back on track

Got back on track today with a solid four-hour stint of caixa practice. Went through every Monobloco pattern I know, every samba pattern I know. I finally cleared up some lingering confusions that have been bugging me about the Monobloco repertoire, especially the hand signs:

"Big C" sign means Coco in Bangalafumenga, but means Congo in Monobloco
"Pointed-roof" sign means Maracatu in Banga, but means Coco in Monobloco
"Big X" means Xote in Banga, but means Samba-Charme in Monobloco
"Two Fingers Down" means Afoxe in Banga, but means Samba Break 2 in Monobloco
"Circle" means Funk in both groups. Thank god.

I played a long, long time. Started with slow drills that Andre Moreno gave me to improve my technique and efficiency; then moved on to Fred Castillo's single-stroke warmup (see below); then went through all the samba patterns, slow and fast. Then went through every Monobloco pattern I could remember. Then found all my Monobloco practice recordings and played along with all of them. It was a really, really good workout and I could feel things clearing up even just during this one workout. The Xote Pattern #2 got easier. The double-buzz in the Afoxe was buzzier, more believable. Marcha 3, my nemesis, is a bit faster. The Mangueira samba started to click sometimes into a lovely swing.

So, it GOT BETTER! Practice makes better - it always does! I just wish I had this much time to put in on every instrument every day! I'm aching for a stint on repique like this, and one on pandeiro, and one on third surdo too.

After my little choro camp crisis, I have been re-thinking my musical goals and what exactly I am aiming for. The reason I was panicking about the choro camp, I now realize, is that I have been getting incredibly nervous about time running out and I've had this awful sense that this next month is my last chance to learn EVERYTHING that I ever want to learn, every genre, every instrument, quick, learn it all NOW, INSTANTLY! I'm running out of money and have to go back to work soon, probably for one year, to earn some real money again. That means I'll have to table music for a while, and I very likely won't be able to come to Brazil next season. "Tabling music" doesn't mean I wouldn't do it at all - in fact, if it all works out, I'll be playing with the Lions! But, I definitely won't have as much time for it, and won't be able to travel.

It'd only be for one year, and I'd earn enough money to be able to travel the year after that, so you'd think I could be patient about it. But as I just told another friend, the thought of putting music on the back burner even for just one year is freaking me out! I just have to have faith that if I work hard for a year, I can pick up music again on the other side, and go travelling again. Keep chasing my strange little dreams.

Anyway it was good today to realize that my playing IS improving. I've been thinking of what one of my friends told me recently about not being too hard on myself: "You have to accept your limits". But, if I had accepted my limits, I wouldn't have gotten this far. I think I have already exceeded my limits! I would never have started snare drum if I'd had any logical sense of knowing my limits.

There's some physical limits I do accept: power, and speed. I know I'll never have the power of the guys, and never have the blisteringly fast rolls of the young drummers. But outside of those two, it all seems up for grabs...even a sestuplet roll at 140bpm seems within reach, if I can just put in enough practice time! (I know it's within reach, because every now and then I accidentally do one correctly.)

I remember what Chris Stromquist told me once during a conga lesson: "There'll always be some young kid who's faster and louder. But if you can play really beautifully, really musically, you'll always be in demand."

My know-your-limits friend had a good point though. Her real point was: Don't be so hard on yourself. The number-one piece of advice that every one of my close friends eventually says to me. I can't help it; I seem to have built-in high standards.

OK, enough philosophizing for now. More about caixa, for those who are also learning:

Fred always starts his Monobloco caixa classes by taking everybody through a series of very simple single-stroke drills that sort of stunned me with its obviousness and effectiveness. Why had I never done these drills before? Somehow I'd always just drilled with paradiddles, but my single stroke drills have been stupidly unorganized. Fred simply takes you through a logical sequence of 8 measures each of:

Rlrl
rlRl
rLrl
rlrL

...always tapping your foot on the main beat. duh, this is obvious, I should have been doing this all along! I couldn't believe how clumsy I was with the syncopated left-hand ones! My foot wouldn't keep going! This should have been dirt-simple but it wasn't.

Next, circle through the possible combinations of having 2 strong accents:
RLrl
rLRl
rlRL
RlrL

This last one is the basic samba caixa pattern, and at that point Fred starts swinging it, and then starts cycling us through Monobloco's five samba patterns:

1. Basic RlrL, aka "Timbal" or "Iniciante" (beginner)
2. Salgueiro
3. Mocidade
4. Mangueira - he uses the version with a lot of double-rights
5. Ilha

I add a #6, Sao Clemente, and a #7, Banga. That about covers every possible motif for samba caixa.

Fred INSISTS that you MUST TAP YOUR FOOT on the downbeat during all of these drills. He doesn't make you do the little stepping patterns that some teachers do, but he insists you've got to have the beat going somewhere in your body. Monobloco is rather fanatical about this - there's nothing they hate like the sight of a drummer standing stock-still.

Like Michael Spiro says: "God gave you feet so you could tap the beat!"