument cases, helping Jamie cook for clients, helping organize some of her party events, playing a good amount at night for the off season, visiting mother in Atlanta, tracking down parts for the Airstream, sealing walls, wire brushing, painting the interior, beating my hands up, scheduling plumbers, electricians, changing tires, replacing outside brake lights, building counter tops, buying Christmas gifts, repairing a vital keyboards, medicating my dogs, building signs, oh yeah and sleeping.

Nah, I am making it sound worse than it is. I enjoy the diverse mix of tasks to complete. But now that my PC is back in the saddle I am rocked and ready for battle. There is much more to be done, but it's all in good fun!

Why I Smoke a Pipe: By Phil Webb

2009-10-22T08:11:00.000-07:00

This is an article by Phil Webb about the gentle art of pipe smoking. I found it to be very nicely written. People have many different hang-ups about pipe smoking, but this article presents a different view on the very aromatic pastime.

I suppose the "Why" of pipe smoking should first be preceded by the "How" of why I smoke a pipe.

I got started in 1996. I had been a tobacco "chewer". I would go through about 2 bags of Beech-Nut Wintergreen Chew per day. After several years of this, my wife "encouraged" me to quit chewing with several admonitions usually containing the words "nasty, filthy, stinky" and/or "disgusting". At one point she suggested I take up pipe smoking as an alternative.

Some months later I was on a solo trip to Wal-Mart for some trinket or another and realized I had ten extra dollars with me. "Just for giggles" I thought, "why don't I find out how much a pipe would cost?" Lo and behold, there was a small, bent Dr. Grabow pipe, in all its lustrous blister-packed glory, and it was a measly $6.98. A small package of some generic Vanilla Cavendish (promising to smoke coolly, gently and flavorfully) was another $1.99 and for a paltry eight dollars and ninety-seven cents, I was on my way.

One Grabow gave way to another, and then another, and then I discovered my local tobacconist. Upon arriving there, I saw laid out before me a collection of pipes and tobacciana that gave rise to several things. Firstly, at that moment I realized that "it had to be better". Obviously, if pipe smoking hurt so bad, no one would pay "X hundred" dollars for a pipe. If there wasn't a demand for more and better flavors of tobacco, there wouldn't be 30-odd flavors laid out here and there was then hope that I wouldn't be condemned to forever smoking combinations of black, vanilla, cherry or whiskey cavendish, none of which I liked and none of the possible combinations seemed to offer much hope.

It was also at that moment I stepped from being a strict neophyte to being a "professional amateur". It was at that moment I determined to become better. A better pipe smoker for sure, but by extension a better person.

I have no appreciable history of pipe smoking in my family. Neither my mother nor my father is, (or was) a smoker of any kind, save a very brief period where for some few months my father smoked a pipe. The only evidence of this is a short section of home movie that shows my father walking out the back door of a house with an apparently unlit, straight billiard pipe in his mouth. I would have been less than one year old. None of my grandparents smoke, although my maternal grandfather quit smoking cigarettes sometime in the early 1940's.

So there is the history, so now, why? Why do I smoke a pipe when all the evidence would seem to be against me? When "The Research" says I am facing an eminent and horrible demise? When at the very least, it is Un-Cool (being as I am at the age where I am told in order to succeed I must fit in as I am too old to be "eager" and too young to be "experienced").

I smoke a pipe because it brings out something good in me. Pipe smokers are looked on as generally kind and benevolent. Grandfatherly if you will. I have found this to be quite true. I have yet to meet a pipe smoker who is arrogant or full of himself. I have yet to meet the pipe smoker who knows all there is to know about smoking a pipe. I have yet to meet the pipe smoker who is unwilling to help out with gentle instruction and encouragement when asked. So, I am doing my best to live up to the example that is set before me, and to become an example to others, that they may find themselves as welcomed as I have been.

I smoke a pipe because it is a tie to others greater than I, from the past. I will never be known as a great mind, such as Einstein or Bohr (or even Holmes) nor a great writer such as Clemens, but were I able to meet them, we could talk for hours about pipes and thus build a bridge across the vast depths of humanity.

I smoke a pipe because it is a tie to others greater than I in the present. I have met so many great people through this avocation and because of them; my life is so much the richer. I have met co-workers who are pipe smokers and am privileged to count them among my friends. I have met other pipe smokers as customers and my life has been enriched by my encounter with them, as I hope theirs has been with me. Through face to face interaction in the store where I work, and through electronic communication, I have met many great people whom I have asked questions of, and answered questions from. My life has been enriched by people who have names like Beard, Follodor, Paden and Manadily and "handles" like Birmingham Bob, Ming-Kahuna and Colonel Panic. While I may not agree with them all the time (or sometimes even often) my horizons are expanded, my knowledge is greater, and my life richer for having met them. To think, all this from a few ounces of an obscure wood, a "bit" of rubber or plastic and a pinch of a shredded leaf.

I smoke a pipe because it is my hope to be a tie to the future. I hope to be the kind of man that is looked on favorably by future generations, and if I am remembered as a "typical pipe smoker" so much the better.

I smoker a pipe because it is, well, a bit eccentric. Two men I admire greatly are known for "going against the grain". C.S. Lewis while making no bones about his faith and beliefs also made no secret of the fact that he enjoyed a good drink and a cigar, much to the consternation of many modern evangelicals. Francis Schaeffer, probably one of the (if not the) greatest thinkers at the end of the 20th century enjoyed a glass of sherry after his evening meals whilst discussing the philosophy of the day with his students at L'Abri, profoundly confusing those who equate piousness and asceticism with belief and obedience. While smoking a pipe will not make me a great thinker (although it does help set aside time to think) it does, in a way that is tangible at least to me, provide a link to men whose thoughts I admire and to whose greatness I aspire.

I smoke a pipe because in pipes and tobacco I see art. It is, to borrow a phrase, "Art that works". Unlike a painting or sculpture, beautiful or profound as it may be, I can't carry it with me throughout my day to enjoy at will. While that singular detachment may enhance the value and appreciation of a given piece of art, the opposite is true of my pipe. Whether it is a modern master such as a Tinsky, Talbert or Nording, a past master such as Holm or even a virtual untouchable such as a Bang, I have the ability to carry it in my hand and appreciate the care, craftsmanship, skill and even the love expressed in a simple block of briar. I can see the personality of the craftsman, whether it is his faithful recreation of a classic billiard or his wildest imagination in the most unlikely looking freehand. Whether my taste in a given day runs from a classic serene "Monet" to the profoundly and invigoratingly abrasive "Giger", I can carry my art with me anywhere and enjoy it in any activity I may be engaged in. The art I most enjoy is also multi sensory. Through taste and smell, I can enjoy the handiwork of many, be they Gregory Pease, The McNeil’s or even companies with names like Orlik and Davidoff. Through my own choices and moods, my art changes and grows through combination of leaf and briar, unlike any other. Once painted, once sculpted, once composed and recorded, that piece is timeless in its static nature. Through my pipe, I enjoy art that is forever changing, to be savored only once in the moment, never to be exactly re-created.

I smoke a pipe because it is a tie to a past that will never be seen again. To a day when it was possible to see Lawrence of Arabia in all its glory on the big screen and enjoy a pipe at the same time. To a time when I may have been able to watch "Murderers Row" at the ballpark while feeling the warmth of a lit pipe in my hand on a cool autumn afternoon. To a "Norman Rockwell" existence that may have never existed, but I can still long for. Some may indeed say it never existed, but I can taste it in my pipe, and smell its sweet aroma in its smoke.

I smoke a pipe in the hope that one day I will be the kind, gentlemanly grandfather, teaching my grandson the finer points of whittling, fishing and hunting or bicycle riding, telling the story of the year McGwire broke the record and explaining what a "Television" was and why we spent so much time in front of one.

I smoke a pipe in the hope that one day I will be both a father and a daddy to my son, teaching him to hit and catch, to be a gentleman and to respect a lady, to support him whether he chooses to learn football or opera, whether he chooses to be a doctor or a truck driver, or even a lawyer. It is my sincere desire that when the time comes and he is of age, I can pass my art and avocation on to him, and in that smoke and briar, he will be reminded of who I was, and who he can be.

I smoke a pipe in the hope that one day I will be both a father and daddy to my daughter, teaching her through my example what to expect in a man, to offer her protection and security, and to encourage her to leave my security and protection and build her own. It is my hope that one day she will find a mate who will provide for her, challenge her, cause her to grow, and who she will challenge and cause to grow. It is my desire that when, in later days she smells a pipe, that she will again be reminded, comforted and challenged, that she will be reminded of who I was, and who she can be.

I smoke a pipe in the hope that one day my children, grandchildren and friends will walk by someone or someplace and smell the burning leaf and seek out its owner and not curse or revile him, but thank him for reminding them of a person who was both wise and fun, strong and gentle and a source of richness and enjoyment in their life, that that memory would be of me.

Why do I smoke a pipe? I shall tell you. Because I am a Pipe Smoker.

The Sound of Trees: by Robert Frost

2009-10-21T10:10:00.000-07:00

I wonder about the trees.
Why do we wish to bear
Forever the noise of these
More than another noise
So close to our dwelling place?
We suffer them by the day
Till we lose all measure of pace,
And fixity in our joys,
And acquire a listening air.
They are that that talks of going
But never gets away;
And that talks no less for knowing,
As it grows wiser and older,
That now it means to stay.
My feet tug at the floor
And my head sways to my shoulder
Sometimes when I watch trees sway,
From the window or the door.
I shall set forth for somewhere,
I shall make the reckless choice
Some day when they are in voice
And tossing so as to scare
The white clouds over them on.
I shall have less to say,
But I shall be gone.

Melodica (not just for kids)

2009-10-06T06:33:00.000-07:00

I have been having a blast with my new Melodica. It's got 32 piano keys, and makes a harmonica sound when you blow in it. It's part harmonica part accordion part piano. As soon as it came out of the box, I realized there would be NO learning curve, due to it's piano keys. So this is the first instrument I have been able to wail on the first time my hands touched it.

When I was a kid, how I wanted to be able to pick up a sax and just play like Cannonball Adderly, but it didn't work that way. With this thing, I've already put in the hours to be able to express myself on the keyboard, and so I annoyed everyone in my house.

It is reminiscent of Toots Theilemans in a way. I was playing around with the theme song from Sesame Street yesterday (which he wrote). I was also messing with the melody from the theme song from the Office. You'd be surprised how often you've heard this instrument and didn't know it. It's also on many of the Spongebob episodes, since it sounds nautical/Irish when played like a concertina. But I have chosen to use it in the Toots Theilemans fashion, for jazz.

Here is a song I recorded with the Melodica and the piano. Darn That Dream, which is also one of the first jazz tunes I learned when I was younger.

It Is Well With My Soul

2009-09-10T12:02:00.000-07:00

There is a beautiful story behind the hymn "It Is Well With My Soul." I stayed up until about 2:00 in the morning playing it last night to myself, and decided to record some of my musical driftings. Anyway, the history behind the hymn is really moving:

IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL:

This hymn was written after several traumatic events in Spafford’s life. The first was the death of his only son in 1871, shortly followed by the great Chicago Fire which ruined him financially (he had been a successful lawyer). Then in 1873, he had planned to travel to Europe with his family on the S.S. Ville du Havre, but sent the family ahead while he was delayed on business concerning zoning problems following the Great Chicago Fire. While crossing the Atlantic, the ship sank rapidly after a collision with a sailing ship, the Loch Earn, and all four of Spafford's daughters died. His wife Anna survived and sent him the now famous telegram, "Saved alone." Shortly afterwards, as Spafford traveled to meet his grieving wife, he was inspired to write these words as his ship passed near where his daughters had died.

Bliss called his tune Ville du Havre, from the name of the stricken vessel.[1]

The Spaffords later had three more children, one of whom (a son) died in infancy. In 1881 the Spaffords, including baby Bertha and newborn Grace, set sail for Palestine. The Spaffords moved to Jerusalem and helped found a group called the American Colony; its mission was to serve the poor. The colony later became the subject of the Nobel prize winning Jerusalem, by Swedish novelist Selma Lagerlöf.

Sept 4th Art Exhibit @ Rosemary

2009-09-03T14:17:00.001-07:00

The trio is playing at Amavida in Rosemary beach on September 4th from 5:30pm-8:30pm.

Come visit with the good people at Amavida in Rosemary Beach for the New Perspectives fine art exhibit. A collection of artists will be presenting a fresh take on familiar subjects that are often refused by modern society. The Sean Dietrich trio will be there for the event, and that means you should be there too!

Still Life Per Day: Find the Time

2009-08-27T21:35:00.000-07:00

It's hard to find the time to keep doing the stills. I have been... how do I put this?... busy! But late at night after I have put in a full day, I can cut the cardboard from the old "HP" box in the garage, and wave my hand at a little still life. So tranquil.

So here are a few from the last couple days. I have been painting still, but experimenting with quickly applied blotches of color, rather than a slower meticulous pace. I am aiming for less blending on the painting, and trying to get more into the method of applying contrasting colors next to one another. This is supposed to let the eyes do the blending when they see the colors. I haven't quite figured all the details out about doing this, but I am trying to move in this direction.

Still Life Per Day: My Tetsubin

2009-08-23T23:57:00.000-07:00

I went by and chilled with Jonah Sage while he played at Amavida Coffee in Seaside. I passed him while running on 30A. Quickly ran home to shower, then came back up to see him play. I ended up sitting in with him and playing a few of his tunes. Nice crowd gathered to hear him, and he did great. I think everyone liked his rendition of a Bon Jovi song the best.

It's a challenge to find good objects to paint within the house. I guess I need to abandon the "special" object theory, and stick with "ordinary" things like I have been. These aren't masterpieces by any means. This is my tetsubin, which I drink much green tea from.

Still Life Per Day: In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning

2009-08-22T10:42:00.000-07:00

The trio had a great time playing at Cabaret in Pensacola. What a big crowd that place caters to. You can't beat playing a real piano either. There are so few places in this modern world to play an acoustic grand, with the trio, that I am always delighted to do so.

The only problem for me was the 20,000 cubic feet of cigarette smoke trapped in the room. My throat burned through the whole night. I felt like I was smoking every cigar and cigarette in the house. And I am a hairy guy, and hairy guys absorb odors. You know where I am going with this. My beard, mane, chest hair, arm hair, clothes, and shoes all smelt like Marlboro. 2 showers, 4 shampoos later, life was okay.

By the time Jamie and I got home, she was already fast asleep in the car. She hit the bed almost the moment we came through the door, and I hit the shower to exercise the tobacco demons. Then I got online to nurture my facebook and hot blueberry tea addiction.

And a commitment is a commitment. I commited to painting a still life per day, and I didn't have one for yesterday, so there I was at 3:00am in the morning painting a small, "less involved" still life of a crumpled up 5 dollar bill that someone put in the tip jar for playing "Old Devil Moon" when playing at Cabaret that night. I'm going to try to stay disciplined, and complete a painting per day, no matter how small, or terrible. Even if it means that I wake up at noon the next day! Ahhh, the life of an unknown musician.

Still Life Per Day: The Trash

2009-08-20T07:59:00.000-07:00

I was disgusted when this picture just didn't seem to be working out, and so I folded it in a fit of temper, and threw it in the trash and painted something else. But a commitment to painting a still life per day was made, so a little later on, I pulled this one out of the trash, unfolded it, and snapped a shot of it.

I've promised myself that I'm just going to not worry about the painting being the perfect masterpeice, that's not the idea with this concept. I'm going to just paint, enjoy, snap a pic, and then post it, no matter how bad my work sucks.

One Still Life Per Day

2009-08-19T12:25:00.000-07:00

I've decided to start painting one still life per day, as a break from my normal routine, and to relax. It's such a peaceful process, that if I can commit to putting out one small insignificant still life per day, or at at least 3-5 per week, it would do me good.

It's a lot like meditation, with color. I'm going to try this for at least a month and see where it takes me. I'm going to post as many as I can here on the blog.

Artiste Pathetique

2009-08-17T13:53:00.000-07:00

Most of the people who know me, know about my love of art. I have carried around a sketch book for the majority of my life. Begining when I was in the 1st grade. My bedroom, growing up resembled a crazy person's lair. On top of my piano were all of my most recent paintings. When I was 17, I worked as a portrait artist doing various portraits of children, familys, etc.

I find enormous gratification studying a subject intensly, and rendering a likeness of it. During the whole process for me, I feel as if I become like a little fly who is roaming around the contours of the subject. Rarely does one notice the subtle reflections of colored light throughout the daily routine.

My Tetsubin

2009-08-15T09:09:00.001-07:00

I am hopelessly hooked on the green tea now. I use about 2 bags per day. The first one I use in the morning, and then keep reusing the same tea bag until after dinner, and then I get another.

Green tea has about 1/10th the caffeine content of a cup of Starbucks coffee, and is packed with health benefits. Green tea is used by many the Asian population to prevent everything from heart attacks to tooth decay and skin problems.

Enter my tetsubin. I have had my tetsubin (cast iron teapot) for 2 years now. Jamie bought it for me one Christmas, and I have enjoyed a different, more sophisticated, tea experience since.

The tetsubin is really all about the "act" of making and enjoying tea. As water begins to boil on the stove, I remove a handful of dried tea from a bag that has Chinese symbols on it, and stuff it in to the metal filter in the tetsubin. Then I pour the water over the tea mixture and fill the pot. It sits for about 2 minutes, and then I pour green tea into my ceramic tea cup, and the greenish color of the tea seems to almost glow.

Robert Frost: Reluctance

2009-08-13T09:18:00.000-07:00

I am a Robert Frost fan. His work conjures up a very specific "feeling" for me. Pictures of rural America, where I grew up, are all throughout his poems. Images of another time, another world really. He didn't finish college, but won 4 Pulitzer prizes. He was a jack-of-trades, working as a cobbler, farmer, mill-worker, teacher, and, of course a writer. He lived in Lawrence, Massachusetts, which happens to be the sister city to Lawrence, Kansas, where my family comes from.

The following poem is a special one to me, especially the last few verses.

RELUCTANCE
Robert Frost

Out through the fields and the woods
And over the walls I have wended;
I have climbed the hills of view
And looked at the world, and descended;
I have come by the highway home,
And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,
Save those that the oak is keeping
To ravel them one by one
And let them go scraping and creeping
Out over the crusted snow,
When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last lone aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch-hazel wither;
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the feet question 'Whither?'

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?

A Midnight Runner's High

2009-08-03T22:48:00.001-07:00

Went for a short run outside tonight after the gig. It was 11:30pm. Strapped on the FiveFinger shoes, and hit the road with my arm-band GPS, a cell phone, and a small LED headlight. It was a pleasant run. The kind of run that makes me remember why I fell in love with running. As I enter this blog post into the oblivion, I am enjoying the too often mis-understood "runner's high."

People sometimes tell me that they have tried to experience the high runners get, but it didn't work out during their 2 tries, and so they gave up.

I think part of the "high" has to do with why the one is running in the first place. If one is running out of compulsion, then I don't think there is going to be any thrill. It will be torture. But if one is running out of a desire to really live, then the run can be filled with nice experiences. I think this all contributes to the resulting "high".

However, there is also an actual feeling that comes physically, at least for me that is. Right now, after my shower, I am feeling like my skin is soft and cleansed from all the sweating. My mood is content. My legs and feet are completely relaxed and there is some mild euphoria. My body feels loose, and my feet are pleasantly worked.

It's a unique feeling all it's own, hard to describe, but entirely unique to running for me. Plain vanilla physical labor never leaves me feeling quite like this. Running alone has this unique feeling that comes with it. Maybe it's the way our bodies have adapted through time. Perhaps this is a trait shared by our ancestors. And perhaps when we run, we are tapping into an acient instinct that releases biological responses that make us feel alive. Really alive. Maybe.

Caffeine Detox: Day 5

2009-08-02T18:34:00.000-07:00

I am through the woods. This morning, I felt normal. I went through a few moments of nausea, but all in all, I am a human being again! Glory glory Hallelujah His truth is marching on.

Caffeine is such a wonderful substance, and yet so evil on the body sometimes. I guess I really like having control over feeling awake when I want to. I have always been a slow-waker-upper. Caffeine gave me the ultimate power to perk up in the mornings with record breaking light-speed.

For now, I am taking a break from the java-brew, even though it's smell is tempts me in a seductively coy fashion. And I can safely say that I feel more more balanced since going through the worst of the withdrawals. I feel a stronger sense of equilibrium throughout the day, and I feel as if I am better adjusted to the world. I guess I forgot how happy and lucid the mind can be in it's natural state.

Caffeine Detox: Day 4

2009-08-01T15:29:00.001-07:00

The clouds are breaking. I have had a good day today. Things are good, and I have avoided the brew all together! I am still operating at 75% capacity, but the fog is lifting!

The one thing I have truly noticed about caffeine is it tricks the body into thinking that it doesn't need as much sleep. I have been sleeping like a rock. I'll just lay down in the middle of the day, and be out like a lightning bug in a mayonnaise jar full of sand. Yesterday I took a nap, and woke up 3 hours later. I am feeling a bit tired now, and might go take a snooze.

I know that sleep is ultimately important and can control the quality of mood, sense of well-being, etc. I guess I have been running low for quite some time. I will be examining this subject, and trying to fit in more sleep than I have been.

So I think I am through the worst of the caffeine withdrawals. Not totally through the woods yet, but getting closer to grandma's house.

Caffeine Detox: Day 3

2009-07-31T11:51:00.000-07:00

I still feel like I am in a fog. Only it feels as if the clouds are lifting somewhat. I have been saturating myself with herbal teas all day. I try not to go anywhere without a mug of hot tea. It helps, even if it is only in my mind, Lord knows I am always in the bathroom!

The headache has arrived. I am feeling the pounding nice and strong now. The nausea isn't bad now. I felt a little bit this morning, but for the most part, that's gone.

Due to the headache, I truly want to get a small cup of instant coffee just to make it go away. I might crack and have a teensie-weensie cup of Joe to relieve the head pain.

All in all, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Once the withdrawals are through, I will be avoiding over-indulgence with the coffee bean.

Caffeine Detox: Day 2

2009-07-30T16:56:00.000-07:00

I am operating at 50% capacity on this hellish day. My body goes through moments of nausea, and then into a euphoria. Sometimes I want to sleep, and others my body feels hot and feverish.

Last night at the gig, Cindy McBrayer saved my life by bringing me a red-eye coffee. That cup still brought me in WAY under my normal tally of coffee per day, but that blessed cup still gave me the sensation of warmth and love that I needed to get me through.

That's when I decided to scrap my original plan, and attack this issue with full-on ignorant intensity. No more weening for me. I am going cold turkey.

Today marks the first day with no coffee, and I have been to the gates of Hell my friends. There in the pit, as the demons gnawed on my tender flesh, I looked up and saw the shining green and white angel-saint from Our Lady of The Sacred Starbuck's. Alas, but she could not reach me! Behold, I sink deeper and deeper still into the abyss! Her glowing face fading farther and farther from view. I don't know whether to cry or clap.

Caffeine Detox: Day 1

2009-07-29T13:09:00.000-07:00

Wow... it feels like the world has all taken turns kicking my butt.

Not only am I drained, and do I feel like someone didn't leave me plugged into the wall outlet long enough to get completely charged, my motor skills are off. While practicing piano or guitar, my fingers are not responding in the ways I command them to. I don't have the headache yet, I am sure it's on it's way though.

Today I have had green tea, majorly diluted, until it's coming out my ears. I had the first cup of coffee for lunch. Then took a power nap for an hour and a half. I peeled myslef out of the bed and oiled my joints with some WD-40 and drank some more green tea.

I will have a cup before the gig tonight, and possibly one more cup if I am feeling like the tin man in a salt water flash-flood.

Caffeine Addiction: I'm Putting An End To This

2009-07-28T11:34:00.001-07:00

While we were in Georgia over the weekend for Ronnie's book signing and promotional tour, I had a startling confrontation with my caffeine addiction. I have degenerated into the point where I survive from one cup of brew to the next. I, like so many others, have spiralled downward and am hopelessly addicted to the ultimate Judeo-Christian drug of choice.

Last semester I got into the habit of drinking instant coffee, and that was a euphoric rush. I've gotten to the point to where I nurse a cup all day long while working, studying, etc.

So this must end. I've been hooked on the brew before, and I've come off before. When I was 18, I had a pretty bad coffee habit. Drinking a couple thermoses per day. I came off of it, and thought I was going to die. Actually, before last semester I wouldn't touch the black brew for years, and was only drinking green tea.

Now I drink about 9-12 cups per day. My plan is to reduce it by 2 cups per every 4-5 days until I am off it. I will be supplementing the process with green tea for now, and eventually will be moving to herbal teas. I'll keep everyone updated, because this is going to SUCK!

J.S. Bach: God of Harmony

2009-07-14T08:13:00.000-07:00

I have been rediscovering the music of Bach, and observing it from a student of music's perspective. His understanding and manipulation of sound is so straight forward, and yet so unmistakably original.

Here are a few quotes about Bach:

"The immortal god of harmony"
-- Ludwig van Beethoven

"The most stupendous miracle in all music"
-- Richard Wagner

"Study Bach: there you will find everything"
-- Johannes Brahms

"To strip human nature until its divine attributes are made clear, to inform ordinary activities with spiritual fervor, to give wings of eternity to that which is most ephemeral; to make divine things human and human things divine; such is Bach, the greatest and purest moment in music of all time"
-- Pablo Casals

"O you happy sons of the North who have been reared at the bosom of Bach, how I envy you"
-- Giuseppe Verdi

"If one were asked to name one musician who came closest to composing without human flaw, I suppose general consensus would choose Johann Sebastian Bach"
-- Aaron Copland

"If Bach is not in Heaven, I am not going!"
-- William F. Buckley

"I would vote for Bach, all of Bach, streamed out into space. But this would be bragging"
-- Biologist Lewis Thomas, on what message to send to an extraterrestrial civilization

"Bach almost persuades me to be a Christian"
-- Roger Fry

"Why waste money on psychotherapy when you can listen to the B Minor Mass?"
-- Michael Torke

"There's no mathematics without Bach"
-- Mathematics Professor at the University of Crete

It's been said that there are two kinds of music: The music of Johann Sebastian Bach and everything else. His music will forever be the first and final frontier. Nobody ever will be able to transcend what Johann Sebastian has created in terms of music nor will there be any higher pleasure than actually listening to and/or playing his music.

Bach's music has a strange property: If you understand it, you automatically understand and can judge all other kinds of music, but the reverse is not true: You may not necessarily understand his music if you understand only a different kind of music. Therefore, one can claim with certainty that "I understand music" is virtually synonymous to "I understand BACH's music". Because Bach's music has influenced the entire realm of Western music. From hymns, to jazz, to Buddy Holly. And I hate Buddy Holly!

This implies a sort of transcendent universality which only exists with his music. It is therefore not a coincidence that Bach has been called The Father of All Music and The Immortal God of Harmony.

It appears that Bach was among the few composers who managed to "connect" directly to The Source of Everything, whatever this Source was or may be. This man's mind must have been immersed in harmony, 24 hours a day.

Like a Band of Gypsies

2009-07-11T08:18:00.000-07:00

So yesterday consisted of "being" a gypsy. Filmmaker Bala Boyd from Gypsy House Productions has been shooting his video footage for a new gypsy piece. Imagine walking on to a filming location and entering another world of traveling poets and minstrels. Imagine being buried deep in the heart of the woods where a band of reclusive wanderers live out their simple existences. A world where gypsies rule and thrive.

Jamie and I arrived there yesterday morning, to a giant pot of hot coffee, and a room full of gypsy crap. Upright basses, bracelets, mandolins, metal hoop earrings, handkerchiefs, eye-liner, guitars, flowing skirts, and beads were everywhere. Once wardrobe suited us up, and make-up got us all pretty, it was out to the set to film in the heat and sweat all our make-up off.

I served as the resident accordion player, which is a crying shame, because all I can do on the accordion is keep a semi-steady pulse, but who cares? No one will actually hear my accordion chops.

After a whole day's worth of shooting yesterday, we hung out with Bala, his wife Joni, and their splendid boy-engine Townes. I'm not going to lie, there was pizza involved.

It was a great day, and we've enjoyed being small contributors to Bala's film.

Concert @ Lynn Haven

2009-07-08T05:45:00.000-07:00

Well, it was superb weather, not a single drop of sweat was formed by any memeber of the trio.

After setting up an hour ahead of schedule, Jim and I hit up the local Starbucks for some Joe. When we arrived back, I was amazed to see a small crowd gathered. For some reason, I am used to Destin's, and Santa Rosa Beach's pathetic crowds. Even 4th of July out in Seaside, where Jamie was cooking, was a very light crowd. But last night, for the size of Lynn Haven, they just kept coming! What a shot in the arm for the musicians!

So the trio played for an hour, and then Larry showed up with the wine! Thanks Lar'. Good stuff too! So we packed the cars with our gear, sipping on Larry's vintage, and chatting with Victor, and Gene, then hit the road. Very kind people, lovely weather, and in my opinion good music.

This week, good friend of mine and film maker, Bala Boyd will be shooting a short film on location in the woods. The film sounds like a cool thing, and they've been gearing up for the shoot, with lots of people involved. Another world to me. But film making is certainly an art I respect. Unlike rap, or Buffet-style singing. For the film, I have "composed," if I can use so fancy of a word, the film-score. The tune has a Django R. feeling to it, and I had a good time filling the role of producer/composer, tracking down Matt to play violin for it. Will keep people posted about the film.

Sean Dietrich Trio In Destin Magazine

2009-07-07T08:14:00.001-07:00

Keep an eye peeled for the Sean Dietrich Trio to be featured in Destin Magazine, with an interview conducted by the highly respected Demetrius Fuller from Sinfonia.

The nice photos in the spread were taken by Bala and Joni Boyd who are based out of Freeport, and work all over the local area, and regionally.

I tried to convince them to do a centerfold of me laying on the piano, but it was a no go. :) I think I could have convinced Bala, but Jamie and Joni, as level-headed as they are had a hard time seeing me draped in a bear-skin blanket with a rose stem firmly clasped between my teeth. Oh well.

So keep your eyes open for the article. And if anyone is free tonight, come out to Lynn Haven (off hwy 77) to Sharon Sheffield park and hear the trio play on the green.

Take Out the Trash

2009-07-02T21:22:00.001-07:00

There once was a Southern gentleman who wanted to give a gift to his daughter. He wanted his gift to be very special, so he hired a piano playing singer.

He told the piano player, "I want you to keep this girl of mine very happy by playing piano, and singing, all the time. Don't let a moment go by where there is silence in the home."

So the piano player set his piano up in the den, and set out to play morning, afternoon, and night. After the first few days the young lady was so taken by the continous music that she could hardly contain herself. However, as the days went by she became increasingly tired of the sound of the piano.

So she took the musician by the collar, took the piano too, and put them both in a box outside for the trash man to collect. The End.

Hah ha! This picture is really the result of a bad judgement call on my part. Don't sit on boxes unless you know they can hold you!

Music Without Passion

2009-07-01T05:41:00.001-07:00

I've been reflecting on the idea of how many musicians play music with little, or no passion. I'm talking about good musicians too. Artists who have worked on their craft and become exceptional at handling their axe. The "paid" musician.

It's a rare thing in the world today to find a musician within the inner circle of exceptional players that is infected with passion and creativity it seems. There are so many wonderful players who lack the "Umph" that drives beautiful creativity. Their music is carbon, and their individual voice is indistinguishable from the radio.

What is worse, is that there are so many working musicians who started out with the purity of artistic zeal, but are now ruinned by business side of music. Their insides are spoiled with lukewarmness. No longer is music a means of expressing the innermost longings of the soul, but a method of entertaining. Ultimately there is no expression in their personal music. There is no personal music! The musical heart shrivels up and dies, even though the fingers stay in fantastic flexible shape.

If a music maker doesn't stand guard over his or her gift, it will eventually begin to sour in this world of corruption.

Just a thought.

Trio In Southern Living

2009-06-29T05:53:00.001-07:00

I was just informed that the trio is going to be in Southern Living magazine. A photographer came by and profiled Pandora's restaurant (where we've been on Tuesday nights for the past year) and got side tracked taking shots of the trio playing for a little while. Actually that night we had a horn player with us, Dave from Orlando, so we were a quartet. The proof copy has a pic of the trio, and talks about Tuesday night Jazz at Pandoras. So I'll keep everyone posted about the Southern Living debut.

A few days ago, our drummer and friend Steve Ferry came over and jammed on the vibes for a little while with me on piano. We ran through a few tunes, and played some very fun stuff. He's one of those rare drummers who knows a lot about harmony, and can play a mean vibraphone. Steve is a professor at UWF and a great all around human being, who is also at the top of his trade, for this area's group of drummers. Maybe one night we'll get him to bring out the vibes for a few tunes on the gig!

Tonight, the trio plays at Carillon Beach on the green, for the Groovin' on the Green series. 7-9pm. Come on out and listen to the music, or just come on out to say "Hi" if you get a chance!

Playing Piano on NPR

2009-06-27T20:55:00.000-07:00

My performance from the National Jazz piano competition was selected to be played on NPR for a program highlighting young Jazz pianists in the nation. I'll keep everyone posted on when it is scheduled to air. I wonder if the radio adds 10 pounds to the piano?

Things are getting intense with the Airstream trailer. Jamie's poor little arms must be so tired from holding the huge fiberglass dome (inside the trailer) up so that I could secure it to the interior frame. The thing is starting to look like a work space. The next step is getting the electrical situation taken care of. If this thing is to be a commercial kitchen for Jamie to cook in for chef's purposes, then it's got to be outfitted electrically to support a lot more than a toaster!

Jazz & Night Running

2009-06-24T05:25:00.000-07:00

Most of you know that I am a runner. Check out my narcissistic weathered running blog for more info on that.Actually, a lot of people who I meet already recognize me as the crazy guy running on the side of 98. I guess Destin, and Santa Rosa Beach really are small towns at heart.

But I digress!! I found a blog of a guy who is a man after my own heart. The Jazz Runner. This guy's blog is about jazz and running. While it's true, I am not just a Jazz fan. I am more specifically, an "impressionistic-jazz" fan, in the spirit of Bill Evans, and... uh... just Bill Evans. But all jazz holds a place in my heart, and is unquestionably better than any other music to me. This guy has combined the two in a blog, and I thought I would pass it on.

I hold the sport of distance running tenderly as a minor obsession. And with the heat the way it is lately, the only suitable times for really comfortable running is either in the early morning, or at night. And since I find myself sleeping in from being out playing late, usually, I choose the night running. There is no traffic on the road, it's quiet, and it's cool. Sue me.

Last week, I took a short 7 miler on 98, and there were a few cars who almost made jelly out of me. And I run on the sidewalk! I mean come on! This city is full of cyclists, and beach tourists who are constantly out on the actual roads, surely some respect can be given to a medium-crazy runner who is on the sidewalk!

So if you happen to be out later at night, and spot a night crawler on the side of the road, drive carefully! It might be me!

Jazz, Airstreams, Heat Guns & Coffee

2009-06-22T05:39:00.000-07:00

The weekend has been busy and good. The trio played at Santa Rosa Beach Club on the 20th, and had a great time. The indoor atmosphere is always relaxed and comfortable here, and the room has always had a good sound for a trio.

I have been slowly plugging away at the Airstream. I got some dents out of the exterior body with a rubber mallet, and have taken off EVERY interior panel! My plan is to strip every panel down to the metal underneath the vinyl. So I got a heat gun and a scraper. I thought I would breeze right along melting the vinyl glue with the heat gun and just scooping the old vinyl right off with the scraper. NOPE!

It's long hard gruleing work, and the vinyl from 1969 must've been bonded to the panels with some sort of religious bond that can only be broken under the full moon. A small 3x4 foot panel took me the better part of 3 hours. And I have panels the size of the Titanic still waiting to be scraped. If you want to know what it's like, imagine scraping the paint off a house with a butter knife.

And lastly, I'd like to thank coffee for getting me through the week. Coffee, never asks any questions, he just goes straight to work, and always does what I need him to do. So here's a raise of the mug to you coffee!

Pensacola: Land of the Vegans, and Pizza?

2009-06-20T10:48:00.001-07:00

Most of you know, Jamie is a private chef, and an extreme foodie. When I met her she got off have conversations about consumer-grade vs. commercial-grade steel cutlery. If you got her going on the topic, she'd actually walk over to her knife block and start balancing knives by the handles to illustrate her case and point.

Since we became a vegan household (who also shuns white flour like the devil's one-legged whore), Jamie has intensely studied the vegan side of cooking. An art form completely unique and all it's own. In this universe, typical cooking laws don't apply! No longer does cornstarch fill our needs, it's arrow root. And in this world, "Fakin-Bacon" bits, home-made in her iron skillet out of Texturized Vegetable Protein, are one of our most sinful pleasures.

So Jamie and I kicked around Pensacola for the better half of yesterday with the purpose of visiting her favorite vegan restaurant End of the Line Cafe. The only pure vegan restaurant I know of locally. She enjoys having a conversation about exactly what we plan on ordering 45 minutes before we arrive at the cafe.

Here, in this vegan world, she fits in. We enter the run down building, and she feels right at ease with her "people". We had knuckle sandwiches with tofu. I had the side of quinoa tabouli, and Jamie had the pasta salad. I got a coffee, and then we kicked around the city.

As the day droned on, the vegan food was rapidly burned by our metabolism, and her tastes quickly shifted towards other things. Pizza. And so, to add a very contradicting twist to our "vegan journey" Jamie chose to visit Cici's pizza at 10:45pm for din din. Where the very "non-vegan" chees-sticks taste as if God christened them in his holy sanctuary of goodness and purity for our consumption. And when they brought out the hot cinnamon buns, I swear I heard a bell ring signifying that somehwere in the cosmos an angel got his wings.

We laughed on the way home about our very contradicting day!

Seagar's Special: Jazz and Martinis

2009-06-20T09:58:00.001-07:00

June 19, 2009

Seagar's held their party on the 18th and brought us in to provide music for the evening. It was a lovely event with an enthusiastic group of patrons who seemed to be enjoying themselves for the benefit of Children in Crisis Foundation. And hey, who wouldn't enjoy themselves with the 25 cent martinis? What a beautiful thing that can be. Just ask Jamie.

Saw a bunch of friends that night who came to hear the group play. And after the night was ended, my sister and her husband, and a group of their friends went to Funky Blues Shack in Baytowne and had a nice time.

Many moons ago, I acutally played at Funky's (both at Baytowne and in Destin) and it wasn't what you would call a "fit" from heaven. I am finding that you live and learn about the venues that work best for the music medium that I am a part of.

The band at Funky's was playing selections from the Who, Metallica, and every other rock band who made the electrified 3 chord songs famous. Whoops, ignore those last critiques. I am becoming aware that I am a musical snob. A jazz-hole. A piano-Nazi. Red-Headed-Step-Child. A purist. Whatever you want to call me, it's probably accurate. So the night was fun, and I enjoyed hanging with Sarah (sis) and Paul (bro-in-law), their buds Erin and Nick, and Pauls's brother Kevin and the loveable infamous Marlin, who supplied the entire crew with a river of drinks all night.

Stay tuned for the trio's next appearance at Seagars. I'll keep you posted.

Jerome Kern: Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man

2009-06-17T05:39:00.000-07:00

Since music from the Jazz medium draws largely upon composers who did most of their writing for popular culture, and Broadway shows, I thought I would highlight a few of my most loved composers. I want to start with Jerome Kern. His knack for simple, memorable melodies, that almost sing themselves, is apparent in his songs like "Old Man River" and "All the Things you Are". And he was, said to be, so tediously cautious with his melodies, that he refused any rythym or pitch be changed in the least once the melody was written. Even when working side by side with giants like Oscar Hammerstien II he was wickedly obstinant.

A colossus of the American Musical Theater, Jerome Kern was born in New York City on Jan. 27, 1885. His first music teacher was his pianist-mother. He later studied at the New York College of Music as well as in Europe.

After working in the London theater, Kern returned to America, where the only work he could find was as a song plugger and pianist with a music publishing company. From 1905 to 1908 he was associated with a music company, rising to the vice presidency. He married Eva Leale in 1910, and they had a daughter. His first published score was an operetta, The Red Petticoat (1912).

Between 1914 and 1929 Kern was represented on Broadway by at least one show a season. His prolific output included Rock a Bye Baby (1918), Sally (1920), and Sunny (1925). In 1926 he wrote the score for a Broadway adaptation of an Edna Ferber novel, and Oscar Hammerstein II wrote the lyrics. The result was the musical classic Show Boat. It opened in 1927 and ran for 572 performances. It was later twice made into a Hollywood film. One of its songs, “Ol' Man River,” is perhaps Kern's most famous, along with "Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man." In 1941 Show Boat was transposed into symphonic form and performed by the New York Philharmonic Orchestra.

Other Kern successes include Music in the Air (1932) and Roberta (1933) and, for the movies, Swing Time (1936), You Were Never Lovelier (1942), and Centennial Summer (1946). Among his most popular songs are “My Bill,” “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes,” “Who?,” “They Didn't Believe Me,” “Look for the Silver Lining,” and “The Last Time I Saw Paris” (his only hit song not written for a specific show).

In the realm of serious music, Kern composed Portrait for Orchestra (Mark Twain), which had its world premiere in 1942 by the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra, and Montage for Orchestral Suite for full orchestra and two pianos.

In his 40-year career Kern wrote 104 stage and screen vehicles. At the time of his death on Nov. 11, 1945, he was in New York to cosponsor a new production of Show Boat.

Destin Magazine's 5th Year Bash

2009-06-12T08:02:00.001-07:00

What a great time out at the Emerald Grande last night. After the trio got there and played for a set, the Captian's Deck came alive. People bustled everywhere sampling food from restaurants like Mitchell's, or Tommy Bahama's. I didn't get as much of a chance to explore the food situation, but I did have some killer avacado on corn tortilla chips from Cantina Laredo.

After the trio's first set, a handful of WWII antique aircraft flew over head, and dazzled everyone by flying in successive circles. This was followed by an elaborate fireworks display that left everyone's ears ringing.

I ran into Alex and Jerry Brown at the event, and got enthralled in a conversation about my other obsession, running. For those of you who don't know about my other crazy habit, you can see all that nonsense at my running blog.

Happy Anniversary Destin Magazine! And what a great party Linda! Can't wait to see what the 10 year party looks like.

Well, today I am off to work on the ole' Airstream, and die in the heat.

Airstreams, Rustoleum, & Bad Dogs

2009-06-06T09:07:00.000-07:00

So I stabilized the Airstream's frame with heavy carriage bolts and 2x6 treated lumber. I'm writing about this because, the whole restoration process requires such intense detail work, that I MUST make a document of it somewhere, lest I forget the endless tedium I have been wrapped up in!

The whole time I am out there sweating, stinking, and dying from dehydration, my dogs are barking inside as if I am the Hamburgerlar out to get them.

I painted the rusted sections of the frame with Rustoleum. Once done, I cut out remaining peices of the aluminum floor braces, and installed my wood. I had to drill through the iron frame to bolt it. Then I applied another coat of Rustoleum for further protection.

Seagar's, The Duo, & The Grand Piano

2009-06-05T08:45:00.000-07:00

Last night the duo played at Seagar's, the restaurant located in the Sandestin Hilton hotel. A truly wonderful atmosphere with a stunning 7 foot Yamaha grand piano on the main stage.

The music seemed to suit the setting, and the audience, for that particular evening. We'll be back on June the 18th, so mark it down on your calendars, and come in and say "Hello".

There aren't many places in the city where I get the chance to play an acoustic grand. 600 South in Pensacola has a grand that is fun to play. There is one in the upstairs bar and lounge at the Hilton in Sandestin. When Sunset Charlie's was in Destin, they had a piano that I played for 2 years. Seering's Piano Cafe had an amazing Steinway, and then more recently, a Yamaha G3 grand that I was privelaged enough to man-handle all of last summer. And of course Seagar's has a fine instrument too. And what a beauty it is.

Okay, I think I just lost everyone with my piano ramblings. So come by (to Seagar's) and have a drink on June 18th, and say "Hi".

Airstream Fever

2009-06-01T14:06:00.001-07:00

Well since parking the 69 Airstream Globetrotter in our driveway we have been infected with the aluminum bug.

After a failed attempt at camping in the Pine Log State Forest, with 3 large dogs, locked in a 19 foot tin can with us, we drove home and got to work. Since then, I have been hammering away.

First we pulled out all of the cabinets, appliances, and furniture. Then we got to work pulling up the floor where there has been some rot and water damage. Our bodies are sore, and I had a nice little incident with one of the windows that left me with a bruised eye.

The battle continues, but when this is all said and done, Jamie should have a nice little cafe' kitchen to create in. She's an artist with food, and pays such close attention to the nuances of taste and flavor. She needs a hip spot to do play around in.

How Grand: Airstream Globetrotter 1969

2009-05-23T09:03:00.000-07:00

The trio has been out at Grand Boulevard on Wednesdays, now from 5:30-8:30pm. It's jazz out at Grand park with kids playing out in the fountains, and people hanging out at Tommy's or Cantina's. Some people bring blankets and a picnic basket, and shoppers just sit down and listen for a while. We've enjoyed playing for Grand Boulevard, and have appreciated the enthusiastic audiences we have had.

In other news: This past weekend we bought an Airstream trailer while up at Magnolia Springs for last week's jazz fest. It's a 1969 Globetrotter. inside and outside are solid, but could use plenty of work. Yipee,(sigh). I have wanted an airstream for ages! Getting it was a bit of a headache though.

On the way home from the purchase up around Elberta, Alabama, the brake lights presented a problem. So after spending 2 hours in the O'Riley's Auto Part parking lot working on the brakes, we decided to pull the thing over and stay the night in the Office Depot parking lot in Gulf Breeze.

The next morning at 5:00am, we drove it home and managed to avoid utter disaster when backing the behemoth down a 8 foot wide gravel road (where we live) with 4 foot deep ditches on both sides.

So now it's ours... now what do we do with it?!

Magnolia Springs: In The Cool of the Evening

2009-05-20T05:34:00.000-07:00

We kept busy throughout the weekend. Over in Magnolia Springs, AL was the Arts and Jazz festival. The night before, we put on a home concert in Magnolia Springs, called "In the Cool of the Evening." And you guessed it, the trio did their version of the Carmichael tune, "In the Cool Cool of the Evening."

First let me say that Magnolia Springs is absolutely adorable. The church, the diner called Jesse's, the homes, all look like a painting. Wrapped in vines and greenery, it's like takeing a trip back to the way things used to be. And probably should be now.

Jamie lived there for a few years while going to Faulkner State, and she got her mail delivered by river boat. Apparently this city is one of the last places in the US to deliver mail by river route. That should tell you a bit about the quaintness of this area.

Anyway, the weekend was busy. The festival was nice, except for the buckets of rain that were coming down each second. Buckets of rain. Buckets. The whole thing was held under a big tent. And yet there were plenty of people there. So we crawled through the mud and gook, only to emerge on the platform playing our brand of jazz for the folks who came.

Mother's Day Bliss

2009-05-11T09:02:00.000-07:00

The Emerald Coast Convention Center had their annual Mother's Day Luncheon yesterday for Mother's Day.

Any time I am privelaged enough to play a real acoustic grand piano (or any real piano for that matter) I have a great time. The sounds of the wood just resonate with the upright bass. And they also resonate with my inner melodies too! Ideas are more fluid to me, and music just seems to flow out of me as opposed to the usual keyboard schtick. The Yamaha C3 at the convention center is fantastic, and has been played by several celebrity artists. But also by me too!

There was a time when pianos were found almost anywhere live music was being played. The piano was like the modern day PC, everyone had one. But since the degredation of music is so prevalent in today's society, it's a pianist's burden to rely on a digital piece of equipment to do the job.

Nevertheless, there I go again on my soapbox, Mother's Day was a great day. My own mother is staying with us, recovering from her own surgery, and that was a real treat having her with us to hang out and have fun.

Hand Surgery & The Schroeder Syndrome

2009-05-07T06:50:00.000-07:00

My mother just finished with surgery on her left hand for a crushed ulner. The pain relief she has benefited from is an added blessing. She slept the night through last night for the first time in a while. She is staying with Jamie and I while she recovers, watching old movies and staying up late with me! Perhaps we will watch Dr. Zhivago tonight... Hmmmmm.

The last 2 comic strips have been about Schroeder, and I have found myself (and other musicians) relating to this brilliant little pianist! In the strip below, he is harassed by Lucy and her opinion of what "real music" is.

Doing Wikipedia research on this little guy is fun. It tells all the factoids about this genius of a character. It lists the concertos he has played, talks about his obsession with Beethoven, and his closet full of pianos. Check it out.

Beads, Bangles, & Wedding Cake

2009-05-05T10:00:00.000-07:00

So it's been a nice and busy weekend. The trio played in Pensacola, this past Saturday, for the spring 2009 Bead Society jewelry show, held at the Methodist center on Wright. Some fabulous looking jewelry was being displayed. Steve's girlfriend had some fantastic home-made beads made from melted glass. The grand piano is always a treat to play, and this made the event especially fun.

On Sunday night, Sarah (my sis) had her wedding celebration at her in-laws (The above pic). The Schmidt's house. Their home is always open, and a really fun place to hang out for a lot of people. And you can tell it when you walk through the door. People are chatting in corners with their glass of wine, or haning outside by the lake eating boild shrimp and corn.

Jamie and I had a lovely evening celebrating Sarah and Paul's new life together. I especially had a nice time exploring the Yamaha C7! It belonged to Paul's grandfather, a "wiz-bang" of a Jazz pianist when he was alive. Their grand piano was my perfect excuse to be anti-social, and retreat from the crowd. And this above picture (horrible shot) shows how contorted and ridiculous my posture can get when playing. My back is hunched, and my long skinny arms dangle in front of me as if I am a crippled "daddy-long-legs" spider.

Sarah and Paul got gifts, and cake, and all the celebration they could stand! There was some face painting between the two of them when it came time to cut the cake. And there was even some "keg-standing" going on after hours! Ssssssssshhhh, don't tell anyone!

Great Quotes About Music

2009-04-30T07:40:00.000-07:00

I found a list of great quotes about music that I wanted to share. I thought some of them were too good to pass up. Some of these quotes might fly over people's heads. However, some of these quotes are written by people who had a crystal clear understanding of music's ability to communicate feelings and emotions.

Music is what feelings sound like. ~Author Unknown

Music is your own experience, your thoughts, your wisdom.
If you don't live it, it won't come out of your horn. ~Charlie Parker

You are the music while the music lasts. ~T.S. Eliot

Without music life would be a mistake. ~Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

Play the music, not the instrument. ~Author Unknown

A painter paints pictures on canvas. But musicians paint
their pictures on silence. ~Leopold Stokowski

Music is the poetry of the air. ~Richter

There is nothing in the world so much like prayer
as music is. ~William P. Merrill

Jazz Concert @ Mattie Kelly Arts Theater

2009-04-29T08:26:00.000-07:00

Had a wonderful turn out for NWFSC's evening of Jazz last night, from 7:30-9:30.

The Mattie Kelly Arts Center was packed with an audience ready to hear selections from the Jazz repetoire. The band played well, and so did the combo. Everyone seemed to perform with more zeal and vigor when they were put under the gun. Myself included. I have always wondered at this fact.

Example: At Simple Faith church, sometimes, the group performs better when the pressure is on, even though it didn't seem to gel during rehearsal. It's like the defense mechanism inside the brain takes control, and tries hard to prevent oneself from looking like a complete idiot. Sometimes, for me, it works out for my benefit. However, sometimes the pressure works against me, locks me up, and makes me a spastic mess!

Hmmmmm... Perfect example of not performing well under stress was when I was 15, and playing the lead in a community theater production of the musical Godspell. I forgot my lines halfway through the play, (which were basically Jesus' words from Matt, Mark, Luke and John.) I started nervously cracking my knuckles on stage and saying "Uuhhhh... I Uhhhh... Well uhh... " It was awful, the silence was deafening!! OH THE SILENCE HAUNTS ME!!!

But, the concert went well last night, and we brought the house down. What more could I ask for? Roses thrown on the stage perhaps? Naaaaahhh!

Sea Turtle Awareness Fun

2009-04-24T14:13:00.000-07:00

Even though it's a little late to blog about it, Raw and Juicy Organic Juice Bar sponsored the evening of live music and fun all centered around Sea Turtle awareness last Monday night.

Acoustic duo MaMuse, and soloist Cody Copeland played and sang, and there was food by Vegan Chef Jamie Dietrich, who just happens to be my wife!

I ate a plate of vegan nachos that must've weighed about 8 lbs. Jamie's cashew cheeze makes one stand up and say "Cheezus Spiced" this is good! Don't think too hard about that last joke! Especially you mamma. We had fun hanging with all of the sea turtle supporters on Monday.

The Sea Turtle Awareness tour is making stops throughout Florida in April as sea turtle nesting season nears. Live acoustic music and education combine creating a family friendly environment to learn about sea turtles and simple ways that humans can lessen their impact on turtle nesting beaches. The tour focuses on the effects of coastal lighting with regards to nesting and hatching sea turtles.

Music on the Green @ Grand Boulevard Sandestin

2009-04-22T20:20:00.000-07:00

The trio had a great time playing tonight out on the green at Grand Boulevard Sandestin. Great weather, and great enthusiasm from the audience. Thanks for showing up everyone!

However, the coolest and most special part of the evening was my confrontation with some truly high-quality "Sean Dietrich-Swag." Check out the pic of the t-shirt that Joni Boyd hand made! It is a stamped t-shirt with the face of, you guessed it, ME on it. Joni and Bala (a.k.a. Boni and Jala) are both very talented people, who mistakenly branded their son Townes with the face of the Devil! ME! Mooo wah haaa!

Show up and join us out on the green at Grand Boulevard Sandestin from 5-8pm every Wednesday night. When you come out, drop by the bandstand and say "Hi" to the trio. We'll play something special for you and who knows, maybe we will start selling swag!

Family Reunion: "What's Up With Veganism?"

2009-04-19T21:17:00.001-07:00

So Jamie's family reunion happened this weekend. It was at her aunt Flossy's house. We had fun visiting with her extremely Southern family. But I couldn't help but notice the divisions between us in the realm of diet.

As Jamie and I strolled to the front door, the guys had the grill cookin' outside. The aroma of hamburgers and sausage saturated the air around us. We entered her aunt's house, which was adorned inside with antlers and large mounted fish, and beheld the spread of creamy, fried, and sugared food before us. Humbly we ate our Boca soy burgers on the whole grain bread that we brought. And as I enjoyed my food, I noticed 81 year old uncle Ben staring me down.

"You don't eat meat?" He loudly asked. I shrugged it off, and did my best to be polite, but that didn't stop the onslaught of questions to follow. I could tell that the idea of a meatless diet was considered by Uncle Ben to be a personal insult to a Southern Gentleman's very existence.

It's true, I have been a Vegan for over 2 years now. And while I don't advertise my diet-doctrine around on a billboard, it raises many questions. That being said, I found a video on Youtube that is cute and clever about Veganism, and touches on some of the reasons that I choose to forego animal products. Here is a direct link to the video for all you FaceBookers. Is that a word?

The Creative Process of Self-Teaching

2009-04-17T12:14:00.000-07:00

Most of you know that I am an obsessive fan of the late artist Bill Evans. His music is something that I appreciate on a number of levels. He was more than a musician, he was an all around artist. He was a philosopher, and a great thinker on the subject of music, and the self discovery that is attached with musical creation.

This video is a conversation with Evans and his brother discussing music, and the process of self-teaching. Evans shines much light on the subject, even admitting that self discovery is a more insightful method of learning, compared to simply absorbing information from a static source. He eludes to the fact that all learning, even with the aid of a teacher, is ultimately self-instruction. The idea is, that ultimately, the student is the only one who is capable of pulling the music out of oneself.

Trio Plays Wednesdays @ Grand Boulevard

2009-04-14T11:19:00.000-07:00

Begining on the 22nd of April, the trio will be playing Wednesdays at Grand Boulevard, in Sandestin. We'll be playing in the center green area, next to Tommy Bahama's, from 5-8pm every Wednesday. Stop by and listen to music from the trio in a nice outdoor setting right in the center of Grand Boulevard.

Also, the trio plays Tuesday nights at Pandora's on Okaloosa Island from 6:30-9:30pm each week. So come on by the lounge, eat dinner, and DON'T EMBARASS YOURSELF by requesting Lynyrd Skynard or Metallica! Just kidding of course. Sorta kidding, that is. Perhaps Bala, Joni, and Ronnie are right about me, when they hit their imaginary musical "Snob" buzzer-button.

Easter Sunday @ Simple Faith Church

2009-04-12T20:33:00.000-07:00

Most of my friends know that I play music on Sunday mornings with the fellas over at Simple Faith church. Ronnie, Billy, Bala, Jonie, and Stuart keep me laughing and talking the whole way through our rehearsals on Sunday mornings. The music we put out has a unique sound to it, and is a nice warm blend of all our individual styles.

Today on Easter, it was standing room only at Simple Faith because of the Easter rush. It was a flood of people putting in their yearly church time. Coffee in the back kept my addiction satisfied. Ronnie's poignant, and brief sermons are a treat. Jamie D. (lovely wife) always walks in 10 minutes late, faithfully, each blessed Sunday.

Afterwards, Mom, Sarah, and Paul came over to our place for some vegan brunch. The brunch consisted of a tofu imitation-egg-casserole, imitation bacon and cheese grits, with asparagus. After the food digested, Jamie and I went to her parent's house to eat again. This time it was Tofurky, lima beans, and green bean casserole. What a lovely vegan Easter we have had! Why am I vegan? Peter Cottontale was just too cute to eat.

Studio Audio: My Vintage 70's Pianet

2009-04-09T23:02:00.000-07:00

Been doing some recording, and getting several songs together for the next CD. This song is a clip of one of my favorite songs "Time Remembered." The song was written by Bill Evans. It's shifting harmonies are really impressionistic.

The clip really showcases the warm 70's sound of the Pianet. It's got that really nice hip sound. It's one of my favorite keyboard sounds. It is very similar to a Rhodes piano.

For those of you on FaceBook, the direct link to my blog where you can hear the audio is right here. Or the direct link to the audio file is here.

Hohner Pianet: The Ultimate Vintage Keyboard?

2009-04-08T11:58:00.001-07:00

The ultimate dream for a piano player like myself is to have an instrument that is truly portable, that also feels good to play. Too often when playing a concert, piano players are stuck playing a digital contraption that puts out fantastic sound, but doesn't feel like a wood instrument. There is no resonance or vibration felt in the hands. It feels like a toy. There is simply no substitute for the real thing.

I have been on a quest to solve this problem for some years now. I actually would like to plan on building a simple electrified piano, or something similar in the future. Not only would it be fun, but I think I could actually make something that would fit my own specific tastes.

I have owned the ultimate classic electric piano, a beautiful Rhodes Mark II, but could not move it unless I had a bull-dozer. So I have been forced to own 19 electric keyboards in my short life on earth, and nothing digital has ever truly given me the feel I have looked for.

So I found what seems to be a God-send. The Hohner Pianet T model. Hohner (a German company famous for their harmonicas and accordions) made these pianos from the 1950s to the late 70s. They weigh 37 pounds, and have 60 keys.

The beauty lies inside the belly of these babies. The design is so unbearably simple. There are 60 metal tines that are plucked when the keys are struck. This produces, that's right, vibration! The essence of music. They are touch sensitive, and sound like the Rhodes piano that I love so much. Hey, I guess I am a minimalist after all.

I searched and searched to find one, and finally found 2 on Craigslist in the entire U.S. Nice guy, kept this baby in flawless condition, sold it to me and shipped it down here to Florida. The pads are new, the keyboard is pretty and sounds good.

To read more about these lovely things read Performing Musican's Article about it.

Phillips Jazz Competition '09: A Fun Evening

2009-04-04T09:33:00.000-07:00

All 5 contestants for the 2009 Phillips National Jazz Piano Competition arrived at the Pensacola Saenger theatre between 6:30 and 7:00pm. As I was introduced to 5 very unique players, getting to know each other in the back room, we agreed that this wasn't as much a competition as it was a "sampling" of different piano artists. At least that was my attitude about it. I didn't want to feel like I needed to "out-play" another contestant and jepordize my creative musical process as a result.

As the contest began, it was clear that each player was an intelligent, mature, musician. Each player's musical ideas were clear, and technical abilities were nicely displayed.

I went first, and played my 3 tunes, and one by one we all took our turn. Of course it was awkward playing with a rhythm section that I am not used to. My song arrangements were altered "on the spot" to compensate for the rhythm section's apparent uneasiness. But hey, that's what jazz is. On the spot composition.

Halfway through the competition, the sustain pedal on the Steinway D broke, keeping the entire mid-section of the keyboard sustained. The last contestant was forced to play the entirity of his program on a busted instrument. He made it work, and somehow he made some nice musical art out of the entire process. I am sure he feels slighted, but I think he was able to display his fantastic musicianship in a different way.

So in the end contestant 4, working on his doctorate at Juliard in NYC, and I, who studies at NWF, recieved the honorable mention awards. Both he and I were truly thrilled to have competed in a high level National piano competition, with such a respected panel of judges. I know we both had the times of our lives. The intense practice regime that I subjected myself to was my primary motivation for even entering this competition, and it was worth it. I was able to transcribe some Bill Evans solos, and focus for many hours on perfecting technique, as well as working on composition.

Thanks to everyone for the kind words of support all the way through! It was a fantastic experience that I am really thankful for. It was an enourmous boost to self-confidence and esteem to take part in this highly regarded contest. I had a marvelous time, and was truly honored to have been selected as one of the top 5 competitors in this national competition arena of Jazz.

In The Hotel... Contest in 2 Hours

2009-04-03T14:55:00.000-07:00

Just sitting on the couch in the hotel in Pensacola. I have been playing my weighted keyboard getting warmed up. Things are good. I am a tad nervous, but rehearsal went well with Tom and George, so we'll see. It should be a fun night. At least interesting if nothing more.

The Countdown Begins

2009-04-02T08:36:00.000-07:00

Today is the last day of piano practice for me, because tomorrow will be filled with scooting around the North Florida panhandle getting our hotel room situated, rehearsals for the Pensacola jazz festival, and (gulp) preparation for the jazz piano competition.

I have known for a long time that I take things far too seriously. As a child, I didn't want to play cops and robbers for only half the day, I wanted to go to school in my uniform. This competition is no exception. As I type this post, my wrists and fingers are a tad sore from all the abuse. I have been in the office, where the instrument is, banging away for the majority of each day, only coming out to eat. Poor Jamie!

I have been digging furiously in the mines of my heart for something musically precious. I've had some fantastically spiritual experiences alone in my own musical world. I've found some parts of me that I didn't know were there musically.

Naturally, people have asked me if I hope to win this thing since I have been working so hard. My answer is, truly, that I don't particularly care all that much about winning necessarily. Don't get me wrong, it would be great to win. But my goal is more specifically to impress myself when I am up on stage.

Granted, I am a far harder audience to impress, but, to me, I am the only audience that matters in the long haul. I realize my chances of impressing the socks off of myself is slim, I can be a ficle crowd. But I keep telling myslef that the only reason I entered this competition was to have an excuse to really get into some intensive musical immersion. Have I lost anyone yet with my musical nutty babble?

So I will keep everyone updated on the progress of this competition. I want to give my thanks to everyone for all the support I have received.

It's In The Papers: No Backing Out Now

2009-03-29T13:08:00.000-07:00

Below is the article that was featured in the Destin Log, written by Pam Griffin. And at the same time, there was an article in the Walton Sun about the competition. So I guess it's safe to say: I'm going to Disney World. Actually, Jamie and I just went to Disney World last year, and it sucked. You can watch the YouTube video and learn all about it. So nevermind.

Local pianist/vocalist Sean Dietrich has been selected for the Kathleen T. and Philip B. Phillips, M.D. Jazz Piano Competition sponsored by the University of West Florida in Pensacola. The annual competition, established in 2005, has become a nationallyrecognizedcompetition and an opportunity for the country’s best jazz pianists to showcase their talents.

The musicians will compete for cash prizes totaling $10,000.

“I am excited about competing on this level,” Dietrich, of Miramar Beach, told The Log. “It is nerve-racking and yet thrilling at the same time.”

The competition is open to currently enrolled undergraduate and graduate students, ages 17-35, at colleges and universities throughout the United States. Five finalists were selected by a panel of judges.

“I have been spending 6 to 8 hours per day in practice on the piano,” Dietrich said. “The reason I prepare so intensely is because I will be going up against competitors who study music at some of the nation’s most respected music schools. Last year’s winning competitor was studying at Juilliard and studying under a wellknown jazz pianist. Considering all this, it is an honor for me to have even been accepted.”

The competition, free to the public, will be held at 7:30 p.m. April 3 at the Saenger Theater in Pensacola. This event will coincide with Pensacola’s JazzFest where the winner of the competition will present a concert on April 4.

Dietrich, currently enrolled at Northwest Florida State College where he is studying music, has been singing as long as he can remember and began playing the piano at the age of 9 and guitar at 12. He is selftaught on all instruments.

“No one was around to teach me,” he said. “I just spent a lot of time playing my piano in solitude. In the end, I just figured things out.”

Competitors in the Jazz Piano Competition are asked to play three different songs from the list of jazz standards.

“I have chosen to play songs that I truly love, including the sentimental song ‘Smile’ written by Charlie Chaplin in 1936,” Dietrich said. “I am a sucker for the old music that my grandparents grew up with. They don’t write music like that anymore.”

Dietrich has opened the stage for some of the country’s most well-known jazz artists, such as Rick Braun and Mindi Abair. Currently he performs locally with his trio at regional events and jazz festivals, including the Seabreeze Jazz Festival, Pensacola JazzFest 2009 and the Gulf Jazz Society’s 2009 Jazz-By-the-Bay.

Music is Spiritual

2009-03-27T12:59:00.000-07:00

Most people would think that a musician who ties music to spirituality is a nutcase. And for the most part, most people would be right. Any human who spends 6-8 hours per day perfecting the act of pushing buttons on a big black wooden box has a possible priority disturbance. What's the reason? Why this obsession with rhythm and tonality?

To me all art is a form of expressing one's own spirituality. I think music, and all art, is a process of discovery, self awareness, and a type of enlightenment. To put it simply: Art is a process where someone learns about oneself.

The truth, to me, is that there connections between music and the personal spirit. I don't know how it works, but I experience the something profound everytime I sing or play. Many composers, jazz musicians, and other introspective artists agree on this notion. Below is a quote from Bill Evans:

"My creed for art in general is that it should enrich the soul; it should teach spirituality by showing a person a portion of himself that he would not discover otherwise...a part of yourself you never knew existed."

Having a wonderful experience while playing music is enormously insightful, and is truly a form of meditation. Below are a few quotes from Beethoven himself:

"Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy."

And another:

"Music is mediator between spiritual and sensual life."

Maybe I am crazy. But I like the way it feels.

Mobile, AL Jazz Society Concert: Bill Evans Tribute

2009-03-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

Had a great time playing a concert for the Mobile Jazz Society in Downtown Mobile, AL.

The historic building where MOJO, otherwise known as the "Mystic Order of the Jazz Obsessed", holds the concerts is unlike anything this Florida native is used to. As we were unloading our gear, the first thing I notice is a picture of Martin Luther King Jr. next to a picture of Obama. Posters of Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, and Miles Davis lined the walls.

The place soon filled up with loads of vibrant individuals who seem to truly appreciate the art form of Jazz for what it is. The trio presented our tribute to Bill Evans concert program which includes many Evans standards, and songs that he loved to play while alive. We were met with grateful applause and warmth and would like to thank MOJO for a great evening.

So many unique individuals kept the whole event very fun. It was a nice change from the predominantly beachy condo-ish surroundings of Destin, and Santa Rosa Beach.

Thank You Tricia Northcutt!

2009-03-21T21:29:00.000-07:00

I want to say thanks to Tricia Northcutt for having the trio play at her daughter Courtney's engagement party out near Carillon Beach. We felt truly appreciated and were greeted with a very warm reception.

Billy and Nancy McConnell were there, along with Michael Belk and a few other friends from Simple Faith church. So I felt right at home! It was a truly nice party, and we couldn't have asked to be surrounded by nicer people.

The setting was perfect. We were out on a deck right on the beach, with perfect weather. Absolutely perfect sunset. Not too hot or humid, and not to cold either. We had a great time playing, and want to thank everyone individually for the kind atmosphere.

Great Bill Evans Site

2009-03-20T18:08:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, I am a Bill Evans nutcase. Everything about his music I love. Even "Twelve Tone Tune" which some people don't appreciate. Anyway, I was looking around on the net, and found this fantastic site that I felt like mentioning. It's very expansive and informative. I thought I would share. Check out the "Time Remembered" Bill Evans Webpage.

Steinway Grand Practice: Heavy Action

2009-03-19T20:24:00.000-07:00

The UWF competition that I am competing in will be utilizing a Steinway Grand piano. Steinways have notoriously heavy action. In other words, the keys are not as light and fast. They can require quite an effort to play. Needless to say, this makes me a tad nervous. I have played several events on a similar Steinway, and was unable to play like I wanted.

So I am trying to get in some practice time on heavy action pianos. I was able to fit in an hour of playing on the Steinway Grand up at NWF today. The action on this piano is extremely heavy. My fingers were weary after 1 hour of playing.

I have even heard that a famed classical pianist actually opted not to play this Steinway at a concert for the college, but instead chose to play the lighter, but lesser, Young Chang piano. Sssshhh! Pretend you didn't read that on this blog.

As you can probably imagine, I am preparing for the Phillips Jazz Piano competition in April obsessively. And will probably mention it far too many times on this blog.

Our Lake Martin, AL Weekend

2009-03-16T20:33:00.000-07:00

Lake Martin, AL was a tranquil place for Jamie and I to retreat to for the weekend. We enjoyed ourselves while staying at her cousin's cabin on the lake.

While it actually rained most of the time we were there, we used the weather as our excuse to take it easy. Jamie caught up on some reading, and I was able to fit in several hours of playing on my make-shift music area in the den, where I resembled an eccentric musician who just couldn't leave his obsession at home in Florida. I set my Korg X-50 keyboard on a barstool from the kitchen counter, and had it plugged into my miniautre Peavy amp so that I could keep Jamie saturated with sound.

Right now, as I type, Jamie is driving us home on the highway, and fiddling with the GPS at the same time. I am feeling more and more insecure with each passing moment that she toys with that infernal contraption. This is an accident begging to happen. Oh, and don't forget that it's wet and rainy outside too. This could be my last blog post.

Before hitting the road, we just left a place called Strictland's. It's a fabric supply store in Eclectic, Alabama, where Jamie and I sifted through thousands, ney, millions of bolts of fabric for some upholstering that needs to be done back at home. Eclectic, Alabama is a cute little town that has a population of about 18 inhabitants. I believe one sixth of the population works at the fabric store, and loves to talk about video games.

But alas, vacation is always fun. I am looking forward to getting home and preparing for the UWF Jazz piano competition.

UWF Jazz Piano Competition: I MADE IT!!!!

2009-03-13T14:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, most people who read the blog know that I submitted my entry into the esteemed annual UWF Phillips Jazz Piano Competition. Well, I got a phone call today from the music department informing me that I have been selected as one of the 5 finalists.

On April 3rd (2 weeks) at 7:30pm, I'll be on stage performing 3 selected jazz standards along with 4 other contestants from around the U.S. What a thrill!

Wish me luck.

Beethoven and Bill Evans

2009-03-12T15:04:00.000-07:00

Heading up to Lake Martin in Alabama for a few days of relaxation. Looking forward to spending some time relaxing and playing a bit with some new songs.

I was reading about Beethoven and some of his quotes. The saying below, I found especially poignant, speaking of music:

“My misfortune is doubly painful to me because it will result in my being misunderstood. For me there can be no recreation in the company of others, no intelligent conversation, no exchange of information with peers; only the most pressing needs can make me venture into society. I am obliged to live like an outcast.”

It seems that the deeper one goes into his/her music, the more isolated the musician becomes. I know this is true from personal experience. It's true with most pure artists who have enough guts to follow their artistic nature, and go against pop-culture.

Refusing to bow to popular main-stream culture, such as Beethoven or Bill Evans, and be loyal to one's own creativity, and art, ends up isolating the artist. As an artist, this knowledge is depressing. It's exciting. It resonates. And it's strangely fulfilling.

“No friend have I. I must live by myself alone; but I know well that God is nearer to me than others in my art, so I will walk fearlessly with Him.”

Southern Living Magazine Article

2009-03-10T21:39:00.000-07:00

Tuesday nights are the weekly Jazz night at Pandora's on Okaloosa Island. Southern Living Magazine was out tonight taking pictures of the trio. Although tonight, it was a quartet with Dave on the saxophone.

During the second set, I see this guy laying on the floor taking snap shots of Jim and his bass. He buzzed around us taking pictures constantly for the magazine. So now, every respectable Southerner will have a picture of the Sean Dietrich Trio on their coffee table. Ha ha! Poetic justice.

Buddy Defranco in the Audience

2009-03-09T21:26:00.000-07:00

The folks from the Gulf Jazz society were hosted an evening of music held at the Black Angus Steakhouse in Panama City.

Charles Pagano, Steve Gilmore, Victor Payano, and I formed a impromptu quartet and played through a handful of some of my favorite songs.

In the audience was the jazz-hall-of-famer Buddy DeFranco, and it was a true honor to meet him, and perfom with him in the audience. A really nice man. Buddy was the leader of the Glenn Miller orchestra, and has played with all of the icons in the jazz world. People like Gene Krupa, Count Basie, Tommy Dorsey, etc. He is a legend in his own right. I was thrilled to meet him when Larry introduced me.

Give Big Destin Florida Commercial

2009-03-07T19:26:00.000-08:00

So below is a commercial by Bala Boyd of Gypsy House Productions.
The commercial is for the Give Big Destin Florida event.

I just have to mention, while I am at it, that the sound engineering was done by (Ahem...) yours truly. Bala snagged me, and half the church, after service one Sunday a few weeks back and shot the whole thing.

I happened to have my recording equipment in the car, and so I pretended to be an engineer for the rest of the morning. Jamie was scoffing at people, waiting to be filmed, who dared to complain about being hungry or tired, since the commercial is actually aimed at ending world hunger.

Ruskin Place Artist's Walk

2009-03-06T22:42:00.000-08:00

Ruskin Place is an Artist Colony, in the heart of Seaside, a collection of small shops and artists' galleries has everything from toys and pottery to fine works of art. On the first Friday of every month they host a little walk-about to check out all of the galleries.

I am sure most everyone around 30A area is familiar with the event, or has been to it. Jamie and I went last night with our friends Bala and Joni Boyd, and their son Townes.

There was music, drinks, and great atmosphere. We are right at home in an area that values the arts as much as they do. As I love to say: Support your local artists.