The real web

Remember when the web referred to something other than photons streaming together and all things preceded by “e” as in e-mail, e-book, e-cigarette? I do. I came late to email and all things webbish not being able to afford a phone line much less a computer. But such is a musician’s life. Gear first, all the rest in good time or until your boyfriend or girlfriend can afford it. The old joke of “what do you call a musician who’s broken up with his girlfriend? Homeless” is scarily too true. So, this weekend I played some gigs at a Powwow. The Spirit of the Painted Sky Powwow to be exact. It was their first annual intertribal powwow and I was much honored I was asked to be the featured musician. How that came about is the story of how every happens, through seemingly unrelated connections, the web of our lives. I had played at the El Paso Museum of Archeology a few times as a guest musician and for one of their functions just to show my support. Someone involved with the Intertribal group was there and bought a CD. Her daughter borrowed it indefinitely and she wanted another. Hence she suggested me to the board who had heard of me already and things fell into place. I was in town, Las Cruces, just barely so said sure it would be my honor.

I’m there playing in the absolute challenge of the elements. We had a late cold spell, wind storms all amplified by the canyon where the powwow was being held, we are tough here and see wind and grit as a badge of honor the way people up north see the cold freeze. These wind gusts were tougher than us though. Tents and people were flying around like Dorothy. I play Native American Flutes and help from the wind is not welcome unless you invite that help. I had intentions of playing Coyote Oldman’s Anasazi flutes but the wind was a critic and said no way José. We played in the powwow circle and the Dinéh drum group prayed and sang for the wind to be calm while I played. I did the same and it worked. While I played the first set there was calm, sun and only a few breezes. I was so humbled I improvised a wind song. See our connection with the elements isn’t something artificial or an advertising tag line of Green. It is something I’ve always known and felt so to be amongst other natives who use this as part of their language and way of thinking was refreshing. There is no baggage or falseness here. When we say we will ask the ants to stop biting for a few days it is real. We feel it and know it, and our confidence is what makes it so.

Okay so to illustrate the webbings I referred to. On the bill was a Capoeira group. They are the Brazilian martial arts/music group that you see at festivals, markets and the like. I have always loved that form of celebration developed by African slaves. The energy and authenticity of it is so visceral. They set up next to my booth so I brought them some water and made them feel welcomed. I had the thought to bring them a chair. I brought over two from my tent after I saw they were using their Congas as tables for their Navajo Tacos. They thanked me and one guy said thanks man, my legs are really hurting as he took off his lower legs. He had prosthetics on both lower legs having lost them in the Middle East wars. I was just humbled and said a small thank you to creator for guiding my dumb ass. Living with an inflammatory muscular and bone disease every day and I do I’ve come to appreciate just how much gumption it can take most days just to say I’m gonna do something great this day and it will probably hurt a lot.

By the time I did my second set the winds were just beating us like hurricanes on a trailer home. I was playing to a big crowd who were braving the winds turning my back to the wind as much I could and finally switched to my Halo, a melodic steel pan drum. When I turned around I saw that the guy with no legs had been holding down my flutes, speaker and everything else. I had no idea he was there helping me. I played my heart out on that Halo and people stood up from their hay bales and just clapped forever. I knew I had made a connection that was well beyond me.

Next day the guy with no legs came up and thanked me for letting me help him…I’m like no dude, thank you and gave him an autographed CD. He said he had been at a Chapel in El Paso in prayer for peace in Juarez. It was an organized event that brought thousands out. Juarez, just 45 minutes from me, had seen 3500 (only the ones people know about) drug related murders in 2009. He said he was there praying and met some older man to whom offered a ride. Turns out the man needed a ride to the Spirit of the Painted Sky Powwow in Mc Kelligion Canyon to perform with his Capoeria troupe. He gave him a ride and came into the powwow and cried. He had found home. When he told me his story I cried because I know and understand home. So I’ve made new friends, new fans, new connections and added new strands to my own web that my music has spun for me. The Capoeria group can be found at http://www.Capoeriaquintosol.com I’ve been invited back for next year already and you bet I’ll be there, dust, grit, wind and all. See this profession isn’t for the squeamish or the ones who think life is an accident. Aho.

Randy

Randy Granger at the Spirit of the Painted Sky Powwow 2010

Gigging under ground and a painted sky.

Gigs are what musicians call work as in “I’m gigging Saturday night and can’t come to your party.” Weddings, funerals, rehearsals are all gigs too. So this past week I did some shows, gigs, in Texas took me from the edge of Space at the Mayborn Planetarium and Space Theater then deep below the Earth in the Cave Without a Name. Science, music and art—sounds like a perfect combination to me. It was a trio at the Planetarium including me on Flutes, Hang and Halo, Voice and Jodi Roberts on Bowls and Gongs and Stephanie Phillips on Viola. The audience flew through the cosmos while we performed live music. It was otherworldly and a nice experience. The next gig was in underground cave for a private workshop and sound healing for a group of around 24 or so. It was powerful, especially when we turned off all the lights. In that deep darkness you could only hear the dripping of water, breathing, chanting and the sound of my Halo, a tonal percussion instrument in the Pan family of instruments. Playing my unamplified flute, drums and singing in such a space was a real privilege and treat.

So this weekend I am the featured performer at the Spirit of the Painted Sky Powwow in El Paso, TX. It is the first annual intertribal gathering of its kind here. I’m honored. Again the “sky” figures into the gig. I like that. The venue (where we play) is in McKelligon Canyon once a sacred gathering place for the Mesoamerican tribes and later Rio Grande tribes. I know as I play my flutes there I will connect with, possibly, some of my ancestors and bringing it full circle. I’ve been humbled by where my own Native American flute path has taken me. Places I never expected to perform, opportunities, exposure, spiritual exploration and a search for my own lineage all branching from my decision in the winter of 2003 to buy my first flute. The people I’ve met and connected with, the musicians I’ve shared the stage with, the people I hear from telling me how my flute music has touched them, healed them, and moved them all mean a great deal to me. I am excited about my future in music.

May 15^th our trio will perform again at the famed Rothko Chapel in Houston, TX. Some notable people who have spoken there include the Dalai Lama, Nelson Mandela, Jimmy Carter, Jonas Salk,

Archbishop Desmond Tutu. We will play for a special membership appreciation event. What an incredible honor. Go here for information www.rothkochapel.org/Members%20Event%202010.htm

Later in May I’ll be performing at the Native Treasures Arts Show in Santa Fe. While up north I’ll attend the 23^rd  New Mexico Industry Awards banquet in Albuquerque. I’m happy to report I received four nominations this year in the categories of “Native American Contemporary” “World Beat” and “New Age Contemporary.” Check out the other nominees at www.newmexicomusicawards.com/ So my music takes me to gigs in space, underground and under a painted sky. Bookmark my Calendar to see if I’m coming to where you are and come and say hello. Here is a video collage of a Halo solo from the Earth Day concert.

Randy

Jodi Roberts, Randy Granger

Remembering what music does.

Saturday I played for the Mesilla Valley  Hospice memorial walk. It was intended that people would walk around the campus and gardens and end with a remembrance ceremony in the Veteran's Garden with words, music release white doves at the close. It rained however. It was moved inside and there were about 200 people there, the family, friends and people involved with the end of life care both inpatient and home hospice.

Two Chaplains gave words and one read a poem which I've included here. 270 names were read out loud as I played my Native flutes and an instrument called a Halo. As I heard the sniffles and gentle weeping of the crowd i was reminded how fortunate I am to have people and dogs I keep alive in my heart and how my gift of music is something that transcends my ups and downs, petty and profound moments. We moved outside to a drizzle. I began Amazing Grace on my flute while the Doves were freed and circled above us following each other so trustingly. The tears in the crowd were loud now and a girl of about 3 came up to me and tagged me telling me to look up and said, "Look up there, did you see them?" I nodded my flute in mouth up and down to indicate yes before her mother came and got her.... That was great, she reminded me "I" was certainly not the attraction--it was the birds and the sky.

What a beautiful reminder that what I do as a musician is what all musicians have done for eons; that is we connect feelings and emotions like no other art form. Whether you feel patriotic at hearing the Star Spangled Banner at the Olympics, pure joy at listening to James Brown or comforted by hearing Amazing Grace on the Native American flute something about music is universally moving. As I'm in the midst of recording and planning for upcoming tours and performances I can loose sight of the power of music. To play and hear people start to cry gives me a huge sense of responsibility and I find myself become a human instrument. My whole body and movements become the instrument I'm playing. Maybe that is from being trained and as a singer, I don't know. I talk a lot, probably too much, about how a musicians really needs to woodshed as we say, practice, explore every angle of their instrument so that you collect a huge toolbox of things you can call on for a song. It is all about expression. And think how something as simple as an alphabet or a language enables you to express yourself and you get the idea.

Muchas Gracias
Randy