Chapter Fourteen - The Path Back: Architecture and Asians
I have an odd resume. In 2009, with zero background and through a temp agency, I landed a job as an Executive Assistant to William H. Fain, Jr., an architect and urban designer.
I loved working for Bill. I had found a highly creative and artistic boss, who thought and spoke tangentially at times, but was uncompromising, focused and passionate about his work. In many ways, more an inspiration than a supervisor.
He told me that before I left the company, I had to develop a love of architecture. When I told him that would never happen, he told me to at least learn how to pick a good wine. Since all he drank was Pinot Noir, I can now tell you to order from Williams Selyem in Oregon. And his family winery, Detert, produces the best Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc I have ever drunk in my life.
Getting this job literally coincided with my return to music.
The weekend after I started with Bill, I read in the “L.A. Times” that the Lodestone Theatre Ensemble was doing “Closer Than Ever”, a musical I had seen in college.
I LOVED this production!
When I first saw the original staging, there were four singers with a pianist and bass player on stage. The piano part was no joke. In the middle of the first act, I turned to my date and told her if I ever had the chance, I had to do this show.
I knew people in Lodestone. It was an all Asian theatre company. I called up my friends Jennifer Aquino and Kipp Shiotani. Kipp had directed a play there, and I asked him to get me in. Never mind that I had not been playing the piano seriously in years. In fact, for my audition, I posted the video of me playing “Totentanz” with CSUN on Facebook. They didn’t have to know the truth.
I had a 10:30 pm meeting with the director, Chil Kong, at House of Pies, and two weeks later we were in casting.
“Closer Than Ever” was the first time I got to hang out with a true mix of exclusively Asian cultures... all actors, singers, producers, writers and dancers. I think that we as an audience get used to seeing one or maybe two in a show at a time, but here were ten performers plus two pianists... all Asian. It mattered what we were putting on stage.
Rehearsals were tough. Most of us were working full time, then a 7-11 pm rehearsal. I’d run home and practice my part on my keyboard until 3:00 in the morning. Then repeat. I had to work to recover from my long piano lay off. My shoulders and arms cramped. I sported wrist and elbow braces all summer. I went to the office dazed every day. Wait, I still go to work dazed every day.
Lodestone was such an open and collaborative work environment. We were allowed to change orchestrations as music creativity came alive. We added stops for action, inserted saxophone lines, and determined where random percussion and taiko drum hits fit best with the choreography. In one poignant number, a son sings about his father losing his ability to play, and we took out the arpeggios and held a haunting note on “his hands grew ‘numb’ and now he cannot ‘play’”. One of our singers was more of a brilliant actor and needed to convey the weight of her husband’s passing. I told her to speak the word “died” instead of singing it. It froze the house.
I was fierce during rehearsals. I’m sure I was overheard saying things like: “How come I’m hearing twelve different pitches when there are only ten singers singing?” “Can you sing that any flatter?” “We can transpose up half a step if it’ll sound less cow-like.” Those might be exaggerations. Might be.
It surprised everyone in the cast when I completely mellowed out for performances, because by that time I just wanted to enjoy it.
My point here, no matter how hard you work in prep, make sure you appreciate and enjoy your accomplishments and hard work during your
performance.
The run was not without its share of hilarious mishaps...
When the power got kicked out from my keyboard, and I had to dash across to the other side to play on the Roland that was programmed with drum sounds...
When the second pianist broke up with his girlfriend, got into a car accident, and I had to sight read the bass part he usually played (because I was too lazy to practice it in advance just in case). I went so fast that one of the dancers, when his choreography brought him in front of me, started snapping his fingers to slow me down. I had to buy everyone involved with this number wine...
When, during the prank show, the same second pianist, now back with his girlfriend and driving a loaner, started Act Two off with this run of Asian wind chimes that I was not expecting. It was so funny, I started laughing out loud, which caused a chain reaction of laughter from the audience...
When I forgot to reset the key after working with an understudy on a number and opened the show with the piano pitched a half a step down. I didn’t realize this until the 3rd song and thought no one I knew was in the audience that night as it was dress rehearsal. Turns out there was a theatre producer I had randomly mentioned the production to...
The reviews came in, and they were excellent. We were an “LA Times” Critics’ Choice noting “fine music direction” and singling out the one song we had worked the hardest on. (Only ten pitches by this performance.) And the “LA Weekly” called the music direction “creative and innovative”.
The best part was I got to work with Erin Quill (Original Broadway cast of “Avenue Q”). Erin gave a different performance every night. You had to actively listen and respond. It was single-handedly collaborating with her that made me excited to continue on the musical journey again.
This was step one in my return to the piano and the true unleashing of my music creativity.
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