"If there's music inside of you, you've got to let it out." (From my song, Music Inside of Me)

Hi! I'm Trudy Rushin, and this is my blog, created in June 2009. I am a singer-songwriter-composer who plays guitar. Born and bred in Cape Town, South Africa, I blog about whatever captures my imagination or moves me. Sometimes I even come up with what I like to call 'the Rushin Solution'. Enjoy my random rantings. Comment, if you like,
or find me on Facebook: Trudy Rushin, Singer-Songwriter.

I also do gigs - solo, duo or trio - so if you're looking for vocal-guitar jazz music to add a sprinkle of magic to your event, send me an e-mail to guitartrudy@gmail.com.

To listen to me singing one or two of my original songs, type my name on www.soundcloud.com or www.youtube.com


















Thursday 19 April 2018

Dancing & Statistics


Dancing

I’ve just finished a 50-minute dance session. This is about 5 – 10 minutes longer than usual, but I was having such fun, I couldn’t stop.

I recently told someone that I danced, and she asked if I did spiritual dancing. (This is how people perceive me?!) I wanted to get all word-nerdy and philosophical, and say that the dancing I did was indeed deeply spiritual, but I knew what she meant, so I behaved myself and answered appropriately, like a good girl. 😊 

So what kind of dancing do I do, and why dance at all? Basically, I have a playlist of old-school songs that make you want to move your body, and I do whatever comes to mind, for anything from 30 – 45 minutes. I put on my exercise clothes, let my earphones connect my phone to my ears,  put the phone into a moonbag around my waist, dim the lights in my bedroom, and off I go. I try for every second day, but life has a way of knocking the routine out of me, and sometimes I have to skip more than one day. So now the goal is three times a week. I’ve always loved dancing - I love the absolute abandonment of moving my body to music, and it serves the purpose of keeping me in regular exercise at a time of my life that I don’t have either the time or the money to go to gym. Besides all of that, I spend most of my life craving two things – music, and solitude – and dancing at home feeds my soul with both. With the music right inside my ears, I hear every drumbeat, every instrument, every pause, every nuance and every breath of the vocalist, and I allow all of that to pulsate through my body and transport me into a world I wish I could inhabit every second of my life. The fact that I’m getting fitter by doing this is a beautiful bonus. I like the fact that I’m not competing with anybody and that I don’t have to be instructed by anyone, nor do I have to get done quickly because someone else needs the space. No – it’s a blissful, controlled environment, and it’s my escape.  I love it.

The truth is, I dance to release energy. I had a really crap day today, and the residue threatened to stay with me throughout the night and wake up with me tomorrow. I really didn’t want that. I’d skipped last night, and I really needed to dance tonight. One of the most beautiful things about dancing (I know I’ve written about this before) is that it makes me smile.  It makes me so happy, I burst into smiles and can’t stop. I think if you have that kind of experience on a regular basis, a smile is never far from your face. I know - I’m such a nerd.   

I’ve also danced when I’ve been deliriously happy, as well as abysmally sad. I’ve found my peace in dancing on many occasions when people have hurt or deceived me. My two favourite ways of processing my emotions are writing and dancing. On days like today, when I allow myself the time to do both, no matter what else has happened, I know I’m looking after myself properly.

Statistics

One of the things I’ve struggled with throughout my life, has been acknowledging my strengths and successes, and I know I’m part of a string of generations of people trapped this way. In fact, I’d got into the habit of saying self-deprecating things that simply reinforced my belief that, that while I was good at starting things, I wasn’t very good at seeing them through. However, as I exposed myself to different ways of thinking, I learnt to allow my journalling habit to show me what I had in fact achieved. I also learnt that sharing your successes can spur someone else into action, and have a positive impact on that person’s life. I am deeply inspired by different people in my life, and I hope to be an inspiration to others, as well.

So, here are some statistics I’m proud of:
1.       Today is Day 101 of healthy eating. (And I’ve lost 11,1kg so far, simply through making better choices.)
2.       Today is Day 1085 of my dancing journey. While I haven’t danced every day, and have had some long gaps, I’ve never given up.  Dancing is part of me now.
3.       Today is Day 171 of writing Daily Pages (learnt from the book, The Artist’s Way, by Julia Cameron)
4.       Music stats:
-          Started playing guitar 40 yrs ago (1978)
-          First big public performance of my originals, 20 yrs ago (1998 – one set at the V&A Jazzathon)
-          Formed duo with Keith Tabisher 15 years ago (2003)
-          Formed duo with Wayne Bosch 9 years ago (2009)
-          First studio recording of originals, 21 years ago (1997, The London Connection)
-          First original song on internet, 7 years ago (2011, I’m So Happy Today - soundcloud)
-          First original video on internet, 3 years ago (2015, In the Shade of Table Mountain - youtube)
-          Number of original concerts so far (since 2005): 15
-          Duration of current solo restaurant gig: 3 years and 3 months

The point is, we sometimes think we’re not good at sticking with things, but when we actually take the time to reflect and write things down, we might be surprised at what we’ve actually stuck with, and - more importantly - what it reveals about why we’re prepared to give each new day the benefit of the doubt.  

                              Breathtaking sunset view from the office, one day this month. 

Friday 6 April 2018

Sekunjalo Delft Big Band - A personal reflection


Just over two years ago, I left a permanent lecturing post, to take up my new position as Project Coordinator of The Delft Big Band. My role also included working on other projects supported by Survé Philanthropies, like World’s Children’s Prize and Sekunjalo Edujazz.

It took me a while to get to know all the band members’ names, let alone what instrument each one played. Now, not only can I rattle off each one’s name and surname, but I also know the difference between an alto and a tenor saxophone! Yay! 😊 When I started this job, I didn’t even know that, in a big band chart, each voice (1st alto sax, 2nd alto sax, etc.) played a different part – that’s how ignorant I was about big band matters! 

In the latter half of 2016, the band went through a difficult time, as simmering conflict had come to the fore. The board hired a conflict resolution facilitator, but the process did not yield the healing that was envisaged, as the founder (and most of the board) resigned. An awful period followed, with a strong possibility of the project folding.  The single factor that kept it alive was a decision by the band members to remain in the project, and to continue playing music together. One member had resigned during the conflict, and there were a few gaps, as the band had never had a full, permanent line-up. Sekunjalo, which had supported the band from its early years, became the primary funder, and the band was renamed the Sekunjalo Delft Big Band. Today, they can proudly take to the stage as a full, 18-piece band of permanent members. 

                     
                             Sekunjalo Delft Big Band at Jazz on the Lawn, 21/03/18

Many changes have occurred, since the band’s new era began, all in line with the developmental goals of the project. Most of the band members teach at the project’s music academy (held on Saturday mornings, in Delft), and there are more leadership positions, where band members can grow and learn. In general, the project has become a lot more beneficiary-focussed, there is much better communication all-round, and the band members have experienced a shift in the ethos of the NPC. Regular meetings and workshops are held, and decisions are made in consultation with the band members. The split of gig fees is transparent, and the gig earning structure completely flattened – everyone is a star, so you all earn the same fee. If we hire a professional, to stand in as a dep, he/she earns what the members earn. As I said, the ethos has shifted.

If I start talking about the band, I can’t stop, so I’ll be very honest – it is impossible for me to be aloof about the band members. I am getting to know them better, as time goes by, and they’re getting to know me. I know how bad they feel when gigs are scarce and I’ve seen them shine like diamonds when their gig schedule is busy. Like two weeks ago, when they had three big gigs in one week, including the Cape Town International Jazz Festival.

               The band at the 2018 Cape Town International Jazz Festival

Behind the scenes we were sorting out their new suits, so that they could step onstage at an international jazz festival, looking and feeling cool! I watched them fit their jackets, tease each other, complain about sleeve lengths and waist sizes, argue about what size fitted whom best, until they were eventually all sorted, and we left the factory smiling. I watched them with pride, that day, as an unforeseen thing had cropped up, and they’d quickly huddled, conferred, and presented me with a solution. I tried hard not to beam too much.

On Tuesday (two days ago), I left work, went to buy things for the academy, and drove to Delft to drop them at a band member’s house. On the way home, I stopped somewhere else, on another band errand. It was getting late, I was tired and hungry, so I headed home for a restful evening.

Just before 7:30pm, I got a call from a shocked and angry band manager, telling me they’d just entered the band room and discovered that the place had been broken into, and all the equipment stolen! My heart broke into a million pieces. I had to force myself not to say, “’I’m on my way.” I was exhausted, and I needed to rest. I ended up spending most of the evening on the phone with different band members, getting updates and offering advice. They had to abandon band practice - the sound equipment had been stolen, as had the keyboard, two amplifiers, a mic & mic stand, the music stands, half the drum kit and drum hardware of a few kits. The upright piano had been vandalised, the fridge had been damaged, and the place was in disarray. The robbers had got in by breaking through the brick wall at a spot that was not visible by the security cameras.

I called the chairperson of the board, then let the rest of the board know. The chair and I agreed the media should be alerted. I sent an email late that night, and the next day, a journalist called me. Her article appeared in the Cape Argus this morning, and arising from it, we managed to have three radio interviews so far, with another one happening tomorrow morning. Five minutes after one of the interviews, a member of the public called me to donate an amplifier. I fetched it tonight.


Yesterday, while I was at the band room with the band manager and one of the academy coordinators, we talked about the things we urgently needed to resolve, and one of them was securing a rehearsal space with sound equipment. I contacted Camillo Lombard (jazz maestro and Principal of Cape Music Institute), who immediately offered rehearsal space at his school. We felt a lot better after Camillo’s warm response.  It was a real glimmer of hope.

I observed the two band members closely, and felt so sad for them! I remembered that they hadn’t seen the jazz festival footage yet, so I took out my laptop, and we watched a bit of it. Immediately, they brightened up, as they watched with delight. One of them said, “’Now I understand why you said we must all watch it together!”’ And that’s what we plan to do, as soon as possible. We need to get together, laugh together, and heal together. The material things can be sorted out, in time, but the feeling of being violated, when we’re not exactly rolling in money, and when things were just starting to feel great, needs to be assuaged.

                                  A light moment before the soundcheck at the jazz festival 

I have had a tension headache since Tuesday night. It’s right down my back, in fact. I’ve been forgetting things, and been easily distracted. I’ve had that feeling of having a big cry inside that wants to come out. There’s been a lot to deal with, and all I want to do is make it right, make the pain go away – for the band. As much as I believe it will all eventually be fine, I am impatient for it to happen. I’m angry as hell that this has happened to what I affectionately call “’my favourite band”.

On the 23rd of March, as the band played their last note at the jazz festival, one of our board members exclaimed, “This band is ready to fly!” I want them to fly. They are more than ready. They stuck it out when things were rough, they gave the new board a chance, and they weathered 2017, which we called our Year of Transition. At the beginning of 2018, I noticed a new energy in the band, an excitement about being a full band, about playing together, and about the possibilities that lay ahead. The year started with some nice gigs, morale was high - and then this!

Today, in preparation for a radio interview, I asked some of the band members to send me voice messages of how they were feeling. What struck me was how philosophical they all were, expressing the view that, no matter what had happened, everything would be okay and that great things lay ahead.

I am extremely lucky to be working with such fine young people. I want the best for them, because they deserve the best. I believe that this event is an unexpected turning point in the band’s life, and that nothing will be the same after this. This band is indeed ready to fly!    

             My favourite band (plus a techie) - but where's Nash?! (Must've taken the pic.) 
               Jazz on the Lawn, 21/03/18, at St Joseph's Marist College, in Rondebosch