The school changed it’s name to The Juilliard School in 1969 to reflect its broader artistic scope while keeping the values and principals fully intact. I think this is a great school for anyone looking to get into the field with it’s rich history and promising curriculum. I am all for my friend going to the school and would suggest the program to anyone looking to become an musical artist or performer. Plus, visiting the school is just another excuse to go to New York. The school website even lists out lodging options near the Juilliard campus. There are also travel recommendations on the page regarding distance and bicycle rentals in the city. I would like to go back out to the school just to see one of the many performances from the students.

In the free moments around my 60 hour a week slog, I have managed to accomplish a few other things:

• I took my CEP Level 2 exam on June 10 and passed it with flying colors!
• I started studying for my Level 3 exam in November.
• We celebrated Miguel's 35th birthday.
• I got tile floors installed in my entry, kitchen and dining room (okay, I worked the day job while the tile layer put in the flooring - but I designed the pattern and it turned out fabulous even though everybody thought I was crazy).[gallery]

And yesterday I found Randy Pausch's amazing lectures.  What an inspiration - and what a loss, his passing so young.  It does make one wonder what happened to our childhood dreams.  And when we were children, how many of us actually had the passion and conviction to say "I want this" ?  And then actually strive for that as an adult?

I never made a list like Randy did, but here is a list of things I did with such passion that just remembering the activity now I can feel myself doing it:

• playing the lead in the elementary school play and singing the opening solo - and winking at my father in the front row (age 5)
• watching Barbara Streisand in Funny Girl (and every other movie she ever did) and yearning to sing and be spunky like her
• watching Star Trek and wanting to be like Spock
• playing the not-yet-King Arthur in the class production of The Once and Future King (age 11)
• singing the lead in the elementary school Christmas play (age 12)
• singing Motown and the Beatles and Creedence into a pink plastic hair curler
  (oh, cruel world, I just realized that I switched from singing and acting to drawing after that creep Wayne Yee shamed me for knowing all the words to all the songs when I was in 6th grade - Wayne Yee, you suck)
• designing entire wardrobes for Betty and Veronica and sending them to the comic publisher
• drawing every art school entry form picture I found (remember those advertisements in Sunset magazine?) - houses with landscaping, portraits, cartoons
• designing a costume for Tatiana in A Midsummer Night's Dream (age 13)
• designing the winning poster in a contest to publicize a local concert by Cuban pianist Joaquin Nin-Culmell and then listening to him play (age 14)
• painting the winning Halloween window decoration at the local fabric shop with Sandy Abalos (age 14)
• drawing my feet one day when I was sick and hated missing art class - and being amazed at how perfect they turned out (age 14)
• drawing my first nude - and being amazed at how like a photo it was in its precision (age 19)
• getting accepted at CCAC on the basis of my 8 pencil drawings portfolio (nope, couldn't go - evil stepmother interference)

Miguel and I watched the movie August Rush the other evening and I realized that I did have one dream growing up - to go to Julliard.  But Wayne Yee, divorce and freaky stepparents intervened and I went into survival mode and never looked back.

So I'm holding out for my other childhood dream - winning a huge lottery jackpot and traveling the world.  I've got to have at least as good a chance at that as at going to Julliard at 50.

From what I saw on the program, they did go over some  positive aspects of Black America. I wouldn’t say the entire show was aimed towards this, but all the same there were very positive aspects. Can we ignore the bad in search of something good? Were we expecting an entire show dedicated to the positive aspects of black America when half of black America is, indeed struggling?

Since most have already pointed out the negatives of the program, I’ll point out the positives that I saw:

The black family with both parents and 5 children, all of which they successfully sent to college, except one because she/he was not of age yet and the parents have their own family business.

They covered a child who successfully made it out the “hood” and went to Julliard for dance and we all know Eric Dyson’s success story.

I remember them talking about the rapid increase of black business (up 45%, I believe) in the last decade which often the media ignores.

I remember them covering a large family who annually held family reunions, strongly stuck together and helped each other, and knew their family history tenfold.

They talked about the large number of black sisters who hold a degree. They talked about the many intelligent, financially well off sisters who are doing  very well for themselves.

They covered the 2 year experimental program in NY for less fortunate children which actually pays children to go to school and is designed to help motivate young black children in learning and give them a more promising future that would probably otherwise be bleak. So far , it has proven to be a successful motivation tool for learning.

I’d give the program a chance to play itself out before I denounce it. I’ll be tuning in tonight @ 8pm central time for the Black Men segment.

Besides this, I was watching it with some family members (cousins, aunts)—some of whom fall into the category of single parent mothers and they were very pleased to have an open dialogue about these issues and it opened their minds to many other things mentioned on the program. I think overall, it was more helpful than harmful.

Would you like your kids to take classical music lessons?

***NOTE:  What I'd LIKE to see are more prominent Asian composers (not music/song writers who do pop...NOT THE SAME THING)...lots of Asian music students (in Asia, anyway), just copy what they hear, making their music more mechanical-sounding...creativity isn't important here, just as long as you play the right notes with decent expression, you're okay.....having been trained in piano and voice, mostly be teachers of Eastern European descent, I've learned that it's a big NO-NO.

Le boîtier mal nommé « Beethoven », ayant la faculté d’émettre des sons suraigus particulièrement désagréables et perceptibles par les seuls adolescents, semble la dernière invention pour régler le « problème jeune ». Cette trouvaille suscite une légitime émotion tant elle est une aberration sur les plans éthique et politique. Première aberration : l’origine et le fonctionnement de ce dispositif. Ce projet, qui exploite un filon commercial, s’assoit sur un socle éthique douteux.

Appliquer à l’humain des mesures de « tortures douces » destinées aux animaux s’oppose aux fondements du respect de la dignité humaine.

Seconde aberration : l’existence et l’idée même de l’usage de ce boîtier. Il existerait un « problème jeune », les jeunes seraient facteur de nuisance voire de danger. A ce « problème » on ne proposerait plus de solution mais un contournement, une mise à distance physique. Cette trouvaille décentre les problèmes des jeunes vers un problème du jeune déresponsabilisant ainsi la société et le politique dans l’ensemble de leur mission. Force est de constater que ce procédé est tristement révélateur de l’échec des politiques ciblées en direction de la jeunesse. Ne nous mentons pas, les lieux d’usage de ce procédé ne seront pas choisis au hasard. C’est une fois de plus dans les quartiers populaires, où la reproduction sociale joue à plein et où construire sa vie est plus difficile qu’on souhaitera installer ces « repoussoirs ». C’est précisément là où l’attente est la plus forte, là où la jeunesse est la plus stigmatisée. C’est là toute la bêtise de cette initiative. Des émeutes dans les banlieues nous n’aurions retenu que la violence et la haine dont il faudrait se protéger, de ces soulèvements nous n’aurions pas voulu entendre la souffrance et l’appel à l’aide. L’usage de ce dispositif suscitera un ressentiment dont on serait bien malvenu de s’émouvoir tant sa violence symbolique est évidente. Ne confondons pas tout : les problèmes de délinquance doivent trouver réponse, et parfois de manière répressive, mais cela ne doit jamais venir faire écran à la recherche permanente des causes d’une grande part de cette délinquance et des solutions à apporter à celles-ci.

Emploi, logement : les jeunes sont frappés de plein fouet par les crises que subit notre pays. Il y a deux ans, pour améliorer ses conditions d’emploi, on leur proposait un contrat de travail piège, un contrat au rabais avec le CPE. La sanction systématique plutôt que la prévention, la démission plutôt que l’accompagnement, voilà qui résume les politiques de jeunesse mises à l’œuvre. Le boîtier miracle ne règle rien et vient alimenter de façon honteusement démagogique la spirale répressive et les préjugés stigmatisant. Quelle méconnaissance de la jeunesse de notre pays ! Non, les jeunes ne désirent pas « traîner » indéfiniment dans les cages d’escaliers. Non, ils ne voient pas les entrées des centres commerciaux comme le lieu de l’aboutissement de leur ascension sociale. Non, ils n’ont pas comme ambition de perturber le quotidien de leurs propres voisins. A un moment charnière de leur vie, celui des choix et des doutes, les jeunes attendent d’être accompagnés, soutenus et orientés dans la voie de la responsabilisation et du passage à l’âge adulte. Qu’est ce qu’être « jeune » si ce n’est justement se situer à ce passage crucial de son parcours où naît l’aspiration à trouver un emploi, un logement et finalement achever un processus d’émancipation. Il serait proprement ridicule de penser qu’un seul d’entre eux ne souhaite pas profondément opérer cette mutation, qu’un seul d’entre eux préfère délibérément une vie de dépendance, un maintien dans l’enfance. C’est cela qu’il faut entendre et à cela qu’il faut tenter de répondre.

N’acceptons pas ce type d’initiative qui vise à fermer les yeux ou pire à détourner son regard de notre jeunesse. La jeunesse est l’avenir, elle est par essence riche et dynamique. Regardons-la en face et soutenons-la. Dans mes nouvelles fonctions d’adjoint au Maire de Paris chargé de la jeunesse, je m’opposerai farouchement à l’utilisation de ce boîtier, tant dans les lieux publics que dans des structures privées. J’en refuse, comme beaucoup d’autres, l’existence même et en demande l’interdiction.

* Bruno Julliard est adjoint au maire de Paris, en charge de la jeunesse

1. Incorrect spelling of my name alternating e's and a's and y's. Get it straight people—or at least choose a consistent format. It's Mad Margaret. Not Mud Marguerite or Mid Margerock. Real damn funny. Fortunately, this was fixed throughout the article and has stayed (so far).

2. It's rumored that I'm lesbionic. I'm not gay. If you're flimsy evidence consists of the fact that my best friend was gay and that I have never been married, then you obviously haven't seen my sex tapes with George Clooney (hint: he likes armpits!). Additionally, rumors have no business being listed on Wikipedia, so this shit had to go. This inaccuracy has been corrected. (thank you).

3. I'm lying about my age. I'm either 46 years old and have been lying about my age for 10 years, or I'm 30 and a former meth user. Screw you guys. I don't and never have used meth, and I think I look great for 72. Nice job fact-checking you boneheads. I sent them a link to a public website which lists my age accurately, so they fixed this one too.

4. My back story is {mostly} wrong. I was never kicked out of Julliard for rowdy behavior, and I did not study at NY Film Academy. The truth is far less exciting than that. I have studied acting, singing, and film, but not nearly in such hallowed halls. I was REALLY interested in it and soaked up everything I learned like a sponge which is why people presume (and write Wikipedia articles) that I'm more experienced that I actually am. I was a beauty pageant contestant once—very few people in my real life know this. Based on some photos and an essay I sent in, I was accepted as a finalist in a legitimate state-wide pageant, but my parents refused to let me travel to the competition so I had to drop out. In college, I was an aspiring model—I was starving to maintain a marginally lithe frame, but I never actually did much serious work. The few student things I did only served to convince me that I was NOT a good model. I think most of my body images started there! I did go to a very respected graphic design school for a year and was hired that summer at the crummy job I have now. Why? I was on my own and needed the work. I finished my degree by going to evening classes after that. The rest I just don't have time to explain. While most of this rubbish was corrected, there are a few stragglers that have somehow stuck around. Ugh!

5. My family is related to Maria Callas and Rosa Ponselle. No, but I kinda like that one! I'll let it go.

6. Stalkers drove me away from the art career that made me an F-list 'celebrity'. This one's actually true, but I was also bored to death with it by then. As an artist, I need inspiration and when your 'fans' want you to keep creating the same thing over and over again, it dulls the inspiration. I was getting ready to get out anyway, so when the crazy stalkers started sending me hate mail, calling me and threatening me and my family, it stopped being fun real fast. Reading ugly and untrue things about myself online (even then) was really hurtful. I try not to Google my name too often, but occasionally I open Pandora's box just for the hell of it. Then 9/11 happened and it all seemed so ludicrous -- the world had bigger issues -- I made a couple of final pieces and walked away. I still have my paints and swear I'll do it again one day, but generally my feeling is that time is so over. Never say never, though. A minor quibble, so I let it go.

7. I have a genius IQ. Not entirely untrue, but more legend than actual fact. Although I was never privy to the official test scores, I was verbally told that I scored incredibly high on my IQ test in grade school (and other tests they used) so I was placed a grade ahead in almost all my classes. I don't call it being "gifted" anymore—I was just intensely interested in a lot of things.... except, alas, Math. My incredibly bad math scores held me back, so they couldn't officially move me ahead. By the time I hit jr. high school, they placed me in the actual grade I was supposed to be in—which sucked royal ass, let me tell you. So, yeah, I could make a nuclear bomb out of a stick of gum, an eyelash, and an Altoid, just don't ask me what a dollar minus fifty cents is. I've also gotten a lot stupider as I've gotten older. Me tinks I iz dumb sumtimes cuz I cannt rumembur shit enee mor. Dis kan staiy. Daaii.

Bruno Juliard est le président de l'UNEF, l'acteur de la victoire contre le CPE, nous raconte ici sa vision sur sa génération.

Bruno Julliard est président de l'UNEF, l'acteur de la victoire contre le CPE, nous raconte ici son pacrcours.

Petit tour d'actu avec Bruno Julliard qui est le président de l'UNEF.

The usual arias, Nessun Dorma from Puccini's Turandot and O Soave Fancuilla from La Boheme, are all over the media, but I say bah, he was a happy man.

Let's have him as Nemorino in L'elisir d'amore...

...and as real person from his Julliard master classes.

Anyway, I've come up with the perfect response to that question, and this is how I hope it plays out:

Nice, but Tactless Old Lady: So, tell me, honey, are you really an actor?

Me (squatting down and resting my elbows on the table): You know, it's a funny story about that. Years ago, when I was just a little girl in East Tennessee, my mother found herself in possession of a small amount of mad money. After careful consideration, she decided to spend that money on a trip to the Big Apple, where I had always wanted to go. We were here for four, glorious days, and on one of those days, we visited Lincoln Center, right across the street there. It was my wildest dream to one day attend Julliard, and then to sing at the Met. My Mom drew a picture of me standing in front of that fountain, and then we ate lunch at this very restaurant. I had the berries with mascarpone cheese. They tasted like hope.

(I stand, and smile at the distant past for a moment, lost in happy reminiscence. Then, glancing down at the sticky bussing tray in my hands, I am brought back to the present.)

Me (Cont'd): Well, that was years ago now. I never made it to Julliard. And I certainly never made it to the Met. I don't sing anymore. But I did get a job in this very restaurant! So, every day, I can look out those big, front windows at that paradise across the street and remember...a little girl's dreams.

(I pause for a moment, gazing out the large front windows that afford a view of Lincoln Center, then blink rapidly several times, and swallow.)

Me (Cont'd): I'll be right back with your bloody Mary.

[Scene]

l to r Hank Medress, Mitch Margo, Phil Margo, and Jay Siegal
The Tokens are inducted into the Vocal Group Hall Of Fame 2005

Hank Medress, the founder of the Tokens ("The Lion Sleeps Tonight") and producer of the Chiffons ("He's So Fine"), Dawn ( "Candida", "Knock Three Times") , Tony Orlando and Dawn ( "Tie A Yellow Ribbon ( On The Old Oak Tree ") talks about his career, challenges and aspirations.

In an exclusive interview that amounts to a couple of old friends talking, Hank shares stories and experiences that make you feel like you're there in the moment with him! He also talks about the organzation that he represents, and the gratification he receives from finding recording artists who don't even know they are owed money.

Artie Wayne On The Web and Spectropop proudly present The Hank Medress interview http://spectropop.com/HankMedress/index.htm

When I was in high school I discovered and fell in love with two things that together became the tools I used to express myself- the bass, and jazz. They gave me a musical freedom I never had before. In orchestra I was taught to sit and play notes on a page. A classical musician takes lessons and spends years learning how to play exactly what someone wrote on a page and that was boring to me. When you play jazz the only thing that has been predetermined is the song’s melody and harmony (and sometimes not even that). The rest is up to the spontaneous imagination of the musicians, and learning how to play great jazz is really learning how to control and express your creativity.

This was what I wanted to do. Even if it didn’t bring much money, and even if it meant living in a tiny studio apartment my entire life I would be happiest going out and playing music every night. It gave me a sense of purpose, and all my actions were aimed at becoming a great jazz musician. As I improved I got more and more ambitious, and when it came time to apply to schools I threw myself towards the most challenging goal I could think of- to get into the prestigious Julliard school.

Not many people get to do what I had in mind, and a lot of really talented people try. I thought that I would use admission as a litmus test to see if I was cut out for the jazz life. The school is very selective- people from all over the world apply and they only had one bass seat open. If I got in I would get to learn from some of the best jazz musicians alive today, tour with the band around the world, and play in all the famous jazz clubs in New York City. Going there and living in Lincoln Center became my dream. If I could get into the school after only playing for three years, I knew I had a strong enough foundation to make it as a jazz musician.

The first step of the audition process was to choose six songs from a list of twelve, and record myself playing the melodies, soloing, and walking basslines for each tune with a band. My teacher Mr. Osborn got me in touch with the pianist in his wedding band, and the pianist suggested a drummer. We set up in a little recording studio the piano player had built in a spare bedroom, and things got off to a shaky start. We only had the one session to record everything, so there was a lot of pressure to get everything right the first time and it was affecting my playing. Everything sounded awful on the playbacks, and there was a moment that I just thought “this isn’t going to happen”. It wasn’t until I took a break, had a drink of water, stopped looking at the music, and just got totally involved in the music that we got any usable takes. I was able to find the groove that I think all jazz musicians aim for- when you trust your knowledge of the instrument, close your eyes and become just a passive observer. I felt the music inside of me, and could hear what should come next. My fingers took the concepts and translated them into notes on the fingerboard effortlessly, and I was dancing in my seat and just enjoying everyone’s playing by the end of the session.

I sent the tape off and didn’t hear back until January. Three long months I waited until I finally got the invitation to audition live in front of the whole jazz faculty in Manhattan. I was so thrilled- I could see the dream becoming real and it was so close. All I had to do was reach out and grab it. The audition was at the end of that month, and I had to learn four new songs they sent, brush up on the six I had played on the tape, and commit all ten to memory. I had to know all the parts of the songs inside and out and I wasn’t allowed to bring any sheet music with me. Three hours each day after school, and six on the weekends I was in my room practicing. I would take four measures in a song and just practice them over and over until I could play them without looking. Then I’d take on the next four measures and add that on to what I already knew. It was a long process, but it felt so good every time I had another mastered because that meant I was one step closer to getting there. I put the ten songs in a playlist and that was the music I listened to all month long. I sang the songs and went over the notes in my head when I was in the shower, driving in my car- over and over wherever I was, if there was a bass there or not. I had never worked for one thing so hard my entire life. The audition absolutely consumed me all month, so when it came I was confident that I was as prepared as I could possibly be.

There were four other players auditioning. Just four. I was told that out of the hundreds of applicants I was one of five bassists invited to audition for the professors. We all warmed up in the same room. It was obvious they had been playing since they were kids, and I was behind them by six or seven years. Two of the players were going for the graduate program. We played together in that warm up room though, and I began to grow confident that my philosophy to playing jazz would overcome their technical proficiencies. These guys all had amazing grasps on the mechanics of playing, but they weren’t dancing in their seats. They tried playing as fast as they could at the cost of being musical. Good jazz is laid back, melodic, and they didn’t get it. Nobody had told them that jazz is about expressing yourself, not impressing people.

I grinned the entire way home, because I knew that I had gone in the room and had played very maturely, with an emphasis on musicality, rather than showing how many notes I could play. I had been able to find that magical groove in front of all the great musicians, and I had danced in my seat. I thought I expressed myself better, and more clearly than any of the applicants, and that the great musicians I played for must have appreciated that.

I don’t know if they did or not, but in another month I got my rejection letter from Julliard. I was certainly disappointed my dream was not coming true, but not as sad as I thought I’d be. There was a great satisfaction that came knowing I had pushed myself as far as I could have. I began to realize that I don’t need to prove myself. Art is not a competition, but an expression of your ideas. I had expressed my ideas through music, and nobody could say they weren’t as good as anyone else's. If they didn’t get that, then I didn’t really want to go there anyway.

When I was in high school I discovered and fell in love with two things that together gave me the tools to express myself- the bass, and jazz. They gave me a musical freedom I never had before. In orchestra you sit there and play notes on a page. A classical musician takes lessons and spends years learning how to play exactly what someone wrote on a page and I always thought that was boring. When you play jazz the only thing that has been predetermined is the song’s melody and harmony (and sometimes not even that). The rest is up to the spontaneous imagination of the musicians, and learning how to play great jazz is really learning how to express your creativity.

I decided that this was what I wanted to do- that even if it didn’t bring much money, and even if it meant living in a tiny studio apartment my entire life I would be happiest going out and playing music every night. It gave me a sense of purpose. All my actions were aimed at becoming a great jazz musician and getting into music school. As I improved I got more and more ambitious, and when it came time to apply to schools I threw myself at the most challenging goal I could think of- to get into the Julliard jazz school.

I thought that I would use it as a litmus test to see if I was cut out for the jazz life. The school is very selective- people from all over the world apply and they only had one bass seat open. Getting in would mean learning from some of the best jazz musicians alive today, touring with the band around the world, and playing in all the famous jazz clubs in New York City. The school and dorms are in the middle of Lincoln Center, and going there became my dream. If I could get into the school after only playing for three years, I knew I could make it it as a jazz musician.

The first step of the audition process was choosing six songs from a list of twelve, and recording yourself playing the melodies, soloing, and walking basslines for each tune with a band. My band teacher Mr. Osborn got me in touch with the pianist in his wedding band, and the pianist suggested a drummer. We recorded in the piano player’s little studio built in a spare bedroom, and I got off to a shaky start. We only had the one session to record everything , so there was a lot of pressure to get everything right the first time. It wasn’t until I stopped looking at the music though, and just got totally involved in playing that we got any usable takes. When I really get into the music I start dancing in my seat while playing, and I was dancing by the end of the session.

I sent the tape off and didn’t hear back until January, when I finally got the invitation to the live audition. I was thrilled, and could barely contain my excitement all month. That’s how long I had to prepare four new songs they sent, and brush up on the six I had played on the tape. I had to know the songs inside and out and I wasn’t allowed to bring any sheet music with me. The audition was all I thought of all month, and when it came I was confident that I was as prepared as I could be.

There were four other players auditioning. Just four. I was told that out of the hundreds of applicants I was one of five bassists invited to audition for the professors. We all warmed up in the same room. It was obvious they had been playing since they were kids, and I was behind. Two of the players were going for the graduate program. We played together in that warm up room though, and I began to grow confident. These guys were great, amazing technically, but they weren’t dancing in their seats. They tried playing as fast as they could, but at the cost of being musical. When one of they all began improvising very complicated solo with lots of fast and complicated runs, I became excited. Good jazz is laid back, melodic, and these guys didn’t get it. I grinned the entire way home, because I knew that I had gone in there and had played very maturely, with an emphasis on musicality, rather than showing how many notes I could play. I thought I had expressed myself better, and more clearly than any of the applicants, and that the great musicians I played for must have appreciated that.

I don’t know if they did or not, but in another month I had gotten my rejection letter. I was terribly disappointed my dream was not coming true, but I also held some satisfaction that I had pushed myself as much as I could have. I began to realize that I didn’t need to prove myself, that I had expressed my ideas through music, and nobody could say they weren’t as good as anyone else's.

http://www.purevolume.com/davegill

I've improved since then, but I've also been without my upright since getting to Potsdam, and I'm starting to miss it. I didn't realize it until listening to this. I miss my upright, and I miss playing jazz. The feeling when you're totally in the music, you stop thinking about the chords or where you are, and you can hear what you're going to do before you do it....

After visiting the li-bary I made my way downtown to work and was a little early so I decided to swing by the National Museum of the Native American. Since there is no admission price, I figured it was about time I went and got cultured. It's this huge, old building that looks like it should be a library. There were armed guards outside and I had to put my backpack through an x-ray machine.

The guards inside said the exhibits were on the 2nd floor only (it's like a 5-story building). About a third of the 2nd floor was blocked off, so the exhibit was very limited. And not extremely diverse. Hey look, a pot. And there's another pot. And this pot looks just like the last two I saw. Here's a moccasin. And another pot. And more moccasins. And now we come to a pot.

I don't know what I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting The Great Pot/Moccasin-alooza Festival. Darn. And I really wanted to like it, too. I just wonder what goes on in the other 4 floors of the building. But I didn't want to get shot trying to find out.

Next time.