King Shit

For a while now I've been tampering with the idea of scoring. Not scoring chicks. Scoring films. I'll blame it on the combination of my most recent university elective "Music and Film", as well as the Pianomation project. The course has given me a lot of insight as to the purpose of music in films, as well as the multitude of ways and styles the music can affect the viewer.
Its actually come to the point where I might begin to offer my services to film students seeking unique original scores.

Now, I'm not saying I'm King Shit when it comes to making music. I've had no formal training on any of the instruments I know how to play (except the Chinese dizi flute, which I can actually read music for as well). My familiarity with drums, bass, guitars, piano, percussion etc. are all bi-products of years tinkering (I'll call it tinkering for the sake of not saying "rigorous practice"). I will most often pick up an instrument and play until I'm satisfied with something I've done. Does this lack of training hinder me from my ambitions? No. Does the fact that I will probably never willingly seek lessons make me lose sleep? Not at all. You would be interested to hear how many of your beloved musicians have no idea how to read music, such as Billy Joel, Phil Collins and famed composer Danny Elfman. None of them have a clue, and that's fine by them.

Now, I'm not saying I'm King Shit when it comes to making music, but by fuck do I love making it. I'm going to risk sounding like an idiot when I say making music is one incredible experience. Seeing as the options are limitless, it's just you versus your instruments. The number of possibilities for harmonies, arrangements, instrumentations, timbres, placement, rhythm, etc. are sitting there waiting for you. It's seriously amusing, and I wish for you all to experience it one day.
I remember my first experience scoring a film. A friend made a silent spaghetti western in his apartment and asked me to provide an impromptu soundtrack. Using a dictaphone, an acoustic guitar, and a jar full of peppercorns, we crafted a soundtrack in about an hours time. The finished product was as satisfying to me as pulling a perfectly exposed print from a developer tray. There's something about seeing a completed piece that just gives you the willies.
I'm fairly new to this idea, and I'm sure my first few attempts would be the audible depiction of a child's first steps, but it scratches me where I itch.
Who knows for sure though. Like I've said before: I could probably compile a list of more than 30 artistic endeavors that have never transpired due to time and money.

flashes in a wood shop

As I'd hoped, the shoot went fantastically. Even better than I'd hoped.

I arrived to meet the new principle of Beal, Don Macphereson around 2:30 pm today. He was a really nice guy. Him and I chatted until Dave, the head janitor, arrived at the office. At this point, to my surprise, the two gave me a full-access Visitors Pass, as well as the janitors master key which opens every classroom in the school. This was seriously some sort of dream come true.
The shoot was very expedient, and although I would have loved to mull around my teenage classrooms longer, there was work to be done. Off to Mountsfield.

I knew there was no way I'd get the same treatment at Mountsfield. Oh, how wrong I was.

As I walked the halls to the tune of the intramural basketball game down the hall, I was approached by Linda Moffatt, the principle. She asked if I was Andrew Schmidt, to which I happily agreed (do I look like a photographer or something? maybe it was the gators I was wearing on my feet). Instead of lending me the keys, she gave me two personal janitors to escort me throughout the school, opening whichever classroom I wished whenever I needed it. What a trip.

Special thanks goes to principles Don MacPhereson, Linda Moffatt for their patience with me and for their work among their staff on my behalf. Additionally, custiodian staff members Dave, Bob, and Jenna that were so gracious in lending me their time and stories of their own.

Talking about what I saw once in the schools is worth 2,000 words in itself. I'll get to that some day.

ps. Do I look like a janitor in the above picture? That's my favorite photography shirt. Maybe it's because you can't see that it's tucked in. And shit, if being a janitor means having keys to every room in the house, it doesn't sound so bad after all.