“By
the time he put the finishing touches on the Rite
of Spring in
November of 1912 in the Châtelard Hotel in Clarens, Switzerland,
Stravinsky had spent three years studying Russian pagan rituals,
Lithuanian folk songs and crafting the dissonant sacre chord,
in which an F-flat major combines with an E-flat major with added
minor seventh. The rehearsal process wasn’t easy either. Stravinsky
fired the German pianist and the orchestra and performers only had a
few opportunities to practice at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées
in Paris, where the Rite debuted
in May 1913. But the Russian born composer pulled it off, and his
composition now stands as a 20th
century masterpiece.”
Everyone
says that Bozeman is a fun town, and I realized that I really haven't
done too much in the city as a simple citizen. With all of the recent
news of what happens in sports when an athlete wants something too
badly, I took it as a sign that I'm training as hard as possible, and
what will happen will happen, so why not have a little more fun when
I'm not in class or on the corduroy? Biathlon isn't going anywhere, and neither is my work ethic towards it, and I have plenty of time to become a champion. Afterall, only so
much stress can melt into the snow before it turns to water, and spring semester is supposed
to be all about having fun.
So
that's how I found myself at Wild Joes Coffee Spot on a Wednesday
evening with a ukulele in my hand and no idea what I was doing. I had
arrived early in order to survey the situation, and started to warm
up on my own in a lone corner. All of a sudden,
sweet soprano twangs began to fill the house with tropical vibes.
Looking up, a flash mob of hipsters, old folks, and everyone in
between were pulling out ukuleles from their packs and purses and
proceeding to jam together. This was the Bozeman Ukulele Cabaret, a
somewhat underground musical community in Montana where the only rule
is to not take oneself too seriously.
Over
the past few years I've trained myself on the ukulele to what I
thought was a fairly elite level, but alas this past Wednesday I met
men whose prowess of the ukulele was only surpassed by their
collective level of kook. These guys had commissioned Gibson luthiers
to hand-make their “axe” (their term not mine), and could solo
like a Hawaiian Jimmy Page. After getting over my initial shock of
this funny collection of people, I spent the next two hours belting
out Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, and Neil Young until my fingers
blistered and my voice was hoarse. It was the first time I had an
audience, and it was definitely a departure from my usual college
routine, but it was fun knowing that it's impossible to mess up on
the ukulele. All
this jamming culminates at the “Lovers and Martyrs” open mic on
Valentines Day, and I've already started putting together a setlist.
Beware Bozeman, beware...
So
when someone asks what I'm doing instead of going to World Juniors
for biathlon, they can say something like “well he's still racing
for Montana State I think, and he's joined this ukulele club and rarely updates his blog.... other than that I think he's just kind of being spontanaeous”
I
am so ok with this.
