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I have been recently working in an office around the corner from Michael Jackson’s parents. There are police and media everywhere. Given the amount of attention I have learned more about Michael Jackson in the last few days.

This is a story of a very out-of-touch classical musician. I was aware of Michael Jackson as a child. In fact, I was assigned to perform one of the Jackson 5’s songs when I was in elementary school. My professor dad, bowtie and all, took me to a record store in Carrboro (perhaps around 1970) and we bought the album.

I didn’t think much about the Jackson family after, as I was too busy practicing scales and going off to auditions for orchestral jobs. Somehow I missed pop culture and the huge impact Michael Jackson had made.

Now that he’s gone, I have devoured Michael Jackson’s videos and only now understand his artistry. I have learned a valuable lesson about making an effort to understand something new (as it was back then) and not being afraid to ask dumb questions of younger people who can explain it.

Two nights ago, I was invited to a fabulous party on the Disney lot. While there, I got into a conversation about hip hip and rap with a very current video artist. I said a couple of misinformed things and could tell I’d lost this guy’s respect. So I’ve made a commitment to be open and ask all the questions that make me look like a nerd. As it turns out, I look pretty hip after all!

But one other lesson I learned from Michael Jackson is to integrate into society. Of course I’ll never be in his plane of celebrity. But we do have in common a public presence that was misunderstood and spun into something ridiculously sensationalized, when each of us was just a person. I’m so sorry that he died and feel pain for his family, but I see myself in his final years as a recluse who was not represented as the person he really was. I can target myself in that way as someone who made an impression of the man, but only now realize what he was enduring. I’m going to make sure I don’t die during my comeback.

Open House

Open House

This Sunday, June 7 from 1-5 p.m., you’re invited to an open house in the Hollywood Hills at 2766 Nichols Canyon near Woodrow Wilson Drive! There’ll be wine, cheese, and great company in a celebrity-owned house that just went on the market.

This beautifully-remodeled home listed at $1,700,000 features 3 bedrooms in its 2,100 square feet, 2.5 stunning baths, a chef’s kitchen, expansive entertainer’s deck, built-in storage, bookcases and home entertainment, surround sound, spa and outoor cabanas, massive gates, full security system with cameras and alarm, garage, parking for 9 or more cars, and an in-ground safe. It’s a polished gem for singles, artsy couples, and dog lovers (near Runyon Canyon Park). When you arrive, park in the sandy area to the left of the gates or on Castana Drive.

I look forward to seeing you there! Feel free to bring friends or invite anyone who might be interested in this unique, spectacular property.

Market upswing!

kw_stack_color-12Besides being an oboist-writer-producer, I’m also a realtor — and have been for three years. Things look bleak in the US, especially in California. At least that’s the party line. But today, I went into my real estate office (Keller Williams in Burbank) for the first time in a week. What I saw blew me away.

In our office, there’s one person who updates whiteboards with listings, and another with sales. There are quite a few listings, which isn’t surprising. But last time I was in, the sales board was 3/4 full — which was surprising in itself. But what was astonishing was that today, the sales board was not only full, but the poor gal assigned to update had had to fashion a whole *new* board out of cardboard! There are at least 60% more listings in the last week than had been posted all month.

Seems counterintuitive, yes? But mortgage rates are now below 5%, and home prices are still plummeting. Bad if you want to unload something, great if you’re buying your first home without having to sell another (if you’re a renter). Still better for first-timers is that there’s the $8,000 tax credit from Obama’s tax stimulus plan to sweeten the deal.

None of this will do older wealty folks too much good in areas like Beverly Hills that haven’t dropped yet. But in places like Burbank and environs — Toluca Lake, Studio City, Altadena, La Crescenta — it’s still beautiful living at the base of gorgeous mountains in LA, but with reasonable prices, and often in safe neighborhoods where you can walk everywhere and have a sense of community.

If you want to know more about SoCal real estate, please visit my Keller Williams website and don’t hesitate to contact me through it. If you are ready to buy, now’s the time!

John Hope Franklin

John Hope Franklin

John Hope Franklin

Our dear family friend John Hope Franklin died this week, at the admirable age of 94. He was an esteemed professor of black history, who earned credentials long before it seemed possible a man of his race could gain an education at all; born in 1915, he held MA and PhD degrees from Harvard University. Yet often when researching in the south, this scholar, in the 1940s through 1960s, could not stop at restaurants or even gas stations traveling between states.

John Hope was named after a Georgia educator of the same name born in the Civil War’s wake — the product of a white farmer and black mother who, although he could pass for white, opted for the black identity at a very difficult time in US racial history.  He was the son of a Louisiana black attorney who moved to Oklahoma after being refused to practice law. His father was the son of a slave, his mother, a schoolteacher.

John Hope was remarkable in every way. For the books, he was the first black chair of a major history department, of the Oarganization of American Historians, the American Historical Society, and the Southern Historical Society.  Yet his personal life was also a standout. He was devoted to Aurelia, his wife of 59 years — caring for her personally as she declined due to Alzheimers after they had shared so much. He was also widely photographed caring for his orchids, a passion my mother told me he developed during a residency in Hawaii and then brought back to North Carolina. The portrait here shows his devotion to both his beloved Aurelia and his flowers.

I grew up in the segregated south, and so much time has passed that I’m surprised few people understand the significance of Dr. Franklin’s career. It’s a great testament to how much our society is changed, that racial issues, though still volatile, have neutralized so much. I hope that for the rest of my life, our current political and nationalistic differences will go through a similar transition, and that there will be a “John Hope” for our generation.

Obama’s Arts

Yesterday’s Times had published an article by the excellent art reporter Robin Pogrebin that infuriated me. Not her terrific reporting by any means, but its content — which seemed to suggest that any money thrown haphazardly at the arts — is a good thing. Although I’m a big fan of Obama, I’m finding his arts policies irresponsible in these dire financial days.

The story quoted multiple arts administrators — who traditionally (working through non-taxable non-profit organizations) collect salaries many times that of the actual artists and creators they claim to represent — nobly swearing on Obama’s arts legacy regarding the relatively few dollars he’s earmarked for public arts policy.

As was the central topic in my first book, “Mozart in the Jungle,” the rise of public arts funding and policy has traveled a wild and wooly road since it began in the 1950s. And yes, Virginia, the book wasn’t about sex or drugs. It is about the rise of culture in America. When the issue of government arts funding arose about 50 years ago, many maverick creatives actually argued against it — claiming that government funding would have a chilling effect on artistic innovation.

I feel peculiar arguing against public money for the arts, but I am disillusioned by what has happened in the wake of JFK’s enthusiasm for American creativity. At times it feels like some sort of government bailout for unqualified people who can’t act, sing, play an instrument, or paint, but have somehow carved out an existence and large salary “speaking” for those of us who can. The public arts world seems to have become largely about the people who administer it, not those who DO it.

There was one very disturbing graph in the story: Robert L. Lynch, the president of Americans for the Arts, a lobbying group, called the requirement limiting. “There are 100,000 arts organizations out there,” he said. “They’re all in need.”

Maybe there should be fewer arts organizations if no one’s interested. Just because people like me would like to make a living performing doesn’t mean my neighbor needs to pay my salary through taxes. And guess what Mr. Lynch earns from this “non-profit” organization? Approximately a whopping  $700,00 in salary and benefits. The top base salary for the top orchestral musician — which includes the poor schmuck having to take out a loan to finance an instrument costing as much as a house — is just over $100,000. Am I pissed off for my compatriots? You betcha.

We’ve got to stop this simple-minded whining about government funding for the arts. So much of it is going to all the wrong places that have little effect on bringing the arts to the public. I don’t believe increasing public art budgets will make a significant difference in this stormy ecoomic climate, while real changes in funding for education, poverty, and social services will serve the real warriors of the arts in a true manner. It’s time for artists to band together and find a way to make our commercial voice be heard.

Finding yourself

images2“I was sure I could do it,” said Chesley Sullenberger, the pilot who landed in the Hudson.

You must be confident in your life. In our weird economy, I’ve been thinking a lot about how people look at their jobs. Several of my more successful friends are facing bankruptcy. A few of them, in midlife, are driving taxis or seeking minimum-wage mall jobs — and not finding them because the competition is stiff! It’s a time to question why we do what we do, and how we really want to use the precious life we have for such a brief time.

I’ve been reading a lot about the hero pilot Captain Sullenberger. As it turns out, he has two masters degrees — in industrial psychology and also public administration. A veteran, he speaks and trains on the subject of airline safety. Here’s a person who followed his interests and might have remained anonymous had he not flown into a flock of geese and then used a lifetime of experience to save 150 lives. But he’s just one very public example of the many people who follow their passions to create a satisfying, yet altruistic life.

No hero pilot, I’ve found my own resonance in many ways. Trained as a musician, I’m a very good oboe player with a hefty music resume. But that was a decision my parents made for me at such an early age; I had no voice. In my late 30s, I took an aptitude test and decided to study journalism at Stanford, a place that astonished me by awarding a full tuition fellowship. That was my first clue that, although you must be responsible to your financial needs, pursuing your true talents and interests is the way to go.

Now, I’m trained not only as a performer but also as a writer. Writing is often romanticized, but what it really means is the ability to process, structure, and express big ideas in an organized way, in order to lure an audience into a foreign place, or one with which they might identify. Because I’ve had a diverse and interesting life, the journalism education fit me well, and in midlife, I’m finding successful and satisfying ways to combine all these skills and interests.

Captain Sullenberger made me re-evaluate how I would continue my education, which is of great interest to me. I’ve often thought “MBA!” as a quick fix. I could use some business knowledge. But life has taken me to a better place, and one that suits me perfectly. When I was little, I wanted more than anything to be an architect. I think it started when my parents took us to Barcelona, Spain, where I saw the fantastic facade of Antoni Gaudi’s “Sagrada Familia,” which he started in 1882. It continues to be built. Unfortunately for me, in the 1960s south, little girls didn’t become architects. I lost that dream.

After I tore through my savings after a disastrous marriage, a friend suggested real estate. He was right. I love communicating with people, and I love architecture, which is a big deal here in LA. Real estate. It seems like a stereotype, but for me, it’s a perfect fit. So much of my life was spent alone, playing the oboe in a lonely practice room. I love connecting with other people. Today, I visited two clients’ open house listings, and realized how happy it made me to not only see these design pinnacles, but also genuinely help people find the place where they will also live out their dreams.

Yes, I do real estate. But not because I have to. Because I love it. I’m also a musician, writer, and performer. I’m still the oboist I always was. Captain Sullenberger, who played the flute in high school, has gotten education in multiple fields, which made him the admirable person he is. I’ll probably never crash a plane, but I’m finding the same kind of great life as Sully and people like my historian Dad. If you want to learn more, I hope you visit my website at www.flairforgenius.com. You can do whatever you like, and although the journey may be ardous, it’s worth the trip.

bogatinToday I was lucky enough to hear a soundcheck of the San Francisco Symphony in Disney Hall. It was fun for me to be there, as I subbed with the group while earning my journalism degree at Stanford a few years back. I loved seeing my old friends, like the cellist Barbara Bogatin — in this picture, exploring the Venice, Calif. canals this past Sunday. I have known Barbara for over 30 years, since we met on one of my first professional gigs in New York.

In the half-hour rehearsal, I watched the orchestra’s virtuoso conductor, Michael Tilson Thomas, talk about phrasing and passion, shaping the musicians’ interpretation in what must be one of the most synergetic relationships within US orchestras. It’s especially impressive, as MTT has long since passed the calendar point many orchestras declare mutiny on their current leader — although perhaps there are dissenters in the ranks somewhere. A surprise visitor from the LA Opera dropped in, too, one who was obviously much-loved by the orchestra personnel.

They rehearsed Tchaikovsky Fifth, and the sound of the orchestra was ethereal, warm, and incredibly present in Disney — the hall of halls. Their new principal clarinetist, Carey Bell (and later in perfect unison with bassoonist Steve Paulson), played the opening solo so softly, and controlled, that it seemed to grow out of the walls around us. The strings were sensitive and spectacular, and as always, principal oboist Bill Bennett was bright and dark at the same time, his beautiful tone soaring over the counterpoint.

Next came Prokofiev’s Fifth Piano Concerto (which I’d never heard) with pianist Garrick Ohlsson, and then a brass fanfare by MTT. Tuesday night, the band will play a new program at Disney — Brahms’ #1, Copland’s film music for “Our Town,” and Berg’s Three Pieces for Orchestra. If you can still get tickets, go! It’s a night you won’t soon forget. Buy tickets at www.laphil.com

But Barbara had the night off in the land of cello rotation. We took off for the amazing Drago Centro restaurant, where we dined blissfully. The restaurant week menu included creamy buffalo mozzarella, lamb Osso Buco, and a complex vanilla panna cotta. We closed the place down, sharing pictures and gabbing about old friends and the new future of the arts. Sam, our waiter, didn’t rush us. And I was again moved by the family-like friendships that a life in music seems always to forge.

Fine Men

I’ve had good reason to distrust people lately, especially the male of the species. But in the last week, and in the face of the poor behavior of others, two men have floored me — and completely restored my faith in human beings.

I’ve been going through life in the way I was raised; behaving ethically and with respect for the people around me. Yet because of weird and uninformed reactions to my book, I was starting to despair that anyone would ever see me again for the person I truly am.

This week, a man from my past continued his disrespectful, abusive treatment of me — even trying to infiltrate an intellectual salon of which I’ve been a long-standing member. He wanted me to be tossed out of a meeting of my very own group, just because he wanted to attend — and even went so far as to claim he was an invited speaker. But the group’s founder circled the wagons, sticking up for me and barring my former paramour from attending, despite that man’s substantial legal ammo. After I got the news, I walked down the street standing tall — and smiling at the men passing me for the first time in three years. He did the right thing, which so few do.

And then today, I spent four hours commuting to a longstanding lunch, only to be stood up upon arrival. I needed to shop for a dress anyway, so I drove to a mall near the beachfront community, where I had lunch by myself in a California Pizza Kitchen. There was an attractive gentleman to my right at the bar counter, and we exchanged a smile. He left, and I requested my check. But the man, whom I’ll likely never see again and had no way of thanking, had paid for my meal.

Maybe it’s the new administration, and the nation’s new sense of service and pride. Maybe my life finally came together just now. Because of knowing my incredible father, I knew that men had the capacity for greatness. But whatever it is, I’m glad to learn that men in general really are the fine human beings I always suspected they might be.

Flair for Genius

tindall-black4046What with the recession, there’s been much talk of successful musicians with equally powerful parallel careers — and how they’re blasting through the recession because of multiple incomes.

It was the subject of my LA Times article on Sunday, as well as my career-consulting and public speaking company, Flair for Genius.

I’ll be talking about this exciting topic tomorrow, Thurday Jan. 15 at 2 pm EST (11 AM Pacific) on the WNYC radio program, Soundcheck. Listen live at www.nyc.org, and check out one of my parallel careers, a television travel show called Where’s Blair? Trekking the World Music Beat.

Moonlight(ing) Sonata


Margo Tatgenhorst Drakos

Margo Tatgenhorst Drakos

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/arts/la-ca-moonlight11-2009jan11,0,197922.story

From the Los Angeles Times

Musicians add second careers to their repertoires

Working on a dual track is a sound idea for some, delivering artistic as well as financial rewards.

By Blair Tindall

January 11, 2009

When celebrity photographer Barbra Porter picks up her camera, such stars as Billy Bob Thornton, Garth Brooks and Eric Clapton know she’ll make them look good. But in her other career, Porter also makes the stars sound good — by performing as a violinist for the Academy Awards telecast, on the soundtrack to “Pirates of the Caribbean” and in concert with Céline Dion.

“I think many musicians have multiple talents,” says Porter, who rejects the image of stuffy, single-minded classical artists. “A musician’s mind is often racing with ideas, yet you’re expected to just sit there without wiggling during a performance.”

Porter is one of many successful musicians who lead parallel lives, carrying on two or more high-powered careers simultaneously. Blasting through stereotypical images of the starving artist, these top studio, symphonic and theater musicians explore multiple passions without compromising their musical integrity. In doing so, they also hedge their bets against the economic downturn that is eroding arts budgets and threatening employment.

“Dual careers are almost always a bonus — both for the income and for the variety and exposure to contrasting environments,” says Barbara Sher, author of the 2006 book “Refuse to Choose: A Revolutionary Program for Doing Everything That You Love.” “And the second job might allow them to use sides of their natures that aren’t expressed as musicians.”

Manhattan Beach cellist Margo Tatgenhorst Drakos could be a poster child for Sher’s book. A former member of the American String Quartet, Drakos has taught at the Manhattan School of Music, summered at Vermont’s prestigious Marlboro Music Festival and worked as associate principal cellist with the Pittsburgh Symphony.

You’d think that any performer would be content with such a résumé. But in 2008, Drakos also earned a master’s in human rights from Columbia University’s School of International Affairs, and today she works as chief operating officer for instantencore.com, an online service in San Diego linking audiences, performers and music schools, while continuing her performing career.

Much like those of other dual-career musicians, the path Drakos forged wound unpredictably. Her executive job developed after she met high-tech board members while playing with the San Diego Symphony; her graduate studies grew out of political debates with her husband, a petroleum engineer turned physician.

“I didn’t feel qualified to back up my arguments, so I applied to Columbia in international affairs,” Drakos says. At first, she was denied admission because the college she had attended — Philadelphia’s elite Curtis Institute of Music — did not become accredited until 1993, but she was later accepted.

So complementary

As Drakos began studying at Columbia, she was surprised to feel resistance from colleagues in both the classical and the business worlds. Fellow musicians sometimes dissed her for “selling out,” she says, while co-workers in the second career assumed that she had been a failure as a musician and were distrustful of her other abilities.

Yet musicians such as Drakos often excel equally in two discrete worlds, their pursuits complementing each other. For example, mathematics and proportion learned through musical form may plug directly into another field, such as architecture or computing. Other musicians find more abstract uses for their musical training, citing the competitive nature of performing, the discipline of practicing and flexibility learned from irregular scheduling as among their professional assets.

Tenured as assistant principal cello with San Francisco Ballet, Victor Fierro is also a top real estate agent who nailed 15 deals in his first year of sales back in 1988. He keeps the two careers separate but sees how they also mesh well.

“Real estate is very compatible with a musician’s life,” says Fierro, whose busy “Nutcracker” ballet season falls during the winter house-selling doldrums. “And because I like to practice cello late evenings, I see clients late morning or afternoon.”

Many musicians such as Fierro — especially those with entrepreneurial second interests — jump at the chance to fold a new career into their existing schedules. Others, tired of working nights, weekends, holidays and at other people’s weddings, actually yearn for the regular hours of nine-to-fivers.

“Law school gave my life order and consistency,” says Rochelle Skolnick, an attorney in St. Louis who describes playing freelance violin in southern Florida as tenuous and stressful. Skolnick left her violin in its case during law school but recently started fiddling again. “Now when I’m playing, it’s like filigree,” she says.

A union musician and the daughter of a tuba player from Ohio, Skolnick at first found the formality of a legal office unsettling. However, her choice of labor law made her feel right at home; the friendly personalities of her father’s brass-player friends were similar to those of the electrical workers and pipe fitters she now champions.

‘There’s a rhythm’

Like Skolnick, nearly every musician with another career seems to feel facets of his or her old world in the new one. Some even see that new life as a lot like performing a musical work, when communication flows between players who wordlessly sense timing and emotion among themselves.

“Counseling is much like playing a symphony,” says Rae Ann Goldberg, a Bay Area violinist who is also a certified marriage and family therapist in Oakland’s Early Childhood Mental Health Program. “There’s a rhythm. There are silences. Intensity and release.”

Goldberg completed her master’s degree at the California Institute of Integral Studies after her orchestra, the Sacramento Symphony, folded in 1996. With a full schedule and increased income, she now cherry-picks only the gigs she really wants instead of accepting everything in order to survive.

“Sometimes a second career takes the financial pressure off, so they can do the work they love in the way they want to do it,” says Sher. “I say they should consider it a subsidy to the arts.”

Goldberg, like many musicians, began considering a second career only as her once-stable orchestra began imploding. Other considerations, like an uncomfortable working environment or even a serious injury, may force the change.

When a Rottweiler attacked Oakland French hornist Erin Vang, her shredded lips and face prevented her from playing the horn for four years. Fortunately, a college double major in music and math paved the way to computers, and Vang worked until recently as a facilitative leader at SAS, a statistical software company.

“Having that Plan B gave me the serenity to explore options,” says Vang, who says she thinks more musicians should consider acquiring other skills as a backup. “Any job that depends on the whims of others can be crazy-making.”

Flexible, portable

Fellow hornist Kathy Canfield can relate to Vang’s philosophy. While living in New York, Canfield grew increasingly uncomfortable in her chair in the orchestra pit for the Broadway production of “Cyrano,” playing beside a colleague against whom she had earlier filed sexual harassment charges. As the climate worsened, she took a friend’s advice and signed up for just one class in something she loved — visual art.

Paying her way through New York City’s Pratt Art Institute by performing at night in “Les Misérables,” the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra and the Metropolitan Opera’s stage band, Canfield also worked a day job for early website companies in the 1990s before founding her own firm, Canfield Design Studios, which grossed $175,000 last year.

When Canfield’s husband was appointed music librarian at UC Berkeley in September, her business made the transition seamlessly. All employees and clients interact online, she says, leaving her free to explore the Bay Area’s music scene without missing a beat.

In fact, computer work is a popular choice for musicians. Cellist Nick Dargahi works at Microsoft as a hardware verification engineer on Xbox, a game console. He’d always been interested in technology — writing manuals for games and flight simulators and working at times as a technical editor. So when his orchestra, the San Jose Symphony, went belly up in 2001, Dargahi began earning a master’s in electrical engineering from Stanford University.

Today, Dargahi is delighted with his parallel universe. Much of his work testing chips involves recognizing patterns and translating abstract ideas into symbols — much like the mental processes involved in interpreting written music. The salary’s nice too.

“The concept of pay packages was completely alien to me as a musician,” says Dargahi. “A bonus? More than a $5 tip at a party gig? I feel very lavishly treated here, no complaints.”

Dargahi’s tech work has also circled back to his artistic life — in both benefits and culture. Upon learning that Microsoft matches up to $12,000 in employee donations to any charity, Dargahi chose Ballet Fantasque, a Monterey company operated by his 97-year-old grandmother, a former Ballet Russe member.

Although respected as an engineer, Dargahi stands out to his fellow workers, who have grown accustomed to seeing him leave work clad in white tie and tails, cello in tow.

“A lot of people in the office love classical music,” says Dargahi, who now plays regularly with Symphony Silicon Valley — a reincarnation of his old San Jose Symphony. “In front of my chair in the cello section, there’s a cluster of seats we call Microsoft Row.”

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