
BMS Interview with Tim Moberly |
I’m a composer, performer, and visual artist. After finishing up my doctoral work in music composition at the University of Miami (Coral Gables, FL) and returning from Europe in 1998, I came back temporarily to my native Bartlesville to recuperate. Who inspires me to greatness? All of the great composers, performers, songwriters, thinkers, and creative people in all the arts whose work I’ve had the opportunity to experience. Favorite song and book? I guess the song that has impacted me the most deeply for the longest period of time is “Grantchester Meadows” by Pink Floyd. My favorite book is probably “Engravings” by William Hogarth. I would say that the most inspiring book I’ve read recently is “Picasso on Art”. When I’m not performing, just about all my activities involve creativity, learning new things, managing Vertebrate Productions, or promoting my work. How did you get started? When? Why? Describe "the moment" you knew you were destined I was brought up in a family where everyone was musical in one way or another. When I was very young, we all used to stand around the piano and sing songs from “The Fireside Book of American Songs” while my mother played piano. My three older sisters took piano lessons, so I heard them practicing while growing up, which I think had a deep and lasting effect on the way I hear music. I was also exposed to traditional hymns at the First Presbyterian Church, and heard what was played on television and the radio. We were lucky to have music class every day in elementary school, too. The first song for which I had a real passion was “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad”. Since my early years were spent surrounded by music, I can’t remember a time I wasn’t singing. It was the second time that the Beatles appeared on the Ed Sullivan show that I was struck with the idea of wanting to be a musician. A few years later, I was given a copy of the first commercial album of synthesized music, “Switched-On Bach”, which astounded me, not just by the tone colors produced by the then-new Moog synthesizer, but by the brilliance and complexity of the music itself. When I was fourteen, I traded my sister a pair of hiking boots for her guitar, an old beat-up folk-size acoustic. It had two stickers prominently displayed on the headstock. One said “MG” (apparently the brand name), and the other said “Steel Reinforced Neck”. It was truly awful. It’s a miracle that I learned anything on it, much less continued to play. I bought a copy of what was probably the first edition of “The Beatles Complete” and began to learn songs. It was actually far from complete, as this was circa “Abbey Road”. It was also far from accurate, as it consisted of simplified piano/vocal arrangements, and many songs were put into keys such as E flat or A flat, keys that don’t lend themselves easily to a beginning guitarist. This same sister would bring albums home from university, so I got to hear the latest Dylan, Byrds, Stones, Who, CCR, CSN, Zappa, and of course Beatles. My cousin had quite a collection of LP’s, so I also heard Hendrix and obscure groups like Aorta. I played trombone in band. I played trombone very badly. However, through this I met Bill Collins. He acquired a guitar around the same time I did, and we started playing together. I don’t know If I’ve had that experience of knowing that I’m destined to be a performing artist. My parents definitely didn’t want me to be one. I’m not sure that I believe in destiny.
I consider every experience that I’ve had in music to be educational in some way, adding to my overall musical sensibility. Here is a somewhat lengthy and nearly interesting story: The only formal training I’ve had on guitar was during my second year as a Fine Arts major at the University of Oklahoma. I took an elective in “Class Guitar” taught by Jim Bogle, an excellent guitarist. It was essentially an introduction to classical guitar style in a class with three or four other guys. Due to my motion disorder, I was a bit intimidated by the situation. One day, however, I was the only one to show up for class. Prof. Bogle spent that period teaching me a jazz song, including the chord progression and an intricate lead to go along with it. The next week, I played it for the rest of the class. It felt good to see the jaws drop. I’ve been a great believer in individual instruction ever since. Aside from that, I’m pretty much self-taught as guitar goes. My real immersion into formal music training began two years later, when I switched my major to music and enrolled at the University of Tulsa. I had been playing both with the band Entourage (with Richard Johnson, David Innis (later of Restless Heart), Ron Cornelius, Terry (not to be confused with Terri) Hendrix, and Doyle Speer), and with the Westeron Wynde Earlye Musicke Consort (with Ken and Lynelle Williams, Phil Lorenz, Russell Bookout, and others), and was hot to soak up as much about music as I could. I had been working at the Bartlesville Public Library, where I happened to pick up a book on music theory. To my great bewilderment, I found that I understood it. So off to TU went I, where I had many excellent teachers, including Anna Norberg for theory, William McKee for music history, and Liz Dodd for voice. After a year at TU I caught a bad case of marriage that lasted six years, so I quit school. Regardless, good things happened during that time. My son Ian was born. I had the experience of going on the road from Texas to Wyoming as bass player for a travelling band, where I got to know and learn much from guitarist Larry Boggs (now of Infinity). I then joined Larry and Doyle as bassist in an acoustic trio, and later rejoined former bandmates and some new ones (Dickie Gagle, David Ray, Don Colopy, Rick Morrow, and Jeff Reynolds) in the Urban Alley Band. I met John Hartford aficionado Robin Wassom, who turned me on to lots of great bluegrass. Once I recovered, I spent a season in Dallas, after which I returned part-time to TU, where I stayed for the next eleven years. I studied composition with William C. Heinrichs, theory, counterpoint and Schenkerian Analysis with Joseph Rivers, and musicology with John Powell. It was during this period that I wrote the notorious “Cows” for voice, violin, and piano, for which I’ve received equal amounts of admiration and flak. Well, maybe more flak. I finally grew weary of taking the slow “scenic route” to my degree, so in order to finish up faster, quit my graphics job, took out student loans, and received two scholarships, one for voice and the other, oddly enough, the “Humanities Scholarship in Religion”. I received the inappropriately-initialled B. M. in composition in the fall of 1991. I should mention that, while driving through Illinois during my high school years, I had heard Steeleye Span’s version of “Two Magicians” on the radio, and have loved English and Irish traditional songs nearly ever since, especially in electrified versions. The entire time I studied music formally, I pursued a private study of English folk song on the sly. It was around this time that I formed the Celtic/Britfolk duo “Mooncoin” with Bill Collins. We performed at Bartlesville Sunfest many times, as well as Tulsa Mayfest, Tulsa Scottish Games, and once headlined Tulsa’s St. Patrick’s Day festival. During a semester off, a commission came from violist Jeff Cowan, for whom “Three Pieces for Viola and Piano” was composed. I stayed on at TU as a teaching assistant in theory and musicology under Heinrichs, Powell, and Roger Price. Being overly ambitious, I decided to write an opera as my Master’s project. The formal project ended up being one orchestral ballet movement from the opera (in the French style), but I did complete the libretto, and had songs from it performed in chamber arrangements. A favorite is the love song “Singing in the Silence”. I received the M. M. in composition in the spring of 1995. The fall of 1995 brought a Graduate School Fellowship from the University of Miami, so it was off to south Florida. There I studied composition with Dennis Kam and Don Wilson (the latter with whom I also studied electronic music), theory with John Van der Slice, media writing with Raul Murciano (formerly of The Miami Sound Machine), and conducting with Thomas Sleeper. I also wrote a paper under the guidance of musicologist Raymond Barr entitled, “English Traditional Song Related to Calendar Custom and Seasonal Celebration”, now archived at the National Centre for English Cultural Tradition at the University of Sheffield, UK. The degree of Doctor of Musical Arts in composition was conferred in the spring of 1998. My doctoral composition was a multimovement song cycle for voice and electronics entitled “Seven Feasts”. After all this, I’m still trying to learn how to play guitar. You have instucted young musicians in the past, are there any students that were Well, of course I love all my students equally. Those who consistently work hard and put in the necessary time are the ones who get the most out of studying with me. This would include Chrystal Cain, Kevin Thompson, Ryan Stanberry, and you may want to keep an eye out for Adam Mitchell. Nathan Dick also studied with me briefly, and has a great deal of natural ability. My adult students are all wonderful, with Nancy Farrell in particular making amazing strides in a relatively short period of time. I’m still teaching private lessons for ages sixteen and up, and would like to expand to small classes (of about four) for beginners or special interests. What advice do you have for aspiring musicians? Be who you are. As musicians, we all go through various periods of imitation, which is how we learn to play our instruments. Eventually, however, we need to move beyond trying to faithfully reproduce what has already been done. Once you have mastered your instrument, run with it - make it say what only you can. Life is too short to spend it trying to be someone else. Play in front of people as much as you can. When those opportunities aren’t available, practice as much as you can. Be disciplined. Don’t worry about trying to make everybody happy with your music. Define your vision. Stick to your guns. You can always change it later, but make sure the motivation is coming from within rather than without. Watch your back. Avoid being one of those people around whom others have to watch their backs. Be open to types of music that don’t immediately appeal to you. You might learn something. Have integrity. People learn quickly whether your word has any value, and whether the way you represent yourself is really what you have to offer. How did "Snooty Jazz" begin? At one point, I began to look more closely at distinctively American forms of music. Returning to Oklahoma, I resumed teaching Harwelden Institute in Tulsa, where the music focus one year was jazz. Not long after, Ken Burns’ series on jazz premiered on PBS, and I spent some time with guitarist Mark Lacy, who interested me in giving jazz guitar a whirl. I figured the best way to learn was to throw myself into a performing situation where I had to play it. Since there wasn’t a situation like that around, I created one. I thought Ann-Janette Webster might be interested, so asked her if she wanted to put a duo together. How would you define your music? That depends on what type of music I’m involved with at the moment. Currently, I’m reviewing Celtic/Britfolk material that I previously performed with Mooncoin and the various forms of Plough Monday (either with my own MIDI arrangements, or with David, Jimmy, and Norman Farrell), with the intention of doing a solo acoustic act. This music is in the style of Martin Carthy, Steeleye Span, The Bothy Band, Richard Thompson, The Albion Band, the Pogues, and others of that tradition. Although I haven’t performed this type of music for a while, I find that it is so deeply ingrained after the years I spent studying and playing it, that it’s difficult to leave it alone. I still love it. I recently had an impromptu gig with Wayne Kahre (of Kilkenny Road) at a party, where there was a terrific response from the people attending. It was great fun and helped to validate my desire to continue playing this type of stuff. My first CD of classical electronic works, entitled “Faux Normal”, has recently been released on Vertebrate Records. It has been likened to “J. S. Bach in electroshock therapy”. Most of it was written in Bartlesville. Each of these sixteen pieces bears my distinctive compositional stamp, but the collection has a particularly strong bloodline tracing back to modal contrapuntal music, Stravinsky, Gentle Giant, Celtic music, rock, tango, and minimalist styles. Really diverse and fun stuff, it has something to stimulate anyone’s aesthetic bone. I’m grateful that the people of Bartlesville have been very supportive of me, and I hope that they will continue by supporting this CD. It’s available online from my website (www.timothymoberly.com) and CD Baby (www.cdbaby.com/moberly), as well as locally at Hastings and in Tulsa at the 71st Street Barnes & Noble. It has a great wrap-around cover by artist Patrick McWhirt, and is full of uplifting and powerful music. Live group improv is something else that I’ve got into doing recently. At TU I had been in an abstract improv group with a number of other composers, and wanted to try the same sort of thing in a rock vein after returning to Bartlesville. I founded the Almost Music Improvisation Ensemble with the idea of being the guitarist in a group of rotating members that makes up music on the spot. Richard, David, Jimmy, and Bob Carroll have joined me on this project at various times. The configuration that I’ve worked with the most and consequently developed the furthest is with Donn McCallister and Storm Harrington. It’s wide open, immediate, and a liberating experience. It would be nice to find a flute player who is interested in this. I still fancy myself something of a singer/songwriter, and put together a (now defunct) group named the Tao Lions to perform my songs a few years back. Musicians at various times have included Mark, David, Bill, Jimmy, and Kenneth P. Wehmeyer. This material was rock, blues, pop, folk-rock, and progressive-rock in character, and included songs such as “The Long Endeavor”, “House of Mystery”, “All Those Pretty Words”, and “Not Too Late”, to name but a few. What inspires you to write? What was your first original song performed by You? What Just about anything can inspire me to write. It can be a musical idea that pops into my head, an interesting turn of phrase that I hear someone say, a compositional technique, the tone color of a particular instrument, hearing impressive music, film, art, a feeling, a person, a memory, the weather, an event, self-righteous indignation, or what have you. One thing that usually gets me going is when I go into a large CD store. After looking around a bit, I start feeling guilty because I know I should be working on my own music. Writing morning pages (as prescribed in the book, “The Artist’s Way”) is a great way to get creativity flowing in a general sense. Aside from various songs written and performed in private for ladies I was attempting to impress, the first song of mine that I performed publicly was either “Into the Masses”, a heavy, diminished-fifth-laden rocker from Entourage days, or “Don’t Let Howard Janssen Blow His Nose on You”, a stupid but charming song not even remotely based on true events. The first song of mine that was recorded was done in a New York studio, where I played all the instruments. Fortunately, the tapes have been lost. The song I’m writing now came about because I wanted to write a another in the English traditional style. It’s based on a true event: a double homicide that happened in Bartlesville several years back. I don’t think of anything I write as being too personal. The way I see it, everything I write, whether a song or an instrumental piece, is in some way about the experience of being alive, and the only experience I have of that is this life. That being said, each of us as a unique individual has the opportunity to create or do something that no one else can. Do you think Bartlesville crowds are open to original music? Where do you want to Part of making original music work for an audience is finding the audience that is likely to be open to what you’re up to, and present it to them in a way that interests them. This sometimes means being selective about your venue. For example, you probably wouldn’t perform Palestrina’s “Pope Marcellus Mass” with a full choir in a bar any sooner than you would perform Alice Cooper’s greatest hits in a church (although either one would be fascinating to watch from a sociological standpoint). I think that there are usually individual audience members who are open to original music, and often large percentages of audience members who are responsive to it. I’ve seen it happen in Bartlesville. I would like to see live music extend beyond the bar scene here in Bartlesville. It’s beginning to happen to some degree now, with more restaurants offering live music, more events that feature live music, OK Mozart events, Skyline House Concerts, and brave new venues like Thomasjohn Miller’s “Music and Conversation”. *Describe your "dream venue" for live music in Bartlesville. Acoustics, crowd, My dream venue for live music would be a clean indoor dining establishment with great food, adequate parking, and clean air, either non-smoking or with a designated smoking section (allergies, you see). It would be the kind of place where adults could go to relax, have a meal and/or a drink, and enjoy performances. It would have a proscenium stage, built-in sound and lighting systems, and be able to handle either a single-act or a variety-act evening, like a cabaret. Kind of like the Ed Sullivan Show, but more intimate and with a more artistic than entertainment bent. What are some of the toughest challenges you\rquote ve faced to this point? My toughest challenge has been an inherited condition. I grew up not knowing what it was, just that my hands and body at times had noticeable tremors. It got worse in stressful situations, which caused anxiety, which caused the tremors to worsen, causing more anxiety, and so on in an ever-intensifying spiral. I tried everything I could think of to overcome it, but to no avail. Next to being a surgeon, being a musician was probably the worst career choice I could have made, but I kept on pursuing it regardless. It wasn’t until my last year of classes in Miami, when I was researching a paper on performance anxiety for a psychology of music class, that I ran across the information that not only was there a name for what I had, but that there was treatment as well. No one had ever bothered to tell me. It’s called “essential tremors” or “familial tremors”, and I’ve been taking medication for it ever since, which helps considerably. All those years I thought there was just something wrong with me, and it was merely a chemical imbalance. It’s not over, though. There’s still a lifetime of baggage to deal with. If you know anyone who has symptoms like these, urge them to talk to their doctor to see if this is what they have. There is help for this condition. Who would you cite as your biggest musical influence, also who has influenced your I could list dozens of important musical and personal infuences, but if I have to narrow it to one, I would have to say the Beatles in both cases. People who didn’t grow up while the Beatles were happening may have difficulty understanding this. It’s not just that the innovations they brought to music and the way we think about music were so astounding and far-reaching, it’s also that they influenced such profound cultural (and, dare I say, consciousness) change for many peple of my generation. How important is creative freedom to you, both as a writer as an artist?\par It is of the utmost importance. Creativity is freedom. What do you feel your greatest reward has been as an artist thus far? My greatest reward has been when a person comes up to me after experiencing something I’ve created and tells me that it has changed their life. I presume that they mean for the better. What were some of the toughest challenges that you faced starting out? Either my looks or my personality. I don’t know which was tougher. What brings you peace? I’ll let you know when I find it. Memorable quotes: “Don’t worry about being modern. It is the one thing that, no matter what you do, you can not avoid.” – Salvador Dali “Follow your bliss.” – Joseph Campbell Performing experiences: I was once the opener for a trained dog act. I was once the opener for my own band, which had re-formed without me. In Pinedale, Wyoming, a local resident came up to me while the band was on break to tell me with great glee that when long-haired musicians came through town, he and his friends took them out and shot them. I was playing a gig with a “classic rock” group I had put together. People were dancing to the songs, so I inserted a song of mine that was of the same style and beat. Some of the people stopped dancing and just stared at me as we played. One person called out, “We can’t dance to that! We’ve never heard it before!”
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