Imagine

Saturday night's gig at The Food Lover's Market was special in quite a few ways. Firstly, I had to drop my teenaged son in Claremont an hour before I needed to be at my gig, so I had a very early start. Usually I get there between 6 and 6:30pm, but this time I got there just after 5. What was already special about the day was that it had rained all day! And not soft, gentle rain (jazz standard, Gentle Rain -beautiful piece!), but quite a heavy downpour. Superb for the garden, but not for my instruments as I was loading my car, nor for my hair! So I got to my gig looking like a wet dog, and sought (unsuccessfully) to find a "cool" attitude that would make the look seem intentional. On the best of days, my hair does its own thing, so I wondered, after the rain had put paid to the efforts of the shampoo and conditioner, what exactly my hair would decide to do that night, when it dried! See above photos! Haha! There are some things in life I can control, and then there's my hair!

So I carted my equipment upstairs, with the help of the doorman, and saw, to my delight, the high chairs we'd asked the owner for, a few weeks ago. The entire bandstand looked better, because we now also have our speakers on stands. I've always had a funny relationship with high chairs, at gigs! I hate chairs that are slippery and ones that don't accommodate my....em.... let's say, "girth", but I particularly don't get along with chairs that swivel! And the new chairs at FLM do exactly that, so now Wayne and I are a swinging duo. You dare not sneeze, because when you open your eyes, you might just have your back towards the audience!

After I'd set up, I ordered a cup of coffee, and sat down to do some planning for my 6 December show. That was a valuable timeslot, for me. It also gave me time to dry, to unwind and to prepare mentally for the gig. As a mom, it's hard to find a whole lot of time to sit and write. Of course, being a "part-time" mom, I get every second week to myself, so I try to regulate my space craving to coincide with that schedule, but, as you can imagine, it doesn't quite work that way. There's nothing organic about this way of living. After 9 years of it, I should know.

But, back to the gig.
I did three of my own compositions, and that always makes the gig more special for me. More than that, Wayne's playing adds a whole new dimension to my compositions. It's such a personal thing, such a risk, in a way, performing songs you've written: you can't help but be very invested in the moment. At restaurants, people talk all the time while you're singing, and you sort of end up singing for yourself and your friends who're actually listening. Which is why some musicians take stupid chances at gigs, settling for the path of least resistance, playing the same old material for years, not rehearsing, not freshening up their acts, allowing stupid mistakes to remain uncorrected, week after week. I don't subscribe to such mediocrity - I'm there to do a job, a job I love, so I'm going to work hard before, during and after the gig, always putting my best out there. That's one of the reasons I enjoy working with Wayne - he's a total perfectionist, and a consummate professional. I'm learning so much from him.

My partner was there, and that's always super-cool for me. He's such a supportive guy. I often wonder if he doesn't get sick and tired of coming to the gigs, but when I look up at a certain time of the night, there he is, and the little spark inside of me grows into a flame. What can I say...... he's my Achilles heel.

There was a big group of people who insisted on sitting up close to the bandstand, who spoke and laughed loudly all night, and took no notice of the music. After our very last song, our own version of John Lennon's "Imagine", they applauded like we were superstars. Imagine!

Fortaleza

I could look at this picture for hours. I took it in Fortaleza, in the north-east of Brazil. It's my current desktop wallpaper. I love walking in the shallow part of the sea, where the water occasionally rushes up to cover my feet. In Cape Town, I love walking on Muizenberg Beach. Another fabulous beach to walk on is Noordhoek, and of course, the divine beach at Wilderness, on the Garden Route.

Music Inside Of Me

Tonight I do my next duo gig with Wayne at The Food Lover's Market, my 19th consecutive Saturday there, and the start of our fifth month. A few years ago, I had a 5-month resident gig at Off Moroka, in Adderley Street. I worked there with guitarist Keith Tabisher, and our duo grew into a trio when Donald Gain, a double bassist, joined us. The restaurant has since closed, and unfortunately the enigmatic guy who ran it, Richard Ishmail, has since died. I have many fond memories of that place, and one of them is doing my first guest appearance as a songwriter at one of the Poetry Sessions organised by Richard. That was in 2004, the day that South Africa heard the shocking news of Brenda Fassie's death. I remember a fairly inebriated guy in the audience asking me my opinion of her (music), and there was something so threatening about his demeanour, that I needed to draw on all my diplomatic vocabulary, to get through the experience intact, and to get to my performance in a focussed way!

I did a half-hour slot of my own compositions, accompanying myself on guitar.
The audience was filled with poets and others who had come to listen to poetry, so my inclusion, a departure from the usual programme, may easily not have been welcomed. To my delight (and relief!), the response was not only tolerant, but extremely positive, with people asking me all kinds of questions afterwards. It gave me an idea, for the first time ever, of how my songs mght be received by the public, were I to expose them more.

I sang my songs at a few other poetry sessions, organised by Dala Flat Music, and there again I realised that:
1. I needed a listening audience, like the ones that attend poetry sessions
2. people enjoyed my songs

What astounded me was how many women would come up to me after a performance and say they'd had similar experiences to what I'd sung about, but that they could never have articulated their feelings like I had done in my lyrics. That was interesting.

There was a time in my life that I thought I'd never sing my songs in public, because I was constantly told that they were "too personal". I've come a long way since then: I trust my own judgement about what's right or wrong for me.

In four weeks' time, I do a concert of original compositions, called "Music Inside Of Me", one of my song titles. I had been married for six years when we split up, and it was while I was going through a year-long divorce, that I wrote the song. I remember a friend commenting, when I told her I'd just written my first song since the split, " I suppose it's a sad song". I looked at her, smiled and shook my head. It was anything but a sad song! I realised how different people's perceptions of us can be to what we're actually feeling.

The gist of the song is, "If there's music inside of you, you've got to let it out."
I had had a period of years of viewing myself through someone else's eyes, of allowing someone else's perception of me to cloud my own, and I had emerged with the clarity I'd lacked before - that there's only thing you HAVE to do in life, and that's to be exactly who you are. (In one of her books, Maya Angelou says there are only two things she has to do in life: stay black, and die!). I'd tried to be what I wasn't, suppressing the confident, spontaneous, goofy side of me, and after too many years of failing myself in that way, I made a choice to free myself, and to live a more authentic life. The best way I could process that experience was to write about it, and because music and words course through my veins as naturally as my heart beats, I wrote a song about it.

An astrologer told me, once, that my relationship with someone had been karmic, and I asked what that meant. She explained that certain people were sent our way to teach us valuable lessons. It had nothing to do with how long the relationship lasted, or what the nature of the relationship was - it just meant that through that person's influence, positive or negative, you would learn certain important lessons. I now know that some of my most valuable lessons have been learnt through what seemed like extremely adverse circumstances. Which is also why I'm as patient as I am, because my Great Teacher, my garden, has shown me that sometimes you can't avoid handling some fertiliser before the true beauty of the garden can emerge.

But, I digress!

I need one more musician to complete my band for the 2-set concert on the 6th of December. This week, I'll choose the songs I'll be doing, and start working on them. I'm so excited, because I feel like my music has come alive in the past year, since I started taking lessons with Wayne, and I'm looking forward to performing my original songs to an audience, with my new approach, some new chords, and of course some new songs. I'm putting a fresh spin on all the songs, whether by changing the arrangements, the chords, the rhythms or the tempos. This concert will be different to any other I've done, where I've performed my compositions. The most important shift, with the whole show, will be the shift that's happened (and continues to happen)inside of me. Which is why I chose that title for the show. I'm way past the time of wondering how people will receive my songs - these are my creations, my inner processes, and all I'm doing is sharing them with the public. I don't care who likes them and who doesn't, who thinks they're too personal, or not African enough - seriously, I don't care.

Like recently, I had my hair cut, and had to deal with all the comments that people always feel they need to make. A young colleague (with the most amazing hair - long, funky, super-curly!), when I shared some of the comments with her, said, "People ask me why I don't wear my hair this way or that, and I always reply: Why would I want to look like everyone else?!". Oh, to have been that wise that young!

And so, with just a few weeks to go, I have a lot of organising to do. This week, I'm getting the tickes printed and starting with my 4-week marketing programme. I need to contact the media, and get some photos out there, as well as an article or two. I need to spend time on the overall concept, and work on how it translates into the details, the little extras one adds, to make the show memorable. If I can, I'll have it recorded, but I want it done properly or not at all. I have to think about the stage, the printed programme, etc. etc.

This is what makes me tick!

Candlelight

There's something about this time of year, starting from September, that makes me feel that absolutely anything is possible! On Saturday I had my hair cut (a sure sign that a woman is welcoming change into her life) AND blow-dried (really not my thang!), which felt like some kind of new beginning. (The picture above was taken on Saturday night, at my gig at Food Lover's Market.)

It really was a 'new beginning' kind of weekend, because on Sunday night, Wayne and I played our first-ever gig at Baran's Theatre Restaurant, on Greenmarket Square, and it was so cool. We worked with a well-known electric bass player, Bernie Lawrence, and it gave our duo a whole new sound. I learnt many valuable lessons in the process. Yup! The acoustics are very flattering, so the sound was lovely! Four of our foreign students (I work at an English school) pitched up, and one of them, Jacob, from Angola, came up to sing a song with us. He has a great voice - so, so beautiful - deep, smoky, magical! I'd love to sing a duet with him, because our voices contrast so strongly.

And then it was Monday, and a whole new week. My children are back home and all's right with my world. My guitar lesson is tomorrow, and that's my mid-week highlight. Tonight I'll cram in all my homework that I should've been doing all week (heehee! Sorry, Wayne!) and take the journey a few steps further tomorrow.

Last week, in my lesson, I found the courage to play an instrumental piece I'd composed a few months ago, and it was well received. (phew!) It's interesting to me how many ultra-laid-back, subdued-seeming people I have in my close circle, being the chatterbox I am; when praise is forthcoming from one of them, firstly I have to be alert to the fact that it is indeed praise, and secondly I have to receive it and enjoy it. It's a breakthrough for me to have written such a piece, and I've decided to call it "Candlelight".

Some amazing gig offers have come my way, but no details on the blog until confirmed. I need to start marketing my next gig at Baran's, which will be on Sunday 15 November, at lunchtime, 12 - 3pm. Need to find a guitarist, because Wayne's got a regular Sunday lunch gig. Also need to start getting my act together for my concert on Sunday 6 December, which will be all original material.

Time to go. More when I have time.

How does the grapevine know?

Just a quick note before I start my next round of activity for the day. I'm an amateur gardener - extremely amateur; the kind who likes to look at a nice garden, but prefers not to do the work herself. Actually, that's not entirely true; it's just that I'm SO busy, I seldom get time, on a regular basis, to work in the garden. When I do, it's limited to pulling out a couple of weeds and filling up the beds or pots with compost. Every now and then, I really get in the mood for gardening, and then I like to plant new seedlings and play around with the potting soil and compost, finishing it all off with watering. Now that's the part I really enjoy. In fact, anything involving water. I hate housework, especially the tasks that involve dust, because I'm allergic to it.

But one thing about the garden fascinates me more than the pretty colours of the blossoms and the cool shade of the trees - I'm fascinated by the lessons I've learnt from my garden. I've learnt from my garden that there's a natural cycle to things, and that if we wait long enough, there'll be another opportunity to experience something, usually within 12 months.

I've toyed with the concept of "How does the grapevine know?" for a while. The grapevine starts showing signs of life round about July, and by this time of the year, late October, it's full of bunches of ant-sized baby grapes. By December they're recognisable as grapes, with the vine filled with vibrant green leaves, and by January/February,we're picking and eating the fruit.

The thing is, by March/April, the vine looks as dead as can be, with the branches all gnarled and dried, as though it hadn't been part of an amazing life-giving process. And throughout winter I look at it and I wonder,..... is it REALLY dead, this time round, or is it going to start reviving in a few months' time? And when it does, year after year, I ask myself: "How does the grapevine know? "

The garden teaches me that when I plant a seed and nurture it, it will grow. When I neglect it, it won't. If I take good care of it for long enough, it will give me something beautiful in return - sometimes, shades of green that make me stare in disbelief, sometimes edible fruit, and sometimes blossoms so stunning, I can't believe such beauty exists right in my yard!

My garden teaches me that when I plant tomatoes, it will yield tomatoes, and when I plant daisies, it will give me daisies. My garden teaches me to be specific - don't plant daisies if you want roses - then you need to take the necessary steps to plant roses!

My garden teaches me that when I let the weeds grow, uncontrolled, they'll flourish and take over, simply because they've been given the space and time to do so.

My garden teaches me that it's not just what I can see that can calm me and put a smile on my face: when the wind wafts the delicate smell of lavender towards me, or I cut some and put it inside the house, I know, without a doubt, that beauty is to be experienced with all my senses.

When I was pregnant with my daughter, in 1998, a very good friend gave me two pot plants, and they were clivia plants. Five years later, they bloomed for the first time, and have done so every year. We gathered the seeds and nurtured them indoors and now we have a whole lot of clivia. And everytime they bloom, they take my breath away!

I also know that some flowers bloom for a long time, while others lose their petals very quickly, which is another lesson: I try not to take good fortune/blessings for granted; when we have them, we should enjoy them. Carpe diem!

I think the most important lesson I've learnt from my garden is that, when you see that you've messed up, and you make a decision to do something about it, life does give you another chance. If my garden looks terrible, from being neglected, and I consciously set about changing what I don't like, I'm guaranteed to have a beautiful garden within a relatively short space of time. My garden always forgives me and allows me to try again. My garden doesn't judge me.

My garden knows me, and reveals to me its beauty when I need it most.

Do, or don't do

It's been an exciting few months, for me, and I can feel the momentum building. On the 4th of July, this year, I started a duo gig (with Super-Wayne, Wayne Bosch) at The Food Lover's Market, in Claremont, and set myself a series of goals, because that's what I love to do. Some were (and always will be) more private than others, but the fact is, I've had an amazing time! Most of the goals were in the category of pushing personal boundaries and seeing how far I could go. Some were more altruistic, and some were just practical. Crooner, Michael Buble, in a silly moment during a recent interview, quoting a character from Star Wars (I think), said, "There's no such thing as try -there's just do, or don't do."
I like that concept. Over the past few months, I've sung songs I'd never have attempted a year ago - and the fun part is that while I'm singing, I'm checking myself out and thinking, "Ok, so you're doing this now - let's see how you do in the chorus, then the bridge, then the next verse, then the whole form again with some improvisation...." It's like a game, an experiment, but I'm never going to know if I can or not, unless I actually DO!

In many other parts of my life, I apply the same principle. Right now, I've committed to a project with Baran, a really nice person with great integrity, and a restaurant owner (owns Baran's and Mesopotamia, both in the Cape Town CBD), and a lot of what I'm doing is just pure gut feel. I love music, all forms of creativity, I love Cape Town, and I absolutely love Greenmarket Square, where Baran's Theatre Restaurant is located. This Sunday, I realise quite a few dreams, when I perform in my first gig there, alongside Super-Wayne.

Over the years, I've compiled a list of my dream gig venues, and Baran's was one of them: in 5 days' time, I achieve that dream! One that I seriously hope to achieve within the next year (I'll have to just open my mouth and talk to people, won't I?!) is the top of Table Mountain. (And no, playing my guitar in the overnight hut doesn't count!) Watch this space! Some of my others were Kirstenbosch (managed the Silvertree Restaurant, as part of the winter concerts, but not the outside venue), the amphitheatre at the V&A Waterfront (1998), the Table Bay Hotel (2008/9), Spier Wine Farm (did the Spier Village Hotel, but not the outside venue) and Strandloper (did a wedding there, a few years ago). Like a lot of other South Africans, I've also had on my dream gig list performing to Nelson Mandela. Wonder if he eats at Baran's?

And then there's Trevor Manuel......but that's another story!

Revised gig e-mail for this week

Hi

Yes! Yes! Yes! After 4 months of one weekly gig, I have added a second one!

Please spread the word!

Gig 1
Date: Sat 31/10
Time: 7 - 10pm
Venue: The Food Lover's Mkt Restaurant & Sushi Bar (upstairs)
Address: Corner Vineyard & Dreyer Streets, Claremont
Band: TRUDY RUSHIN (voice, guitar) & WAYNE BOSCH (guitar)
Music: Laid-back jazz, swing, pop and originals
Menu: General menu OR Saturday night special: 3-course meal + glass of wine, only R95
Cover charge: None


Gig 2
Date: Sun 01/11
Time: 6 - 9pm
Venue: Baran's Theatre Restaurant (upstairs)
Address: Corner Burg & Shortmarket Streets, Greenmarket Square, Cape Town
Band: TRUDY RUSHIN & Guest Guitarist (as part of "Spirit of Cape Town" Concert Series)
Music: Laid-back jazz, swing, pop, African and originals
Menu: Special "Spirit of Cape Town" menu: Main course (lamb/chicken/vegetarian), only R50
Cover charge: R30
Bookings: 021-426 4466

Baran's Theatre Restaurant launches its "Spirit of Cape Town" Concert Series this Sunday, 1st November, with its resident duo, headed by singer-songwriter, TRUDY RUSHIN, a born and bred Capetonian, to celebrate its re-opening after recent upgrades to both the restaurant and Greenmarket Square.
Over the coming weeks, Trudy will be showcasing talented Capetonians at this delightful venue: musicians, dancers, poets, etc.
Baran has come up with a delicious main course, at a very special price, to accompany the live entertainment, in keeping with the true spirit of the Mother City.

Please pass this e-mail on along your networks.

If you would like to find out more about being a guest in the "Spirit of Cape Town" Series, or you would like to recommend someone, please e-mail me at rushintrudy@yahoo.com or call me at 083 491 3048.

I will be keeping my blog updated, as well: http://alwaysrushin.blogspot.com

On Sun. 6 December, I'll be doing a concert of my original music at Baran's Theatre Restaurant, with a very special band. More info to follow.

“We have, at our fingertips, an infinite capacity to light a spark of possibility.”

From “The Art Of Possibility”, by Rosamund Stone Zander and Benjamin Zander