Dear All,

Mainly, I am writing to let you know that due to unforeseen circumstances, my new work Giuffre Sketches will not be premiered on Sunday, December 5th, at Cornelia Street Cafe. Instead, I will be playing an extended solo set which will include my multi-movement piece …no longer to his father… in–as always with this ever-evolving work–a new incarnation. CCi Serial Underground.

A reminder for those in the Boston area: On Saturday, December 4th, my work Angels Praise Thee will be performed by the Polymnia Choral Society under the direction of Murray Kidd at the First Congregational Church in Melrose. I am truly grateful to Murray for continuing to program this work with various choral groups across New England. Thank you.

In stupidly ridiculous news, it appears that SAS (Scandinavian Airlines) will no longer allow violins or other stringed instruments as carry-on luggage; now they must be checked as baggage and the owner will be charged an extra baggage fee for their priceless Stradivaria to be crushed in the hold…

And finally, a big shout-out to the student newspaper at Five Towns College–The Record–for publishing a full-page interview with me as the ‘new kid in town’ of the faculty.

Thank you all again for your continued support.

With warmest regards,

Demetrius

Performance at Cornelia St. Cafe, April, 2010

Dear Friends,

Please join me for a ‘homecoming’ concert in the city of my youth.

Improvisations for Saxophone
Noted saxophonist/composer Demetrius Spaneas, former MCC music faculty member and Lowell native, will perform solo improvisations ranging in styles from jazz to classical to world music. He also will perform some of his original compositions. Interwoven throughout the performance will be tales of his recent musical travels to Central Asia.
3 p.m. • Sunday, Oct. 17
Federal Building Assembly Room, Lowell Campus

http://www.middlesex.mass.edu/events/WOM/

Playing in Quba, Azerbaijan

Mozartiana Festival, Gdansk, Poland; August 16-23rd, 2010

I love traveling, most especially to new places. Let me just state this fact as clearly as possible. I enjoy trains and airplanes, even in those trying times of attempting to deal with my contact lenses amidst turbulence. A small price to pay, truly, for the opportunity of new experiences. I also don’t tend to get jet-lag, at least not at my destination. After returning home is a different story, but I believe that the adrenalin from upcoming concerts and events somehow balances my equilibrium and internal chronometer so I tend to arrive feeling able and ready for anything…

So, again, I love to travel…

I HATE traveling with instruments. There is nothing more frustrating and stress-inducing as dealing with instruments on airplanes. Almost always I get some difficulty from the airline, either at check-in, the gate, or from stewardesses on the plane itself. Those of you who have read my blogs over the years have experienced first-hand my rants and frustrations on this topic; for that reason, I won’t bother you with past experiences.

I will say, however, that these issues have in fact tempered my performing career in an interesting way: I always now travel with the smallest, most versatile instrument(s), which if we’re talking saxophones is the alto. I enjoy the alto very much, and I’ve learned to express myself on it–found my ‘voice’, so to speak. The alto is versatile: it has a good range that dips half-way into bass clef; I can produce a full range of altissimo and extended techniques with no problem; the horn is easy to control and not fatiguing to play, especially in less-than-kind environments; and, the carrying case is actually the smallest and most compact of all of them. For traveling and for playing in multiple unknown situations, the alto is great. The soprano has numerous issues if it’s the only horn your traveling with, mainly versatility, and the tenor is for the most part too large to bring into the cabin; at least in recent years it has come to this. I won’t even get into traveling with the baritone, but there was a time when I could take even that horn into the cabin with no more than an occasional raised eyebrow…no more…

Now, I know better. I know how far I can push airlines as far as instruments go. Maybe it was the fact that I was in the process of moving back to NYC, maybe it was the impact and craziness of getting a new teaching gig outside the city, maybe it was the excitement of actually playing a Mozart festival in Europe as a saxophonist, or maybe it was the constantly shifting repertory for stated festival and the fact that I wanted to try something different. Anyways, something gave way (albeit slightly) in my common-sense filter and we (the festival and I) agreed on multiple instruments for my concert, which included both the soprano and tenor.

I thought that it would be OK. I could condense everything into two carry-on bags. I have super-protective cases for both the soprano and tenor, just in case they would have to be gate-checked for one of the smaller airplanes within Europe. I also decided to contact the airline to get special permission (which many will do, especially for overseas travel) to have these instruments in the cabin. Really, the tenor case was only slightly larger than the regulation size–like a couple of inches–it should be no problem…

Come to find out, the airline (Continental) would allow only ONE carry-on bag, and not even a ‘personal item’. The plane that the festival booked me on was actually quite small for an overseas flight (one isle), and there was very little room. It was a good thing that I checked ahead of time. The airline told me that I could either check the tenor at check-in (they said that they would not allow a gate-check or grant special handling at the gate, which is a courtesy that I have been given by other airlines) and pay a fee of $50/flight for the second ‘bag’, or buy a seat for it–no other options. They also stated that they were not liable for any damage to musical instruments and that I would be transporting it at my own risk.

(Come to find out, they did in fact give special consideration to some rock musicians traveling on similar flights. Their equipment was taken from them at the gate and gently returned, by hand, when they arrived. I guess guitars have much more impact on the airline brass than saxophones do…).

So…I contact the festival and said that I can’t bring the tenor. I told them not to worry and that the projected pieces for tenor (the program was still in-flux at this point, a day or so before I was to leave) would sound just fine on soprano, which they would.

Well…as it turned out, the festival ‘found’ me a tenor to use. One of the local musicians, a gentleman named Maciej Sikala, was kind enough to lend me his horn for the week–a 1939 Selmer Balanced Action. The horn had a lovely sound, although it seemed like it hadn’t been played in quite sometime; the action and the pads had some issues. Maybe it’s more of a collector’s item for him than a practical performing instrument, I don’t know; regardless, I‘m eternally grateful to him. It was a beautiful horn to play, even though I had to get to know it rather quickly–although they are both Selmer horns, a vintage Balanced Action is a VERY different beast from a Super Action 80 (II) built over 45 years later–I can safely say now that after an initial difficulty in communication, by the end of the festival the horn and I became quite good friends…:)

On to the festival!

My initial invitation came from Polish pianist Stanislaw Dejas, a wonderful musician and Mozart specialist whom I met in Baku earlier this summer. The idea of our collaboration was to take a modern, jazzy spin on standard Mozart music. There have been jazz groups at the festival in the past, but they have just used Mozart’s melodies as a basis for improvisation. Our plan was to take the actual music in it’s standard classical configuration, add jazz/rock phrasing and interpretation, and improvise the cadenzas.

Cool, huh?

After my (thankfully) uneventful overnight flight, I ended up in Gdansk (after a change in Copenhagen) on the morning of Monday the 16th. I was picked-up at the airport, checked into the hotel, and then whisked off to an eight-hour rehearsal with Stan. Actually, the first two days of rehearsal were among the most intense I have ever experienced. The issue was that we had to really learn each other’s playing and concepts of interpretation, decide on HOW we were going to approach this program, and then create a full-evening’s concert, all in three days. Of course, add the odd variable of me playing a tenor sax that I didn’t know (and trying quickly to learn how to control it), and one can see the potential for disaster…

…which, by the way, did not happen, thankfully.

After some initial artistic disagreements (which, as you know, is standard; I’m more concerned when artistic disagreements DON‘T happen…), I have to say that Stan and I locked-in beautifully. By the day before the concert, we had streamlined the concert, decided how the interpretation was going to work, and were having great fun playing the repertory.

The festival, which is in its fifth year, began on Wednesday the 18th–ours, which was one of the featured concerts, was on Friday evening. The setting for the festival was a gorgeous park that was transformed to an Enlightenment-era playground. Hundreds of volunteers in period dress strolled along the festival audience, presenting skits and posing for pictures, among transformed and decorated settings. The main stage was outdoors, although there was a beautiful Nordic Baroque cathedral that was also used for some performances, mainly an organ concert and the final performance of the festival, which was the Great Mass in C Minor.

The day of the festival brought an interesting experience. Stan and the some of the festival organizers in the education department asked me if I would like to play a little that afternoon for a special children’s presentation. I not only did it, but I even dressed-up in period garb. It was fun, Stan and I basically improvised in the style of Mozart to skits happening in front of us (I was playing flute, Stan a synthesized harpsichord). The artistic directors of the festival were in shock that I actually did this. As far as I’m concerned, no one is too important for education, and I told them this. An artist, I believe, has a responsibility to educate. And hey, if putting on a wig and 18th century threads helps me to create a new generation of audience members, so be it.!

Our program, entitled “Saxy Mozart Hear and Now” was now ready to be launched. The evening was cold…real cold…the other evenings had some rain, but the temperature stayed up. Friday night was probably 50 degrees Fahrenheit, maybe…the audience was waiting, not knowing what to expect…we didn’t know what to expect, either…this was an ‘out on a limb’ concept for the festival, so everyone was curious to see what would happen….

We start with the first movement of the Bassoon Concerto, in which Stan plays the opening like a honkey-tonk bar-room piano player…my entrance on soprano ala Sindey Bechet…we swung the eighth-notes, but kept the sixteenth-notes straight. Cadenza: I go a little more ‘out’ in my improvisation, more Coltranesque, a flurry of notes and sound, ending with a slow, growly slur upwards ala “Rhapsodie in Blue”…final chord, and…

…I have to admit here that I expected the classic audience reaction from the “Blues Brothers” movie…which was that after the final chord, the audience just sits and stares, en masse…

…which also, thankfully, didn’t happen.

The applause was thunderous! We moved on to the second movement, which I played as a jazz ballad on tenor, mixing Mozart and Gershwin’s “Someone To Watch Over Me” for the cadenza…they loved it, we had them hooked.

Our concert lasted much longer than planed–the audience kept wanting more, even though they were sitting outside in the damp cold. We played ncores, including me doing an extended solo improvisation on soprano, and only stopped because they were closing the park. It was really amazing.

We were told that ours was the most entertaining and successful concert of the festival.

The next two days, I got to really enjoy the Gdansk area. The people there are amongst the kindest and friendliest people I have met anywhere. A modern society with Old-World charm. Gdansk is really lovely–it’s amazing to think that the city, which at one point was one of the centers of culture and commerce in Europe, was completely destroyed in 1945 and rebuilt from scratch. The Poles are some amazing people; considering that they are wedged between two traditionally very aggressive powers, they have kept their traditions and autonomy and have retained their elegance as a people.

All in all, this was an amazing experience. I got to work and become friends with an amazing pianist, and I got to experience a beautiful culture and people. And…I ate really well! You can’t ask for more than that.

Stan and I will be continuing and expanding our “Saxy Mozart” concept. We have had interest to perform again both in Poland and at other international festivals. Who knows, next time, I may even wear the wig…

…although I think that next time, I’ll just bring the alto…

Thanks for reading,
Demetrius

Festival Poster

Dig the threads?

Me and Stan

On stage

On stage

Festival grounds

Nordic Baroque Church

Main Street, Sopot

Old City Gdansk Harbor

Old City Gdansk

A Change of Scenery

After two great years of working with department head and composer (and friend) Anthony De Ritis at the Northeastern University Department of Music in Boston, I am pleased to announce that I will be moving southwards and taking a position as professor of jazz studies at Five Towns College on Long Island.

This is a great situation for me since I was relocating back to New York City anyways. Although I was originally planning on commuting to Boston a couple of days a week to continue teaching at Northeastern, Suffolk University, and at the New England Conservatory Preparatory and CE Schools, this offer given to me by Five Towns College was too good to turn down. And needless to say, the commute is much, much shorter…

In my new position, I will teach performance studies (clarinet and saxophone), graduate courses and seminars in jazz composition and arranging, and I will be directing College’s jazz orchestras/ensembles. Five Towns College’s music program focuses exclusively on jazz and commercial music, and it is home to the John Lennon Center for Music and Technology–how cool is that?

Onwards and upwards!

Demetrius

An Affirmation

There are periods in one’s life when uncertainty and doubt about one’s paths and actions seem to take center stage of everything one does. You may work towards a goal–in career, in life–and wonder whether all of your dedication and work has been for nothing.

But, when one receives an answer, a positive answer, to some of those questions, one can not but be filled with not only joy, but with relief.

Let me tell you a story.

In 2007, I was invited to be a guest composer and performer at the Omnibus Composers Laboratory in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. This was my first (of many since) journeys to Central Asia. I didn’t know what to expect. Living in Russia at the time and speaking to Russians about their former Soviet comrades, I heard nothing but arrogance and dismissal, “why would you want to go there?”, they asked, “there is nothing there but uneducated masses and dust!”

How wrong they were.

I was a guest of the Omnibus Ensemble–the only contemporary music ensemble in all Central Asia–and the Ilkhom Theater, which was the only venue for free speech (supported, and protected, heavily by Western powers, mind you). Both were fantastic, professional, and top-notch.

The Theater’s founder, an American named Mark Weill, had just been murdered days before my arrival. The word on the street was that it was a ‘government job’, trying to force the Theater’s closure, thereby ending any venue for free speech. One has to realize that Uzbekistan is considered one of the most, if not the most, oppressive country in the world. If you have read the post on my visit there in February 2009, you would’ve gotten a glimpse into some of the extents this government will go to keep control.

But that isn’t this story.

This story is about a wonderfully talented young composer, Lily Ugay.

Lily was one of the composers–and at 17, by far the youngest–in attendance at the Omnibus Composers Laboratory. She was given by the Laboratory’s director a very honorable–and frightening–distinction for a young composer: she had to write a piece for me to premier.

You have to understand the situation here. This is a young female composer in a male-dominated Islamic society in a horribly oppressive regime that has to not only write a new piece for an internationally known American soloist, but to also have it torn apart in master class after master class by her peers, her teachers, and yes, by me…on top of that, her father had just passed away.

Well, guess what? She did just fine.

So much so in fact that I really wanted to help her. Her career choices were, needless to say, limited in Uzbekistan. In these countries, they are in a vacuum: they have so little interaction with the outside world. Their writing and playing levels, although decent and even excellent for the region, were generations behind the standards in the West…she eventually got this, and through our interaction and my continued mentoring (via email, mostly) she became determined to study in the West.

So…I connected her with my friends and colleagues here in the US, including my former teacher Chinary Ung at UCSD. Scholarship money is very hard to come by for composers in undergraduate school, and money is practically impossible to find for an international student–grad school is different, but undergrad…very unlikely. Chinary and the composition faculties at Oberlin, New England Conservatory (my alma mater), Curtis, and the Manhattan School of Music were all very impressed, but money couldn’t be found.

She did, however, get many invitations to come as a grad student. Well, that’s all fine and dandy, but what happens in the four years between? She decided to stay in Uzbekistan and attend the State Conservatory, even though she had been taking courses there for years–it was free.

But she was determined to keep trying–she continued to study both composition and piano beyond expectations, and even became the pianist for the Omnibus Ensemble–which leads me to today.

I received an email from Lily on my Blackberry this morning. She just received notice that she was given a Woodruff Award (full scholarship plus stipend) to study piano at Columbus State University in Georgia (ours, not the one in the Caucuses) to study with a Van Cliburn winning Russian pianist. She was coming to the U.S., and thanked me for making her believe that everything was possible.

My reaction was a bit surprising…I was standing in the middle of Starbucks, weeping, and muttering “I saved one, I saved one…”

But I didn’t, really. Once the hysteria subsided–I believe much to the pleasure of my fellow Starbucks customers–and I started breathing somewhat normally again, I changed my thoughts. No, I didn’t save her; she saved herself, by herself, with her own power and determination. I merely opened her to the possibilities, but that is more than enough for my affirmation.

Is this what a proud parent fells like? Considering the fact that my lineage will most likely be carried on–Platonically, mind you–through my house plants, I will probably never find out. But, it’s more like the warmth you feel when you know that someone who had no choices, now has a future of their own creation. Moving from the worst possible situation to the country that is ripe with endless possibilities. She saved herself…

…I’m still weeping as I write this; mostly uncontrollably…

Thank you,
Demetrius

Me and Lily, 2007

Azerbaijan

To continue my latest travel adventure:

So, I leave Dushanbe on May 14 on one of the most round-about flight-paths anyone is bound to embark on. Dushanbe to Baku is not very far; there is only one country (Turkmenistan) and the Caspian Sea between them (just about 1000 miles). One would think that there would be direct flights between capitol cities in the region…nope…not unlike when I traveled from Sofia (Bulgaria) to Belgrade (Serbia), when I had to go through Milan (and I calculated later that I could’ve taken the train directly in less time), the trek from Dushanbe to Baku took me basically in the shape of a giant cursive ‘e’ across Eurasia. Dushanbe to Riga to Moscow to Baku…four times the distance…in one day, mind you…

Needless to say, I was tired when I arrived in Baku…more tiring was passport control–actually, let me take a step or two back here. I knew, yes knew, that I was going to have issues with both luggage and visa/passport control in each stop…and I was right! Leaving Dushanbe, I was informed that there was a luggage fee for checked baggage (neither I nor the U.S. Embassy in Baku knew this when the tickets were purchased, so I had to go out of line to pay at a different window; luckily, they took dollars; when I did this leaving Baku, they made me exchange dollars back to Azeri manat, and go through security all over again), and proceeded to my gate–oh, I also have to say that luckily, LUCKILY, I hired a specialist through the Embassy to expedite me through passport and security in Dushanbe, otherwise I never would’ve have made my plane since I had to battle hundreds of angry migrant workers…

Riga: “Where are you going?”; “Moscow”; “Moscow? Where is your Russian visa?” “I’m transferring in Moscow to go to Baku”; “You need a Russian visa! This is a big problem!”; “No, I don’t…I am going through the International terminal, so I don‘t step on Russian soil…there is no problem”; “Are you sure?” “Yes. There is no problem”; “Where is your Azerbaijan visa?”; I don’t have one yet, I’ll get it at the Baku Airport”; “You need an Azeri visa! This is a big problem!”; “No, I can get one at the airport, this is how it works for U.S. and most European countries’ citizens”; “Are you sure?” “Yes. There is no problem.”; “You’re sure about all of this?”; “Yes…if they deport me back here, I come right to you and apologize”…then through security again because they don’t trust you coming from Central Asia…

Moscow: “Where are you going?”; “Baku”; “Baku? Where is your Azeri visa? This is a big problem!” (you see where this is going, yes?)…actually, at this point, I showed a copy of my invitation from the US Embassy in Baku (which they took; luckily, I made like 12 copies because of this probability). And it being Russia, you have to go though security a couple more times, because they believe that they do a much better job than Riga or any other country in the West.

Baku: In the airport, you see a sign that says “Do Not Purchase Visa Until You Go To Passport Control”. Long line at Passport Control. At Passport control, they told me that I needed to purchase a visa…no kidding…go back to that line, pay for the visa in American dollars, and wait for them to write it out…by hand! Then…back in line for Passport Control, again…and they stamp my passport on the very last page, where no stamps or visas are supposed to go…almost, but not quite, a problem when I left.

The main question I got from security when leaving the airport was “where are you from?”; “The United States”; “No…where are you from?”; “Um…Boston?”; “No…where are your people from?”; “Ah! My family is from Greece”; “Greece. That’s OK. You can go”. It is very important to Azeris to know your ancestry for two reasons: the first, they define you and how they react to you by your ethnicity; secondly, they want to see if there is any chance that you may have blood relations to their enemies…most notably Armenia. More on this later.

Azerbaijan. There are two things that I will remember forever about Azerbaijan. The first, and foremost, is that these are probably, en masse, the kindest, friendliest, most hospitable people I have ever met. Considering that I tend to travel in countries where hospitality is of utmost importance, this is saying a lot. The other thing that I will always remember is that these people are, without any shadow of a doubt, en masse, the worst drivers I have ever had the utmost fear in encountering…Italy, Greece, Russia, China, even other Central Asian countries…none of them compare to the absolute chaos I experienced on the roads of Baku and the regions…people crossing each other at high speeds, stopping randomly on high-speed roads, going the opposite way down highways…absolutely amazing…I was told by my host Brent Maier of the US Embassy that you have to think like a school of fish: go where the vast majority go, and you’ll be fine, even if it goes against every driving instinct that you may have…otherwise, you’ll crash into someone…Also, cars have the right of way; most of the accidents involve pedestrians in the wrong place at the wrong time…

Baku is a modern city, built with oil money. It’s the only former Soviet city that I have seen where all of the ‘Sovietness’ has been completely bled out of it. You really have no idea that this was part of the Soviet Union 20 years ago–high-rise offices and exclusive hotels surround revitalized Old City charm…and it’s more expensive than NYC, if you can imagine. Outside Baku center is a different, well hidden, story, but the main city itself is a Mecca of wealth.

My work in Azerbaijan was completely supported and organized by the U.S. Embassy in Baku, and the Cultural Affairs Officer Brent Maier. There were no ‘major’ (for lack of a better term) performances here, only lecture/performances, master classes, and outreach. I would’ve liked a big performance, but considering all of the logistics involved and also the time of year, this would’ve been very difficult to properly organize…that’s fine, I was happy to do what I did, but they owe me a big one for next time

Although I say this every time after a project like this, I will repeat myself: I am always taken by the absolute joy and happiness these audiences have for performers, most especially those (like me) who made the effort to cross half the Globe to perform for them. They most especially love American music and culture. I was honored with the fact that I was the first American musician to ever travel and perform in the Azerbaijan regions. The audiences and hosts were so incredibly giving and appreciative. It’s funny, I don’t think it mattered what I played, as long as I played. My concerts here, by the way, were very conservative–I basically played jazz standards and popular tunes (by myself) and improvised on them. Let me rephrase this: it was conservative in the fact that I was playing recognizable tunes, at least for an American (Somewhere Over The Rainbow, Amazing Grace, Paper Moon, Sophisticated Lady, etc.; you get the idea) not in the fact that I was playing these by myself and producing melody, harmony, improvisation, rhythm, and percussion, mostly at the same time. I had only the alto sax with me. Alto is the smallest, most flexible instrument that I can travel with, especially for jazz and improvisation concerts. I was going to bring a flute, as well, but decided against it literally the night before I left for Central Asia. I find tenor sax much more flexible for such things, but it can be difficult to travel with (most especially on small, domestic flights in these regions where there is a weight and space issue), and soprano, although small (but a longer case) is not very flexible in this regard, so alto it is.

Note: there will be a blog in the very near future about my instruments and what roles I use them for–this is because I have had numerous questions to this topic from both students and professionals throughout my travels.

Now, as I mentioned, my concerts here centered around outreach and education. Because of this, basically everything I did took place in an educational center or institution; the only event that wasn’t was when I was an invited guest at the Baku Jazz Center and played with the top local jazz musicians (which was fun–it’s basically a big club). I used an interpreter on many occasions, but I also had the pleasure of presenting in schools/centers with strong English language programs.

Because of the nature of what I was doing, I had both the support and distrust of the Azeri Government. This may seem like a contradiction, but it’s not really–allow me to explain: Azerbaijan has had a very interesting history this last century. Once it gained independence from the Ottoman Empire, it created the short-lived Azerbaijan Democratic Republic, which was the first democracy in the Muslim world, and even had universal suffrage a year BEFORE the U.S. did (them 1919, us 1920). It was a very progressive nation, until it was swallowed up by the Soviet Union. Now, after the fall of the Soviet Union, the country made an attempt at going back to its democratic status–again, this was short-lived due to a number of reasons (including conflicts with certain neighbors), and power went to a man named Heydar Aliyev, who was a high-ranking official in the now defunct Soviet Army. To make a long story short, Azerbaijan followed the path of other Central Asian states (although it is technically Europe) and created a presidency that is for all intent and purpose, a king. The difference here is that the Azeri loved (and still love) Aliyev. There are monuments, posters, plaques, streets, statues, buildings, everything…you name it…named after Aliyev. He was in the Azeri’s eyes the man who brought strength and pride back to them. His son (whom, I gather, is but a shade of his father) is now president. To establish his power and legitimacy, he continues to build monuments to his father. Other kings…er…I mean ‘presidents’…of the other countries post their own faces everywhere. Now, a few months back there was a Washington Post article that criticized the current Azeri president’s family for their spending habits; since then, U.S./Azeri relations have been worsening. Now, understand that the Azeris far prefer the U.S. to Russia, but they do try and keep a balance since Georgia is so pro-U.S. and Armenia so pro-Russia. And also remember that their biggest ally, Turkey, is directly to the West, and their other great threat, Iran, is directly to the South. Their other interest for keeping this balance has to do with the Nagorno-Karabakh War, of which I am not going to get into here, except to say that this is an area of armed conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan due to territorial disputes that began in the late 1980’s (and accounts for the Azeri’s interest in backgrounds). The international community, including the U.S. as an important force for diplomacy, has been working towards a peaceful solution. Some of our outreach programs happened near this region.

Because of this strained government relationship, and given the fact that I was an American (supported by the U.S. Embassy) giving presentations in educational institutions–many of which have teachers and programs with pro-democracy tendencies, you can see the potential here for an explosive situation. This is not Uzbekistan. People were not threatened with prison (or worse) for interacting with me and I was not harassed throughout the country–but the Azeri Government did make some things difficult, including canceling my events at certain music schools, in one case 10 minutes before I was to go on.

What bothers me the most is that the students are the ones who suffer. It’s really ridiculous…when the government actually allows an event to happen (which they closely watch), it occurs to them “oh, it’s only music…they are not criticizing us…no threat”. They seem to forget this from event to event and handle every one on a case-by-case basis. I am not here to start a riot and overthrow your presidency; I am here, as a guest of the U.S. Embassy, to promote American culture and music and to show your students that we care about them and that Americans are in fact kind and friendly people. Period.

Anyways, the events that were successful, were very successful. I have been invited back for an extended stay sometime in the near future. There are many music students who are in dire need of advanced instruction, especially in jazz concepts. I will be returning. And I will work with the students who were denied to me this last time–believe me…

After Azerbaijan, I had the honor of once again being a guest of the Latvian Academy of Music, and was supported by the U.S. Embassy in Riga. I gave a master class to the newly organized Jazz Program at the Academy which was organized by the U.S. Embassy–this was a great experience for me to see the level of jazz musicians here in a former Soviet Country. That evening, I gave a solo concert at the Academy–a concert of ‘me’ this time: I played my composition …no longer to his father…, as well as some jazz improvisations. This was organized by friend and colleague at the Academy, Rolands Kronlaks. I also received an invitation to come back there for an extended visit in the near future. This also appeals to me greatly, especially seeing how I can help positively influence the pedagogy of jazz study in Latvia…very, very appealing…

Until next time,
Demetrius

Baku

Playing for students, Agjabedi

Master class, Baku Music Academy

At Baku Jazz Center

The Caucasus Mountains, Quba

With English teachers and students, Quba

Northeastern University Article on my recent concert/outreach tour of Central Asia, entitled An Ambassador with a Cultural Portfolio.

http://www.northeastern.edu/news/stories/2010/06/spaneas.html

Tajikistan II: Outreach and Cultural Diplomacy

I care deeply about creating connections. The artistic aspect of my career is wonderful and very satisfying, but for me, I need to make the art ‘count’. It is one thing to secure one’s immortality through one’s creation: it is the goal of the Humanistic artist (and I am a Humanist) and it is very self-oriented (how could it not be?). It is another thing to establish bridges to not only stimulate dialogue between disparate cultures, but to create paths of communication for the benefit of humanity; to bring the potential of peace through artistic dialogue.

I create these projects either in collaboration with local arts organizations, the US Embassies abroad, or a combination of both. It always works best when there are numerous international partners involved. This way, more people have an interest in the outcome.

The outreach part of my Tajikistan project, which was supported by the US Embassy in Dushanbe, actually started during the Dushanbe Jazz Festival. The idea was to connect with local schools, English language programs, American Corners (programs that promote American culture established through the US Embassies), and play concerts in both the main cities and in the regions.

The students are always very, very accepting and thankful for this kind of attention. It is really wonderful to see their excitement and joy at the fact that someone from as far away as the United States cares enough to make the effort to come all of this way and talk to their classroom or play a concert for them. I think that this is something that the US Embassies have been successful at; although, I think it would be far more successful if more attention and funding was allotted to this by the US Government. It’s this type of diplomacy that really matters. You go out, you say hello, you tell them why they matter, and then you prove it to them. This last part is essential–these people have dealt with much lies and corruption in their lifetimes. We have to walk the walk as well as talk the talk. You want friends for the US? Go out and make them. It’s amazing, the power of a handshake…

…and, they love America. Or, at least they love the IDEA of America. I guess that’s where I am at, too. I am not political at all–I support whomever is president and hope to God that he (or eventually, she) doesn’t screw-up horribly, because any mistake is bad for the country–when our government fails, we all fail, because we have to live with the consequences. I never talk about US policy or politics; I do talk about American Idealism, and why it is so important. The idea of Individuality and personal freedom is of most importance, and this is what I focus on.

That, and of course, the music. The music is the means, the way to communicate. This is first and foremost.

I also talk about my heritage. I’m Greek-American; I discuss the importance of my heritage and how it has shaped me as an individual. This is very important in countries that have ethnic tensions. I talk about how everyone from the US is from somewhere else, that our heritage and ancestral culture influences us, but our ‘Americanism’ defines us.

The lion’s share of the outreach took place in the regions. The people throughout the country were just wonderful. Very kind, very hospitable. This is a theme that I have touched upon before: hospitality in Oriental cultures. Now, when I say ‘Oriental’, or ‘The Orient’, I am referring to the area that encompasses the Eastern Mediterranean (yes, Greece too) through the Middle East, Persia, India, through Central Asia. These cultures are connected in numerous ways. One main way is that they all have a tradition of wonderful hospitality. It’s important; it speaks to, and of, the soul of the people.

So…after Dushanbe, our first stop was the town of Khurog, way up in the Pamirs Mountains. Now, the Pamirs are one of the highest and grandest of the world’s mountain ranges. Travel is difficult–this is a grand understatement. Most especially, travel is difficult in a country that is 95% mountains, with no real working infrastructure to create and maintain safe methods of transportation…

So…we were booked to fly out of Dushanbe: first on a plane, then a helicopter. Both days’ flights were cancelled. The issue is that the flight path goes through a mountain corridor–meaning that you are surrounded by mountains. Any sort of variable weather condition–even clouds–cause the flights to be cancelled due to safety reasons: they have to be able to see the mountains. The helicopter is a modern European machine that is operated by an NGO that brings supplies to different regions everyday–if they have space, they take people for free. It’s nice, modern, clean, and relatively (VERY relatively) safe…the plane is not…not any of these things…but more on that later.

So…we (me and the Embassy delegation, lead by McKenzie Millanowski, the Cultural Affairs Officer) pilled into two US Embassy vehicles and unto the hazardous mountain trails. Now, I have to tell you about my ‘Sweet Ride‘. I was in an armored vehicle–it looked like an SUV, but it was really a posh tank. I felt pretty safe in it (well, other then on the treacherous roads…), but I also felt very distant from the people and villages I saw. The windows don’t open. I felt it was a little excessive, but I was happy for the fact that it could muscle through the washed-out and collapsed roads.

Tajikistan has to be the most beautiful country I have ever seen. The valleys, the mountains, the rivers…breathtaking. It was also the most disturbing road trip I have ever been on. The roads (if we can call them that) were practically non-existent. Mostly, they seemed to be overrun paths, many of which were full of unstable rocks or washed-out. The trip to Khurog was two days on of ‘white-knuckle’ travel. The paths went well up into the mountains–the roads became 7-foot wide mud paths winding up and down the mountain (going two ways, mind you; truck–in some cases–coming from the other direction) with no barrier between you and a thousands of feet drop–the higher we went, the more snow and less road. It got the point where you would just see another mountain in the distance and your stomach would drop when you realize you have to go over that one next…

…my only thought was that I was where Heaven and Hell met, and I wasn’t sure of which side I was on…

The first night, we stayed in Davos. This is important purely for the fact that Davos is directly across the Ponj River from Afghanistan. Coming around the bend and seeing that…it was awesome…we actually spent the entire next day of travel going along the Ponj River and the border. Tajikistan is to Afghanistan as New York City is to Tajikistan…there was nothing there…shacks, mud homes, no roads, nothing mechanical…

You have to wonder why the Soviet Union wanted to go into Afghanistan…I mean, the Ponj is practically impossible to cross, and even then, you come up against a wall of mountains. There’s no way to get there–plus, it’s an amazing natural barrier. Why go, there’s nothing there: no resources, industry, agriculture, nothing…bringing armored tanks and artillery through Tajikistan was bad enough. In fact, between that failed attempt and the Tajik Civil War, the landscape is littered with broken Soviet war equipment–most of it is being used now for living quarters…

But I digress…

Khurog is part of the Pamirs. The Pamiri are not ethnic Tajiks, and they speak a different language. Actually, every village has its own dialogue, and people from different villages can’t really communicate–during the Soviet times, Russian was the connecting language, but no one learns it really anymore. Legend has it that the Pamiri are descendants from Alexander the Great’s army. This area was the northeastern extent of the Hellenic world. The Pamiris are fair skinned and many are redheaded and have blue or green eyes–very European looking. In fact, the few times I heard Pamiri being spoken, I did a double-take…I thought it was Greek…wild, huh?

The most powerful experience on this trip was the day after we arrived in Khurog and traveled to Murghab. Murghab is a small town that is practically walking distance from Afghanistan, Kyrgyzstan, and China. The town is a mix of cultures, and mainly populated by ethnic Kyrgyz. It is very poor, and in the bazaar, many people both worked and lived in shipping containers. Electricity and running water was at a minimum, and understand that this town is over 12,000 feet up. The air is thin and very, very cold.

We received a wonderful welcome. Local musicians, dressed in traditional garb, performed for us. It was wonderful–there were a couple dozen performers and probably six or seven groups, both Pamiri and Kyrgyz. In response, I had to play for them…solo saxophone…at 12,000 feet. Now, I spent the hour before the event practicing tai chi and yoga breathing to acclimate the best I could. So, after they finished, I went up, thanked them for sharing their traditional music with me, put on my traditional garb (a Boston Red Sox hat…it’s all I had…), and told them that I will play traditional American music: I played an improv on “Amazing Grace”. To be honest, it went over really nicely–to be completely honest, I thought that I would pass out after about 30 seconds, but I managed to figure out how to play and breathe and lasted for a good 25 minutes.

As an aside, on the ride back to Khurog, we stopped at these healing hot springs (they called it a Sanatorium)–I think I was in the water maybe 10 minutes tops, and man, did that save me…

After our few days in the Pamirs, we (half of us, anyways) were able to secure a flight back to Dushanbe–I really wanted to drive one way and fly the other. I also did not want to deal with another gut-wrenching two-day drive, which I think would’ve been much, much worse because in this direction, I knew what to expect…

So…the plane was…well…interesting. It was old…real old…and small, seats 16. Propellers, not pressurized. The pilot was this big, hefty Russian looking guy with a white moustache…I named him Boris…I could just picture Boris in the cockpit, gnawing on a yak leg, chugging a bottle of vodka, and being perfectly competent for the task at hand. They ended up loading a patient on the plane; his stretcher took up the first six seats, and his head was practically in my lap. I guess they figured that the plane flight was preferable to leaving him to be cared for in Khurog…

This flight path is considered one of the most hazardous in the world–the runway goes right into in the mountains, and then through them. We were able to fly because they could see the tops of the mountains–the later flight was cancelled because the clouds moved in while we were flying…it was amazing though…the mountains were a few dozen feet away, and the plane was struggling to maintain a straight path. All of the stress of the 20-hour car ride was compacted into that one hour flight.

But…we made it.

I wished that I could’ve done more–I always do. I am happy for the people that I connect with, but am always saddened by the numerous people who didn’t benefit from my visit. Bringing music as dialogue does work for large numbers because music can effect people en masse, as well as in an individual, personal way. But, seeing the effect on someone’s face is by far the most satisfying. Just bringing that moment of Joy is worth every hardship I may encounter–and I hope that never changes.

Next blog, Azerbaijan. Coming soon.

Peace,
Demetrius

With students at an English class

With students at an English class 2

Talking at American Corner

On the road to Khurog

On the road to Khurog 2

Me, on the way to Murghab

Murghab bazaar

Murghab musicians

Photo from the flight back to Khurog

JAZZ MUSICIAN VISITS TAJIKISTAN

Dushanbe, May 26, 2010 – The United States Embassy introduced residents in the farthest districts of Tajikistan to the amazing sound of American saxophone musician Demetrius Spaneas. Demetrius travelled throughout Tajikistan for two weeks and played jazz to hundreds of people from different parts of the country, many of whom had never heard this unique American art form. Demetrius also met with local government officials to encourage the formation of more U.S.-Tajik cultural and educational programs. Jazz was something new for the people of the farthest districts of the country. After each performance, the audience asked questions about jazz music, learned about improvisation, and asked Demetrius to perform his favorite songs. In return, local Tajik musicians in Dushanbe, Khorog and Murgab played traditional music for Demetrius.

From May 4–13, Demetrius gave more than ten performances in Khorog, Murgab and Dushanbe, reaching widely varied audiences. He performed at a jazz festival in Dushanbe, at the American Corners in Dushanbe and Kurgan-Teppa, and at the Bactria Cultural Center, and he also talked about and played jazz music for schoolchildren in Dushanbe and Sarband.

Since 1991, The United States Government has worked to strengthen the relationship between the people of the Unites States and Tajikistan The U.S. Embassy’s educational and cultural programs promote cross-cultural understanding through music, art, education and cultural exchange.

I wanted to give a little insight to my musical experiences here thus far, which have been interesting…

I’ve had two days of rehearsals now with the band Mizrob. What I didn’t realize–in fact found out today, before the second rehearsal–was that Mizrob was a creation of the Bactria Cultural Centre to promote Tajiki music–it’s actually a ‘super band’–kind of like ‘Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young’–of superstar Tajik musicians.

The first rehearsal was basically a meet and greet–the band, in various forms, play together–maybe not all at the same time, but here we had 2 multi-string players, saxophone (soprano, a shock), bass guitar (which was a major shock…) drums, and percussion. I didn’t expect any modern Western instruments, let alone a soprano saxophone and electric bass. The two things that got me more though were the electronic drum set and the recording studio with top equipment, an Apple computer with Logic–not Garage Band or even Pro Tools–Logic!, and Mackie speakers…those of you who are composers and recording engineers will understand the oddity of such equipment in the poorest of the former Soviet republics, in the middle of Central Asia…it’s like going to a neighborhood go-kart race, and some kid shows up with a Formula 1 racer…

Anyways, come to find out that the leader of Mizrob actually writes for films and does a great deal of ‘modernized’ traditional music, actually adding more pop/rock elements like distorted guitars that are contrasting traditional instruments. It’s interesting…I’ve noticed this kind of thing in a lot of Eastern countries: taking their traditional styles and making them more appealing by adding pop/dance/film-score type elements. The results in general have been, oh, less-than-successful in my opinion…I haven’t really heard the work that the Tajik musicians are doing save one song that we are doing together, which I’ll get to.

So…the first rehearsal was really a run through/clean up of their piece, which I’m playing on, and my piece which, let’s be honest, they hadn’t looked at yet.

Their piece falls into this Tajik/pop style…guitar riffs in an almost classic rock mode, with soprano sax playing the more traditional melody more, um, traditionally. The riffs are a good hook–the tune, albeit simple and really meant to appeal to an audience, works. There’s not much to it since it takes basic elements from each style, but it works, and the audience will leave singing it–I am adding a voice to the melody (playing alto sax), and taking an improvised solo in, well, more of my style, which if you’ve heard me live, sounds something like the love-child of Grover Washington Jr. and Eric Dolphy…I think I frightened them just a little…

Anyways, my piece was difficult for them. I was right to have rewritten everything before I sent it…they don’t really read music…or at least very little, and the one’s who can didn’t bother to look at it. So, I basically am teaching them the piece orally, which is also super fun because my interpreter doesn’t know musical terms. My Russian amazingly has come back better than expected, but I have come to find out that although most people here speak some Russian because it was part of the USSR, they don’t really speak it well…they don’t really speak proper Tajik, which is a Persian language, well either, from what I have been told. This is a challenge.

The hardest part has been with explaining a Samba rhythm…I actually thought that this would be easy, and explaining the chordal structure would be hard–wrong again–the leader of Mizrob was able to understand (mostly) my chordal structure and explain it (he even got the C+7 and the Bsus4, which are way out of any traditional music style), but the Samba rhythm…the drummer kept trying to make it rock–I’ve learned that people here play two different styles, Tajik and rock…jazz is out of the loop, and Brazillian Samba, forget it! By the end of today, I got him doing something close…I don’t know how he got there, but he started playing something akin to a Calypso…I was like ‘Great! Fine! Close enough! Do that!’.

The other issue has been trying to get these guys to go, well, a little nuts with their playing…their playing, even in the styles they know, are very controlled and exacting…granted, traditional music tends to be this way: very conservative. My piece is a stretch for them because there is a lot of group improvisation in it, which they are not used to, and my Russian isn’t good enough to explain–and I use the proper terminology here–’going ape-s#!t’, which is what I want at the end of the piece.

We have another rehearsal tomorrow, and one last one before the show–it should be OK.

I did meet some Kyrgyz jazz musicians today–these guys speak English, know their jazz history, and a couple of them have been to NYC (the bass player actually studied with Ron Carter). There is also an open jam session tomorrow evening with all of the musicians in the festival, which should be an experience…

…I hope I don’t scare them…I have to find the Russian phrase for ‘going ape-s#!t’…

More soon!

And remember, it’s not too late to lend your support!