BLUE PEOPLE

Rebekah Van Tinteren - X1600653.jpg

A few weeks ago, I played in an instrumental, sundown, meditational concert created by pianist Ty Rex. Tyler asked me to share my compositions, melodies, a song – whatever I wanted! It was a stunning experience to play live and so close to an audience in the intimate space. As I was sharing the journey of my melodies and talking with the audience, a distinct memory came to mind.

I was 13 years old and taking a music composition class at my Special Music High School. The task was to set a poem to music and I chose ‘Blue People’. I sat at the piano and crunched out some cluster chords by ear. Immediately, I sang out the melody to frame the words over the chords. “Blue people of air, spin fire in the sky as the wind takes hold……” Even now, I can still hear the unusual melody in my head.

I notated the melody onto staff paper and submitted my homework. I received an ‘F’. When I visited with the composition teacher. I could tell he was a mix of mild irritation and a little amusement. “These chords don’t follow any conventional rules. The key signature is ‘fluid’ and the melody and chords don’t go together. Besides that, it’s unplayable.”

“I can play it.”

“I’d like to see that.”

I sat at the shiny, black upright piano in the choir room. Staring at my manuscript paper, fingers on keys black and white, I played the unplayable chords and sang the melody that didn’t make sense to him and out the corner of my eye I saw his eye twitch, widening ever so slightly as his eyebrow raised. An awkward pause hung in the air. He inhaled, then exhaled slowly. “Fine, you can play and sing it, but I’m giving you a ‘B’ because no one else will be able to interpret it.”

It wasn’t until the concert with Ty Rex that I realized the power of my composition teacher’s words. They were revelatory into my future process and exactly how my relationship with melody has always been - and still is. Those words were the beginning of a thread that is with me today. I’m aurally driven, a little unconventional, and importantly, my melodies make the most sense when I deliver them myself. Standing in the midst of candles, glass windows overlooking the sunset and a grand piano, I remembered my strengths.

Sundown Concert, Pilgrim Church, Redding, CA (photo credit: Seth McGaha)

Sundown Concert, Pilgrim Church, Redding, CA (photo credit: Seth McGaha)

I do wish my teacher had let me in on the secret that musicians create melodies in all sorts of ways. My way began with utilizing my aural strength as the starting point to work from. I wish he had encouraged me to keep pursuing the established structure of composition and how it developed historically, because, learning the ways of artistic masters is important. Knowing where you come from leads to musical purpose, freedom and creativity in expressing your musical voice today. Give the girl some context! Instead of seeing myself as aurally creative, I felt quietly rebellious to conventions, and this confusion kept me quiet in my musical expression.

It took me years to recognize that when I hear a melody, an unusual chord progression or a choir in my head that does not leave me alone, I am a caretaker. I am a steward of the melody bringing it from my internal world to the external world.

Ty Rex, Pilgrim Church, Redding, CA (photo credit: Seth McGaha)

Ty Rex, Pilgrim Church, Redding, CA (photo credit: Seth McGaha)

When I heard Elizabeth Gilbert’s Ted Talk on creativity, it affirmed that I was in fact, creative. I realized the way I hear melodies is how artists forever have acknowledged a visit from the muse. Call it what you will, this otherworldly communication is my musical inspiration. Nothing is more powerful to me than translating a melody I did not feel I wrote myself.

Often, it takes me time to analyze these melodies because they are not crafted to a formula. I hear them in full and try to ‘capture’ the lines before they are lost, although sometimes they do come back to me. Sometimes, I have to work out what timing and metre they are in because they tend to swing between different time signatures as was the case with my instrumental ‘Basel:Whemut and Homecoming’. They also change tempo (speed) which can make them tricky to record in a studio. Sometimes, a melody I’ve created in a live setting spontaneously will follow me off the stage and hang around until I do something with it. (My album ‘Rather have You Wild’ is full of these melodies.)

It feels strange to put my name to some of these melodies because it feels like they wrote themselves and just happened to find a willing vessel in me to have ‘ears’ to hear them. If they’ve taken the time to chase me down, they deserve to be heard on a wider scale. When a melody visits me, I always ask, “Is this melody for me or is it for me to share?” To share is a long process of capturing, notating, arranging, recording, producing, releasing and rehearsing for a live audience.

You can find my recordings of INSTRUMENTALS and SONGS HERE.

You can purchase my melodies as SHEET MUSIC with a BACKING TRACK HERE.

You can find Ty Rex on Spotify HERE.

If you write instrumental music or songs, I’d love to know your process!