The other day I had a freak out over my posture with the cello. Was my cello at the right angle? Was my posture producing the best sound? Was it what I was supposed to be doing?

Posture is… well… it’s the basic of basics with playing cello. You generate power in your bow arm, you encourage your fingers to dance rather than trudge, you can play for a long time without fatigue, you don’t develop tendonitis as easily, it’s the basic of the basics.

So how could I, after all these years of playing, be questioning the basics of the basics yet again? How could I not have this figured out yet?

At the time I chalked it up to being a bit frustrated with my playing as of late, not feeling confident with the music I was working on.

But I think now, a couple days later, that it’s because it’s ok to question the very basic elements of our endeavors, of our lives even.

How do you walk? What does your gait say about you? Is it good for your back? What does your smile project? How do you say your name when introducing yourself? How often do you tell those you love that you love them? Do you look into people’s eyes when talking to them?

These are the basics. And I think it’s important to return to them as much as is necessary. We are always re-learning the basics.

There is something so very critical about repetition to the brain. Repetition is my only rock-solid method to realistically and successfully take on big challenges. I also value repetition as a way to get the little but important things done.

I’ll get to how repetition applies to the cello in a few paragraphs but since I must not have read my last post (“get back to it“) and have been traveling recently and meeting lots of new people, I have a non-cello example that shows how valuable repetition is, it involves introductions and names.

I hate to admit it but I am terrible with names. It is such an awkward and lame trait to have. I think it is probably more common than is let on so I try not too feel too guilty about it. I try to cope or be honest. I have learned to say “I’m sorry, what was your name again?” within the early stages of meeting someone as opposed to having that mortifying moment of uncertainty upon meeting them a few months down the road.

It’s not an ideal way though. At this family wedding I recently attended I was swamped with dozens of new names to learn. A new friend was talking about how to remember names effectively and it works so well! You guessed it, repetition.

“When you meet someone, say their name out loud as many times as is natural in the course of conversation, try to say it at least three times. You won’t forget their name from there on out.” It’s like magic for me!

I should have known this. With cello and with life, repetition is the only way to tackle a large piece of music, to inspire a new piece to come about, to get past technique and into feeling.

I will post about my tried and true method: “How To Practice” in the near future, but, spoiler alert, the basic building block is repetition.

Take a new piece. Play the first several notes. Stop. Repeat. Move on to the next batch of notes (measures), repeat. Now go back to the beginning, repeat the first few notes again. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. It sounds tedious. But it isn’t. Repetition of small tasks is like having a 50 shelf organizing system in your closet instead of just a hanger and a hamper. It’s efficient.

So, if you are facing a monumental task: a speech, starting an exercise routine, learning a new piece, beginning an instrument, starting a diet, studying… I suggest breaking the big task down into tiny little pieces and running through them and repeating.

I know this is not the revelation of the century, in fact it’s really just common sense. But you wouldn’t believe how useful it has been for me to become aware of the value of repetition.

I’m starting a blog series called “Cello Lessons”. The idea is to take the lessons I’m learning by playing cello everyday and relating them to other aspects of life.

Having discipline is good, maintaining discipline is even better. I’ve gotten to a point where taking a day off of practicing cello feels like a vacation, especially if I am busy, or as is even more often the culprit I just don’t “feel like it”.

It’s fine to take a break from routine. I’m of the mind that if I need a break I need a break. I’ve had a lot of sessions that were just bad before I even started, and continued until any gains in technique and finesse were mitigated by frustration and impatience (more on this in another “Cello Lesson”, I also happen to believe there is a time to push through).

The problem happens when that day off turns into two, and then there is a big holiday or life just happens (as it tends to do) and now you’re into a stretch of non-action.

Getting back to it is the thing though. Today I’m getting back to it, truly kind of worn out from a long weekend and a hot long day. It’s the re-establishment of routine that matters. The question is, how to convince my wily mind to actually do it?

I tend to feel like I’m collecting feathers on a windy day, after a week or two of solid practice I’ll have a good collection and then a big wind and whoosh I’m back to where I started. There are probably other better metaphors*, building a sand castle right at the edge of the waves, painting clouds… whatever.

Really though there IS a gradual growth that happens, one that a strong wind can’t blow away.

I happen to believe that a day or two, or even a week off (if it comes to that), can be a good thing. I think the brain needs to process things. A great episode (from a fantastic show, Radiolab.org) on sleep kind of re-affirmed this for me: http://www.radiolab.org/2007/may/24/sleep-deprivation/

What I took away from the episode is that there have been studies that imply that musicians in particular can benefit greatly by letting the music rest overnight and returning to it the next day.

I notice that when I return to playing after a week off there can actually be a fluency to the techniques I’d been working on. I actually can’t preach that this is due to my brain processing technique in the time off as much as that I am simply not as self-critical upon returning. I’m usually amazed that I can still play halfway gracefully. I’m not constantly questioning whether my elbow is moving in an elliptical shape or not. It happens on its own it seems.

So, get back to it. The pain of having to work your way back up to where you left off will not be as bad as you think. You might even be delightfully surprised that you’ve improved in your time off.

*(oh yeah, Sisyphus, there’s the better metaphor! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sisyphus)

It’s suddenly spring in LA, at night the jasmine smells waft over the city, people are taking off their sweaters that were in use for 2 weeks, and everything is growing in a lush way.

I’m loving spring and the feeling of rebirth that comes with it. Honestly you get so deep into the things you are working on and sometimes you just reach a sort of wall. I was starting to feel that way with the new album, and so strangely so, because I really really love the thing. But for whatever reason I’m feeling rejuvenated and the album is too.

Some of it may be outside inspiration… I was playing cello for my friend and fellow musician Molly Allis in Boston, and we had to figure out how to get the cello parts I recorded transcribed and performed with violin, cello and upright bass, as opposed to three imaginary Lukes. It was a really fun process and reminded me of the lovely depth that strings bring to chords. Since then I’ve been looking at the album and finding moments that could be more lush and composing little ditties for that. I actually wrote a cello quartet that I’m really happy with the other day. It’ll be an interlude.

Some of it is the weather. More hours of the day. I don’t know about you but I can’t really be bothered to start playing the cello at 9am. For whatever reason my creative work just doesn’t happen until the afternoon. And in the wintertimes that means it’s just dark suddenly when I emerge from the cave of my recording studio.

Oh and I think some of this newfound push is getting over hesitations… also again tell me what you think but for me the closer I am to putting something out in the world, the further faults I find with it. Nitpicking I suppose you’d call it. I’m real keen on that one too as honestly if there were one thing I would change in my music career it would be to not have released several early albums in such blatantly tawdry states.

Lastly perhaps, or at least just for now… I want to get the thing done! I’m ready to move along and create more music and play these songs live.

So if you are having a hard time getting out of winter perhaps this’ll help. Spring is around the corner. Let’s go!

I have been really not writing blog posts lately if you haven’t noticed. I kinda thought I’d lean on twitter and facebook to keep things updated, especially in this new attention span world the internets have developed. But I’m missing my real posts and keeping score on how things are going with the music.

As you may know I’ve been working on a new album “Tomorrow Was” for the past several months. I had in mind an album that I can perform live that is an amalgamation of the styles of music that influence me heavily lately in a visceral way: electronic, punk, classical, and jazz, all leaning on the pillars of that rock and roll that Neil Young rightly proclaims “can never die”.

It’s been intense, many hours, ten songs, constant reworking. I feel an obligation to have no regrets with this one, and to give it my all. There are a few other albums that I can’t wait to make next, the all acoustic one, the next instrumental cello one, the all electronic beats + cello one, but for now I’m locked in. The lyrics ought to be my own, I try and get layers of meaning into each line, I try to avoid that ever-tempting chasm that is being trite, I try to make them coherent and mysterious at the same time. It’s going well. I’ve never had so many rewrites of lyrics. The cello can be tighter and bigger always, the layers of sound can be less dense and more complex. This is why it takes so long.

I had the amazing opportunity to record with Adam Carson (AFI) on drums and we banged 5 songs out in one day. I replaced a lot of the electronic beats on those songs and have learned a lot about getting an organic but lively drum recording. It sounds incredible, I can’t wait for y’all to hear it.

So yeah, the months are cruising along with further work on what I intend to be by far my best album to date. REDWOOD SUMMER was awesome to work on, Midnight Door was a triumph for me personally, and all those other albums feel like good stepping stones.

I’ve gotten further away from worrying what the world might think of my own particular brand of music and more concerned with meeting my own very high standards of (subjective) quality. I never have been great at following the latest musical trends, and frankly I have no idea what drives the pitchforks and college radio stations of the world to make kings and queens out of new musicians. I understand that my earnest, emotional, raw and honest music that is heavy on sound and (attempted) musicality may not be the current THING in music. I could get more ironic, more irreverent, more silly and less dense. I could try to catch the wind of popular trends but you know what? I don’t want to and it probably wouldn’t be that pleasant or necessarily successful. No, I figure I’ll keep doing what I do best and I’ll push it and work on it and disassemble it and keep trying to get it out there just as is.

Like this very un-edited blog post.

Los Angeles has been very good to me and mine. The weather is pleasant, our neighborhood exciting, my musical inspiration exponentially expanding. It’s a massive massive blanket of humanity spread out widely over the desert-y ocean-y southern part of California and it is different for me and thus refreshing and invigorating. I come from Northern California, where mere mention of LA brings involuntary sneers, but honestly I feel like it’s one thing to look down upon it from afar, another to actually live here. I love the energy, I love the go get it attitude, and I love feeling like people are involved in their art very passionately. It’s a place to come and get down to business, get to work, get yourself out there. I am timidly sliding my foot into doors, and occasionally I have been met with great opportunities working with music video directors and other musicians. I feel like though I’ve been here a year now I’m just getting my feet underneath me.

My days have been filled with more cello, almost out of nowhere I rediscovered an intense desire to play Bach, to practice exercises, to spend a chunk of each and every day with this nuanced, gorgeous, frustrating, endlessly potent instrument I play. I’ve been playing the same cello since age 14, been saving for that fancy-pants cello some day, but for now, me and my beginner/intermediate cello spar with each other and I learn how to play it in particular. I can only play Suites 1 and 3 of the Bach Suites for Solo Cello, but I figure it’s time to expand that and delve deeper. Getting into Suite 2 every third day and eventually will have the courage to jump into the last three and their menacing keys and fingerings.

I read this book “The Cello Suites” by Eric Siblin and it got me all fired up to embrace the instrument. This book came into my life a couple weeks after deciding to practice seriously again so I feel like it’s a sign. Read it, it’s great, whether you are a musician or not.

In other projects I’ve been recording cello for Molly Allis’ new album PILGRIM, performing with Jessica Ripka, and juuuust started working with film composer Lior Ron. All of these activities are really really fulfilling. Between that and conspiring with Adam Carson on my own music I’m gettin’ pretty close to that true vision of being a musician that I have fought for for 15 years.

So that’s the update. All is well down south, all shall be revealed. I’m going to make an effort to scratch around my life for enough interesting things to write about to make it a very regular thing. I’m ready to come out of hibernation I suppose.

I sincerely hope you are well, and I sincerely thank you for checking in on my blog and my life and my music.

Words.

Luke.