Making the Hard Stuff Look Easy, and the Easy Stuff Hard

I saw singer/songwriter guitarist Michael Kelsey play at the Egyptian Theatre in Park City a few weeks ago, and the experience is still resonating with me. We went on a last-minute whim, invited by friends who had extra tickets. Front row tickets, as it turned out! -- Thanks M & K!

If you're not familiar with Michael Kelsey's music -- or should I say, The Michael Kelsey Experience? -- he's a force majeure. With incredibly skillful guitar-playing, percussive popping/slapping/tapping on the guitar, mic, or anything else that might make a cool sound, and strong songwriting and singing, he's a one-man-band of the most expressive kind.

I kept having 'deep thoughts' throughout the performance (so much so, that I had to root around in my purse for a piece of paper to write them down. Which I did. The piece of paper I wrote all over turned out to be a prescription I needed to fill. Crap.)   Kelsey’s playing reminded me of something Janis Ian said in a master class I attended at the Folks Fest Song School in Lyons, CO, years ago. She said, "to captivate your audience, you need to make the hard stuff look easy, and the easy stuff look hard."

I think of this quote a lot when I see performers that are particularly engaging. Where are they straddling the line between ease and showmanship? Which parts are the ones they could do in their sleep? What did they need to practice over and over to appear so flowing and graceful?

Then the wondering:  where is that line for me?  Where am I flash or substance?  Where is it work and where is it instinct?

My thoughts reached back to an article I wrote about compelling stage performances . . . my conclusion was that we become fascinated with a performer when they do something out of our perceived realm of possibility – when they easily do something we don’t secretly believe we could do ourselves with the right amount of time or effort. I am quite sure that Michael Kelsey’s guitar-playing talent is something beyond my “perceived realm of possibility.” (At least for the moment. ☺)

Another revelation from the back-of-the-prescription notes: “Some performers make you want to practice harder. Others make you want to throw away your instrument, because, really. . . what’s the point!?”  Craig saw Prince in concert a few years ago and said it almost made him want to quit playing;  Prince was so insanely talented -- at his non-primary instruments, too, like bass and drums -- that it was almost disheartening, even to someone I see as a magically gifted player like Craig.

After a while, my ego started fighting with my enjoyment, asking me to rank my own skills in relation to Michael’s. “All this percussive action, it’s just a gimmick,” my ego suggested. “The electronic looping and layering, unnecessary and too much going on.”  I gave these two thoughts a wide berth, letting them run their course, and decided that, “Umm, Yeah, NO.”  He’s got skills that I don’t have, gifts I don’t know if I’m even interested in developing.  So, sorry Ego.  You lose this round. There is room up there for everybody, in a wildly fluctuating continuum of talent and skill and innovation and inspiration that moves among all of us who create and experience art.  I’ve had some amazing moments; I hopefully will have more.  Michael can have his too.

In the meantime, I’ll work on making the hard stuff look easy. (Making the easy stuff look hard isn’t too challenging at the moment!)


Five Things I’m Thankful For Today:
1. That Daisy is going back to school on Monday for more Montessori fun 
2. For good workouts that leave me energized and full of endorphins!
3. For nice walks and neighborly drinks
4. For our full bounty from the farmer’s market yesterday
5. For the great visit home over the last few weeks