The Composer Blog: October 2011

On September 29 I unexpectedly saw an incredible film that moved me to write about my experience. I was also moved to record myself reading it, something I've never done. I'm delighted to share it here. You can listen to it via the Soundcloud player below, or read the transcript that follows. Hope you enjoy.

Inspiration: A True Story by Dave Volpe

Today a short film I scored (Simone) screened at the SoCal Film Festival in Huntington Beach. Being that Huntington is quite a hike from my neighborhood in Hollywood, I scanned the schedule online to see if there might be anything else worth seeing on either end of the short program. After all, the screening was scheduled for 4:50 on a Thursday afternoon, which in LA means death by traffic, so why not make the most of such a trip? I saw that just before the shorts program was a feature called "Hollywood to Dollywood." The title alone was enough to entice me, but skimming the description I saw "...travel across the country in an RV named Jolene to deliver their script to Dolly herself." Add to cart. Purchase. Done.

I arrive at the theatre and am seated in the lobby waiting for the previous showing to end. I see a slim, attractive man walk past me on his cell phone. Just a little taller than me with a pleasantly tanned complexion and clothing that tastefully displays his commitment to the gym. I smile to myself and revert back to the inescapable allure of my white iPhone. A few minutes later I look up and notice that the slim attractive man had multiplied. Twins. How nice.

A very short interval later I enter the theatre and find Ingrid, the main actress and producer of Simone. We squeal, we hug, we chat, I sit. She, like me, had arrived early to make the most of her schlep to the beach, though she was there long before I. As the lights dim for the previews, I notice the twins enter the theatre and seat themselves in the very back, several rows behind Ingrid and I. Now I confess to you, I knew absolutely nothing about this film. From the sentence description I shared with you previously I was expecting a totally over-the-top fiction. Perhaps a fun, drag-queen-filled, campy riff on Priscilla: Queen of the Desert meets Paula Deen. As the film begins I immediately realize it is quite the opposite. This is not fiction at all - this is a documentary. A documentary about two twin brothers.... curse my pretty white iPhone! I spin around and wave enthusiastically, and they wave back. Moments later it is revealed that these twins (Garry and Larry) are in fact openly gay and the movie is as much about their personal journey as it is their trip across the country to deliver their script, something that they had spent 5 years writing together, to Dolly Parton herself. You've got to be kidding - do I have good instincts or what? Then I think, shit, this is going to get seriously intense and emotional - am I really ready for this at 3 in the afternoon on a Thursday? Of course I am.

Needless to say, the film is incredible. I am impressed by many things, not the least of which being the depth of the relationship these two brothers have and the fearless candor with which they share it along with so much of themselves. The film has an incredible rawness to it, but warmly so; open, exposed, honest, but genuine and inviting, much like Dolly. We learn that she has been a present figure throughout the twins' lives. They have found comfort in her songs in their roughest times, admire her for her warm and accepting disposition, and have travelled great lengths to see her in concert. The script they've written is about their lives and incorporates their most influential figures, including Dolly. After working on it for 5 years, they've decided it's time to get it out and put it in the hands of the woman they so admire. We watch as the twins bring the script around to their friends in Los Angeles for feedback. We see the map of their route and watch as they start their trip from Dolly's star on the walk of fame in Hollywood. We see them feverishly work on editing their script down in the back of the RV while Mike, one of their boyfriends drives through the thousands of miles of straight, flat road. Along the way, amazing people are found with equally amazing stories, all adding testament to just how special these brothers are - quality people attracting quality people. A boy singing karaoke at a bar in Missouri tells of his father, who, after kicking the boy out years previously, forcing him to put himself through college, meets him on his 21st birthday, buys him his first shot of Patrón, and, filled with pride by the young man he sees before him, tells the boy how sorry he is for having misjudged him so severely. A hairdresser in Kansas City, shunned by his parents at the news of him being gay, told never to call again, finds love and acceptance from his 4-year-old son who, from the back seat of his car tells him, "daddy, I think you should have someone who loves you".

Though the twins have met Dolly on several occasions at concerts, they have no real relationship with her; no appointment, no conference call. Instead they have a plan. It's the 25th Anniversary of Dollywood and they have discovered three locations in and around the park where Dolly herself will be appearing for the festivities. They will attend each of these appearances and use one of them to get close enough to place the script in her hands. Guts. Impressive. But perhaps what I am most impressed by is the love these two brothers share for their mother. Such a statement may seem obvious, but this woman, who resides in the small North Carolina town where the boys grew up, for all the love she has for them, cannot accept their lifestyle. It's a subject that comes up throughout the film and you can tell it affects them both deeply. At one point the brothers reveal that when they finished the script, they mailed their mother a copy as they wanted so badly to share this part of their lives with her. After ten pages, mom decided she simply couldn't read it and sent it back to them. In another scene, Gary expresses to the camera how it feels to know he will never have a Thanksgiving where he, his brother, the men they love, and his family will be gathered around the same table. But no matter the context, no matter the pain, the brothers always land in the same place: "she is our mom and we love her."

The film ends. I am not a crier, but if I were, I would be in a canoe. Determined to meet the twins, I leap from my seat and make my way to the entrance where they are hovering about. This is not hard as the audience is no more than 10 people - Thursday afternoon at 3pm and I'm pretty clearly the only gay. As I step over Ingrid and her friend and make my way past the empty seats in the row, I get a sudden flash of nervousness. Lord knows there is not an ounce of bashful in my being, but... could people like this really exist? If you met me for even 10 minutes you would likely gather, among many things, that I am a very passionate person (not to mention charming and handsome - ha!). When something affects me, it gets under my skin and becomes a part of who I am. I learn from it, I talk about it, I get other people into it, I basically become Hermione Granger. This is particularly true for films. When Brokeback Mountain was released I spent two weeks in a coma (figuratively). I was so overwhelmed that I finally decided to write Annie Proulx a letter just because I felt there was no other way to get it out of me, whatever "it" was. Within a week she wrote me back in her own hand on stationery with a saddle at the top. Nearly six years and 5,000 miles later, the note still hangs on my wall. Now here I am, I've seen an incredible film, I've taken a journey with two amazing individuals, I'm feeling such a connection to them and their story (though mine is very different), and, unlike Jack and Ennis, I'm realizing they are exactly the kind of people I want to know; the kind of people that I strive to surround myself with everyday. And now here they are, steps away from me. Never have I had such an opportunity. Like if Jack and Ennis had been in the lobby after seeing Brokeback. What happens now? Are these people real?

In my usual subtle fashion, I approach the twins with arms outstretched and hug them both as if we were long estranged friends. We walk into the lobby, my sass flying, they pull me away from the crowd and we talk as if we had known each other for years. The warmth, the quality, the wholesomeness that I took from the movie was all there. Effortless. Though I had my flash of doubt, I wasn't surprised. We chatted for about 5 minutes though I tell you I could have talked with them for hours. I had to get back into the theatre to see my short film and they had to get back home and pack for a trip to Portland where their film would be showing the next day. We exchange business cards, more hugs, and then I disappear back into the theatre.

The short films play, the segment ends, and I find myself in my car driving to the beach, unwilling to brave 6pm traffic back to Hollywood and needing some time to digest. I'm a native Bostonian and so the beach will always possess a deep sense of peace for me. As I stare at the ocean meeting a disarming post-sunset sky swirled with orange and purple, I find myself not overwhelmed like I was with Brokeback, but utterly full and happy.... what is this? Ah. Inspiration. A four-letter word to most creatives it is at once elusive, yet all we live for. But I find myself asking the question: why? Why has this film and these two brothers filled me so completely? Yes, as a gay man I've had my struggles, I've overcome many obstacles, but all of them have been vastly different from the brothers' (the same was also true for Brokeback). The truth is I've never been met with opposition from anyone, much less my family. I've never been in a fight, nor have I had to overcome some huge adversity to find peace with any given situation. I am, for lack of a better term, one lucky bastard, and I make it a point to live everyday graciously and open because what else am I here to do? And then I realize that the inspiration I feel today has little to do with being a homosexual and everything to do with being human. Seeing the film and absorbing the story would have been fantastic on its own, but having a conversation with the brothers really connected the dots for me. It reminded me just how much I love connecting with people - hearing their stories, learning where they come from, what makes them tick. The whole experience of today is exactly what I as both an artist and a human lives for. It inspired me so fully because so much of who I am was either represented in what I saw and who I met or fed by my simply being there - this was my Dolly Parton. And all I had to do was go to a screening at 3 in the afternoon in Huntington Beach.

As I think about my everyday life, I realize just how obvious this is. I talk to everyone everywhere all the time - I am on a first name basis with all the baristas at my local coffee shop, I make friends with Trader Joe's employees, hell I once got 1000 free rollover minutes for making the customer service lady laugh. I simply cannot turn it off. The truth is I never feel better than when I am making strangers laugh or making my current friends feel good. I can't speak for other artists, but as a film composer I can say that I spend a good part of my time trying to mine inspiration from my computer screen. My business works in such a way that I'll work non stop for weeks, sometimes months - whatever the job calls for. It becomes alarmingly easy to forget that the rest of the world exists. Sure, I get ideas, I create music that I'm proud of, but it is often an arduous process - a job with a boss and a deadline forcing me to produce and create. Then, as easily as the work takes over it vanishes completely and I am left with only myself, which is always terrifying. I become so ensconced in the mundane details of life like why I've run out of orange juice or where the hell my next paycheck is coming from that I continue to forget the rest of the world spinning around me. That was where I was until this afternoon - forgetting where the inspiration truly lies. How can I expect to be creating if I am in fact not out experiencing?

I had no idea that going to a short film screening would bring me to see such a moving film, nor could I have predicted that in meeting the men behind said film would I wind up here talking into a microphone, expressing myself in a totally new creative outlet. And to me that is the beauty of being an artist, particularly in Los Angeles - life is our canvas, who knows what it will bring? The lesson I'm relearning is that in order to be the best composer I can possibly be I am required to step away from the very medium to which I am so devoted. But the fullness I felt from my experience with the brothers will not come if I simply sit at home and do other things that bring me happiness like listening to new music, watching various movies and random TV shows on netflix, and creating new recipes that will fill the halls of my building with men-attracting aroma. What makes experience significant for me is the context of human interaction. Cooking is meaningless when you are cooking for no one. So, what really is important is leaving my studio and saying yes to all that the universe has to present to me. Not going on a mission, not being determined to find anything, just simply saying yes.

I've come to the conclusion that inspiration is like finding the man (or woman) of one's dreams. He cannot be forced into existence, one will not find him if one is looking, and he certainly will not materialize in one's studio while staring at a computer screen. When true inspiration meets us, it fills us and informs all aspects of our existence, especially our art. Therefore all we can do is make sure we do our best to live fully at all times. Like love, inspiration cannot be created - it can only be lived.

I am not a spoiler, so I am not going to tell you whether or not the twins make their moment with Dolly. But, what I will tell you is that if you find yourself near a screening of this movie and you're gay, straight, bi, curious, confused, methodist, or just simply alive, you should see it. But whether or not you do, I hope the lesson here is obvious: we must keep filling the well lest it dry up; indeed we must make the time and the effort to step out into the world and meet our Dolly.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Published!

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Newest Video Reel Posted

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Inspiration: A True Story