Ladders

Last night I was back at Fat Albert's, the open mic in the Steelworkers Union Hall. This longstanding--36 year old--event has only recently moved to the Union Hall, but I can't help but notice how its new location suits its practical spirit and its emphasis on support. It's fun to be part of an event where musicians jump up spontaneously to bolster each others' performances with whatever tools they have, be they harmonies or hand-drums.

Meanwhile, back at home, I've been painting a room, so I've been climbing up and down a ladder over and over again. (The paint is a rosy shade of burnt orange called "Copper Bangle".)

As always, the roster of performers at Fat's last night was eclectic. Some sang original folk-rock songs while others played Gordon Lightfoot, Peter Gabriel and Merle Haggard tunes. One woman sang in Spanish; a man, in French.

At one point, a performer joked lightly that he'd heard "you play Fat Albert's on your way up or on your way down". He meant it in a self-deprecating way. He'd been away from the music scene for awhile and felt, perhaps, that he was on a downward trajectory.

I hadn't heard that one before.

In fact, when I thought about it, I realized that I like the place partly because many people there seem not to be focused on ladders. They're moving neither "up" nor "down". They're simply singing, in the place they happen to be. And many of them seem happy.

I've noticed that in myself, all the "up the ladder/down the ladder" evaluation of where I stand in the music industry heirarchy is just plain exhausting. All that striving gets in the way of simply being in the moment and performing to the best of my abilities.

Taking the ladder away can be a scary prospect. We're oriented toward achievement, we performer-types, and we want to think that hard work and talent will "get us somewhere", that is, lead to public recognition and financial gain. Take away the ladder, take a hard look at how few artists the entertainment industry actually supports, and do we fall (become bitter, stop creating) or fly (create for love)?

The removal of metaphoric ladders can also be helpful in turning around the performer/star/celebrity model into a service model. It became clearer to me last night that the entertainer's job is to make everyone in the room feel special...instead of expecting everyone in the room to say she is special. It can be very hard to keep these roles straight, as an artist in a celebrity-oriented culture.

From my vantage point today, the "music industry ladder" looks like a complicated and expensive contraption, off of which I am likely to painfully fall.

Better, maybe, to choose a smaller ladder, one that works for me. And to use time-honoured tools...accept helping hands...do what I can to change the colour of the room.