My first memory of recording was singing along with my parents’ Mitch Miller LP. Sprawled on the floor, propped on our elbows, my brother and I sang into a compact cassette player while the record spun. Over and over we pressed clunky buttons on the recorder and shrieked while we sang, convulsing with reckless laugher and aching sides. Each replay was more hilarious than the last.
Fast forward to the serious side of recording--college audition tapes. Believe me, that's no laughing matter. I recorded at a studio owned by a family friend, Garman O. Kimmel, a man who knew something about recording. “For 30 years, Kimmell recorded, edited, and produced for radio the Oklahoma City Symphony Orchestra’s weekly performances, all at his own expense. He eventually did so on a state-of-the-art tape recorder machine that he and A. P. Van Meter designed and built.” from So much to give, the legacy of Garman Kimmel. Cut and dried and state-of-the-art, we got the job done.
As a freelancer I’ve done a variety of session work through the years--all in recording studios. That is, until recently. My last few gigs were home studio sessions. It's fascinating to see their workspace--a converted garage, a niche in a bedroom and an entire basement repurposed as a recording studio. Home studios instill a relaxed atmosphere that makes the work more amiable. And it's a welcoming touch to be greeted by the family dog.
My son writes songs but evades the studio. His charts and mp3 files arrive first in a Dropbox folder. Then with laptop and microphone in tow, he travels to record one band member at a time. (I’m honored that he makes a 1,000 mile journey to include me in his music.) It's a joy to make music with him! For an entire afternoon my teaching studio is converted into a maze of cables, microphones and music stands, every square inch of floor papered with completed charts. I'm delighted to share a completed song from his August sessions:
Fast forward to the serious side of recording--college audition tapes. Believe me, that's no laughing matter. I recorded at a studio owned by a family friend, Garman O. Kimmel, a man who knew something about recording. “For 30 years, Kimmell recorded, edited, and produced for radio the Oklahoma City Symphony Orchestra’s weekly performances, all at his own expense. He eventually did so on a state-of-the-art tape recorder machine that he and A. P. Van Meter designed and built.” from So much to give, the legacy of Garman Kimmel. Cut and dried and state-of-the-art, we got the job done.
As a freelancer I’ve done a variety of session work through the years--all in recording studios. That is, until recently. My last few gigs were home studio sessions. It's fascinating to see their workspace--a converted garage, a niche in a bedroom and an entire basement repurposed as a recording studio. Home studios instill a relaxed atmosphere that makes the work more amiable. And it's a welcoming touch to be greeted by the family dog.
My son writes songs but evades the studio. His charts and mp3 files arrive first in a Dropbox folder. Then with laptop and microphone in tow, he travels to record one band member at a time. (I’m honored that he makes a 1,000 mile journey to include me in his music.) It's a joy to make music with him! For an entire afternoon my teaching studio is converted into a maze of cables, microphones and music stands, every square inch of floor papered with completed charts. I'm delighted to share a completed song from his August sessions:
And the newest recording studio? Well, there’s one in my home...and in 52 others spread out across the globe. We’re part of something new. So new in fact, that this very week our inboxes anticipate the first composition we’ll record together. We’re members of the Twtrsymphony, “an ensemble made of classical musicians who met on twitter and wish to share their love of music with the rest of the world.” Brainchild of composer, Chip Michael, we record each part individually and send the completed file to Chip for mixing with our far-flung colleagues. Amazing!
This project takes me back to the giddy days of my first recordings. When I couldn't wait to play. Honestly, this new adventure is magical--like Wonkavision. Not a giant chocolate bar but a digital score, broken into tiny bits and sent through the air to be recorded. Back it goes through the air to be reassembled into a living orchestra performance. A tasty morsel of music not longer than 140 beats per piece. It's a crazy mix of music and technology that is so refreshingly modern that I can't wait to get started!
This project takes me back to the giddy days of my first recordings. When I couldn't wait to play. Honestly, this new adventure is magical--like Wonkavision. Not a giant chocolate bar but a digital score, broken into tiny bits and sent through the air to be recorded. Back it goes through the air to be reassembled into a living orchestra performance. A tasty morsel of music not longer than 140 beats per piece. It's a crazy mix of music and technology that is so refreshingly modern that I can't wait to get started!
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