Intery Mintery Comes to Greece

Today is Halloween. One feature of holidays is the opportunity to recall where you were on this day in other years of your life. A great conversation starter—“What was your most memorable ____________? (insert holiday of choice or birthday).”

 

I’ve had memorable Halloweens at Antioch College (full confession—one of the most intense of the eight LSD trips I took back then), in the mountains of North Carolina at a Quaker Boarding School, in my first celebration at The San Francisco School where we had a costume parade and contest. My wife worked so hard sewing a costume and I woke up that morning, put on my overalls, went to the horse stables in the park to gather some hay and stuff it in my overalls, grabbed an old hat and that thrown-together scarecrow costume won first prize!!! My wife was not happy. :-)

 

Halloween became a favorite at the school as I created a unique Intery Mintery ritual performance with all 100 elementary students somewhere around 1984 and it continued unbroken until my last one in 2019— and still continues unbroken today with colleagues James and Sofia. (The whole performance was captured on film and viewable at www.thesecretsongfilm.com). After the performance, the Middle School hosted various booths and a haunted house and we ended with me telling a scary story back in the music room. And then ending that with the classic Skin and Bones song when I make the whole room jump with a BOO!!! erupting in an unpredictable place in the song.  My favorite day in the whole world!!! 

And then made more fabulous between 2013-2019 when James, Sofia and I took our Interns from around the world (Italy, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Spain, Finland, Czech Republic, Turkey, Iran, Philippines, China, Thailand, Australia, New Zealand, Colombia, Brazil  and various US states) to Belvedere Street for one of the most spectacular Halloween celebrations you can find anywhere. 

 

And so on this Halloween, I awaken in Athens, Greece, also the site of a memorable Thanksgiving my wife and I spent here in 1978 at the beginning of our trip around the world. Our Thanksgiving dinner was moussaka, mashed potatoes and Greek salad and that night, we went to the airport to fly to India via Cairo. A most memorable time indeed!

 

So with a morning free, I hope to walk to the Acropolis and then in today’s class, re-create a version of Intery Mintery to share as a model of an integrated performance, with a chant, song sung in canon, percussion instrument sound effects, Orff instrument ensemble accompaniment, alto and soprano recorders, creative movement and drama. 

 

The day Intery Mintery came to Greece. That should be memorable!

  

Loverly.

A 6:00 am rising in Istanbul, a long hour plus ride to the airport, a long 45-minute wait for the ticket counter to open, another 45 minutes in the plane waiting for it to get moving. The usual trudge of travel. Then a 90-minute flight to Athens and off the plane to Passport Control to a room filled with perhaps a thousand people. Moving at a glacial pace. With my ride waiting for me in the cell phone lot. I told her I hoped she had a good book and then remembered that I had one and took out my David Copperfield. Inched long a few feet for every page while David reviewed his years at high school and the two women he fell helplessly in love with before anyone had ever coined the phrase “puppy love.” Then suddenly, the line was moving fast and in some grand labyrinth dance, we snaked around some 25 turning paths in a row before slowing down again for the final laps to the people in the passport booths. When I got within 15 people, the end of the labyrinth in site, I was rewarded with Milt Jackson playing vibes on Autumn Leaves on some speaker somewhere. That was a surprise! 

 

One hour since deplaning, I finally emerged into baggage claim, got my bag that beat me there and had been patiently looping around waiting for me and was finally released into the fresh air of a sunny Greek day, picked up 5-minutes later by my new host, Maria. 

 

Unlike most places I go these days, I haven’t taught in Greece for quite a while, only one Greek person studied with us in the Levels Course in California and one more in the Salzburg Special Course over the last three decades. There are a few I know from the Salzburg summer courses, but only a handful. But by the time we drove into Athens proper, Maria and I already felt like old friends. When she dropped me at my hotel, it had been 10 hours since my Istanbul alarm clock!

 

I loved staying at my friends’ Ezo and Sencer’s house—they were great hosts and I think I was a decent guest. But there’s something about the solitude of hotel rooms that I love and I was so happy settling in for the next five nights. The pleasure of unpacking my suitcase and hanging my clothes (they actually had enough hangars!), charging all my devices, arranging books at the bedside table. The room has a terrace with a big glass door that I can open and close (great for controlling temperature). Great reading lights by the bed, something I often miss in the guest bedrooms I stay in. Lighting matters.

 

Once I got settled, I took off into the neighborhood to see about dinner possibilities and found a store with many pre-made meals. Got a Greek salad for a mere 5 Euros and nice to spend actual money again and have the independence to both shop and pay for things myself. Made a slight mistake by not noticing clearly enough the little turns I had made walking to this plaza and returning back, went down a couple of the wrong spokes. I didn’t quite remember the name of the hotel, had left my phone in the room to charge so even if I did remember the name, couldn’t use the GPS. So my old reliable instinct to ask for help from people did it's work and the two people I asked figured out that they could upload from the QR code on my hotel room key and find both the name and location— and lucky for me, they could! And did!

 

Made it back, enjoyed the salad on the terrace and settling in for a cozy evening before my next two days of workshops.  While writing this, thought I’d let Youtube serenade me and stumbled on the perfect song for the occasion: Wouldn’t It Be Loverly played by pianist Fred Hersch. 

 

“All I want is a room somewhere
Far away from the cold night air
With one enormous chair
Oh, wouldn't it be loverly?”

 

That’s exactly what I’ve got tonight. And I can testify: It’s loverly. 

Phoenix Rising

Yesterday was Turkey Republic Day, everyone wearing red, flags everywhere, thousands in the streets and huge speakers every few blocks with ear-shattering rock-style Turkish music. Finally I had the good sense to ask about Attaturk, whose photo is everywhere all the time, but even more so on this day. I mistakenly had assumed it was like Mao everywhere in China, a dictator demanding adoration and manufacturing compliance. But in fact, he was the one who freed Turkey from the Sultan’s Reign and in his own style, proclaimed “No Kings!” He created a democracy where the people voted, religion was separated from State and women had equal rights. Like in my own country, the current Turkish President has been trying to return their democracy to the Dark Ages and somewhat succeeded in the last twenty plus years of his reign, conveniently sending his opponents to jail. So it made a day celebrating the birth of Turkish Democracy both more meaningful and bittersweet. 

 

The people I know in Turkey, the people I know in China, the people I know in Iran and the people I know in the United States are all 100% staunch advocates of genuine freedom, justice, truth and beauty. All the good stuff. Just wanting to just get on with their lives without the constant shadow of tyranny. Hoping alongside Langston Hughes that their homeland be a place of kindness, not cruelty: 

 

“Let my land be that great strong land of love

Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme

That any man be crushed by one above.”

Yet these broken small boys in adult bodies try to fill the gaping holes in their soul by trying to crush others. Three countries just refused them—Brazil, Hungary, Turkey. Let's keep going!

 

I write this in the Istanbul Airport, about to wing to Athens, birthplace of Democracy. Maybe significant that I’ll be there next Tuesday when the direction of the next two years is decided by American voters. Another good omen? As was the mural of the Phoenix Rising I saw in Istanbul. May it be so!

 

Mind-Blowing Granola

Yesterday began at the lovely local café with a bowl of “mind-blowing granola” (as described on the menu) and a café cortado. It’s a regular for my host Ezo and her dog Samba. From there, to the preschool named for her and a little ceremony where the 3 and 4-year-olds recited special little poems in honor of the coming national holiday celebrating the Turkish Republic. Where the adult point of view is that they’re learning to be loyal (and perhaps over-obedient and compliant) citizens, my wish was that the adults watch them dance so joyfully to the music the teachers put on and follow them. Recover our childlike innocence and delight covered over by so many layers of being “educated” into a dubious adulthood. 

 

Afterwards, I took a solitary walk along the water’s edge while Ezo took her daughter to a doctor’s appointment and loved the feeling of just wandering alone. Found a lovely park populated by cats, cats, cats (everywhere in Istanbul!) and people sitting on benches enjoying the view and on the way back, passed a man in a parking lot kiosk listening to a recording of Ella Fitzgerald singing Someone to Watch Over Me. I came over, told him Ella’s name and the song’s name and sang along a bit and we were both delighted.

 

Then friends Ilkay and Sibel came to Ezo’s house and we recorded a little music example for my upcoming Podcast. First time I’ve had guests and we had so much fun, including making mistakes and erupting into infectious laughter. Ilkay had arranged one more evening workshop for me to teach parents of kids to help them understand a larger definition of music and I was really excited about it. But worried about rain, 8 out of the 13 cancelled. Understood that they didn’t have any skin in the game and thus, no deep motivation to honor their commitment, but still disappointing. But the bright side was this delightful opportunity to record this little bit of a Podcast. And then go out to a fabulous Turkish restaurant for the full treatment of this marvelous cuisine, including Mr. Never-Been-Drunk (me) drinking some rake in small sips and starting to feel a pleasant buzz. Followed by an evening stroll to a gelato place. 

 

No more work for me here, just a full day to see how Turkey celebrates Republic Day, with great hope in my heart with the recent elections in Brasil, Syria and Hungary. May the U.S., Turkey, Israel and Russia follow suit and throw the bastards out! 

 

Throughout this most wonderful day, I carried the cloud of worry over my daughter Kerala who suffered from a mysterious upper-back pain that had her lying for hours unable to move in great pain. With no one nearby to drive the kids to their various events. But good news this morning. It’s a pinched nerve rather than a herniated disc, she feels better after a trip to the chiropractor, my wife flew up to help drive the kids around and sent me photos of them in their Halloween costumes. And I’m so delighted cool 15-year-old granddaughter Zadie still likes to dress up for Halloween! 

 

With my daughter Talia recovering from her broken foot and Kerala suffering from this, it’s a rough patch for these two most-always-healthy loves of my life. A parent never stops worrying and caring about such things and it was hard to feel so far away. But it feels like the healing forces have gathered and the helpers come around. 

 

May those forces continued to gather, both personally and collectively! Me, I’m off to the café again for another mind-blowing granola breakfast.

Another Day in the Life

The workshops in Koaceli kept the joy flowing forward. 18 more students who I thought were going to be college musicians but turned out to be mostly teachers of young children. On this trip— and every trip where I teach— I’m so grateful that I taught children between 3 and 14 years old. The longevity is a big part of the mastery of my craft, but so is that age range. Particularly the young ones, who taught me how to get the utmost musicality out of the simplest materials. 

 

I had planned to teach five pieces from five continents using five notes, but it was immediately clear that this group needed something simpler, so I immediately back-pedaled to 5- 7-year-old material without sacrificing a jot of musical integrity and it worked. They were so happy playing what they could and let me know it through the usual sincere thank-you’s and requests for a photo together. 

 

The next morning was the Black Sea excursion already described and then another two-hour evening class with 24 nine to twelve-year-olds. I had neglected to tell the translator I had just met that I wouldn’t need him at the beginning and wondered later what he was thinking when I taught the first 40 minutes with all directions given by gestures, music and Harpo Marx-style whistles. When I finally needed to talk, I did and we completed my classic Step Back Baby performance, much to the students’ delight. Then I stretched myself using a Turkish rhyme my host had just taught me to compose elemental music on the Orff instruments and they seemed equally happy with that. 

 

Post-workshop, Sencer and his wife and daughter took me to a restaurant serving delicious Turkish dumplings (manci?). The translator joined us and it turned out he was a preschool music teacher, ventriloquist and owner of three racing horses. An interesting—and joyful—fellow! Sencer read some comments his students had made on a chat and the two that moved me were a mother saying her usually sullen 6^th-grade-pre-teen-daughter couldn’t stop talking about how much fun she had and another boy wrote that if that man ever comes back to teach a class, he (the boy) would cancel all his lessons to be there! 

 

By now it was close to 10 at night and Sencer drove me the hour-long trip back to Istanbul, playing an assortment of music I had never heard including a Balkan clarinetist who played the fasted notes I’ve ever heard in my life. Alongside some of his favorite electric jazz bands. 

 

So ended another “day-in-the-life” and need I say?— happily so. 

The Black Sea

 

I’m now in Koaceli, Turkey, enjoying the grand pleasure of reuniting with my friend Sencer, a fellow Orff teacher I taught in the Special Course in Salzburg. Always a pleasure to re-connect, be it in Salzburg, the Body Music Festival in Ghana or the various trips I’ve taken to Turkey. A fine teacher, an excellent musician and all-around great guy!

 

So with a morning off, he drove me to the Black Sea. Quite an iconic place, connecting Turkey with Bulgaria, Romania, Moldavia, Ukraine, Russia, Georgia. A lot of history there, past and present. Unlike the drive from Istanbul to Koaceli, on highways through industrial areas, this road passed through the countryside.  We passed a gypsy encampment, with a disturbing amount of garbage strewn about, past a maximum-security prison with high wall and barbed wire a’plenty and then came to a charming little town, Karpe, with a restaurant called Karpe Diem.  And there it was—the Black Sea.

 

We parked the car and walked along the edge, feeling the power of its churning and crashing waves. The sky was overcast, the wind blustery, the air with a pleasant Fall chill. A short invigorating walk by the Fall-empty (but Summer-full) beach and then sit down for my first cup (this trip) of Turkish coffee. Sencer re-told the story of how it is made and reminded me of the tradition of leaving some at the bottom to be used for fortune-telling. You put the saucer on top, swirl it around a bit and then turn upside down, putting your wedding ring (optional) on top of the overturned cup. Let it sit five minutes, turn over again and see what the coffee grounds have to say. You interpret your friend’s and they interpret yours. Mine had to do with—no surprise— travel and an ocean and a bridge, so it seemed pretty realistic. 

 

Before that excursion, I had checked in on the Valkries game and —again no surprise—was thrilled that they won! Also peeked in on the Brazilian election and not sure I got it all right, but it seems like the good guy won. For this semi-superstitious guy, these were good omens. Liberal California team beating conservative Georgia team, the Brazilian’s voting for justice over fascism. Cautious optimism reported in the American news as we near mid-terms. It is well past time for the tide to turn. Here and everywhere. 

 

Including the countries surrounding the Black Sea. May it be so! 

Transparent to Transcendence

 

Okay, I confess. There is immense satisfaction in feeling seen, known, understood and appreciated. When such a gift comes one’s way and someone else finds the words to clearly articulate it, one’s inner hopes and intentions are mirrored back and affirmed. It is a form of encouragement to keep moving in the same direction. It also is a reminder to not be complacent and keep working hard to measure up to the praise bestowed. 

 

Mostly such feedback comes from the buzz in the room when I teach, the laughter, the joy, the thoughtful quiet contemplation and deep listening discussing the matters at hand, the requests for photos with individual or groups of students, the feeling of love in the room. Having just finished working with my fourth group (London, Izmir, Istanbul, Koaceli), I felt it all with each and every group. 

 

In the midst of it all, I received my Korean horoscope from a new friend with whom I’ve been enjoying a profound correspondence, another Orff teacher who feels as I do the deep healing behind and within and around this work. It began with a one-sentence summary and then went into details: 

 

“Doug Goodkin is an earnest visionary who guards the spirit of sharing for the sake of spiritual cultivation in an age of inertia.” 

 

Wow. That’s a lot to unpack. Visionary, protector of generous sharing, spiritual cultivator, resister of complacent inertia— high bars, indeed! Whether I wholly deserve them is a matter for others to decide. Whether I’m worthy of stepping up to them is my challenge and yes, they well express my hopes and intentions. 

 

I was particularly struck by the word “earnest” and its synonyms, “sincere, serious, heartfelt, devout.” For whatever reason, I have stayed faithful to a vision I already began to write about and live when I set off down this path over 50 years ago. I felt resonance with the word “integrity,” something I admire in both others and hope to claim for myself, defined as:

 

Acting with honesty, truthfulness, and a refusal to compromise your values— even when no one is watching or when it is difficult.

 

Those who were with me at school when changes inconsistent with our mission statement were being made from above know that I stood up and spoke out to defend the school’s character, at the cost of suspension and probation. And in a more positive light, I’ve stayed faithful to a vision of Orff Schulwerk in the sense of “integrity’s” second definition:

 

The state of a work, plot, or system remaining whole and untampered with (such as artistic integrity). (From Latin “integer”—whole, undivided).

 

All of this reminded me of a generous summary of my work someone long ago wrote after taking my Orff course. (Note the word “integrity.”)

 

“Doug’s work is a long, earnest and continuing struggle to present music of integrity in a way that affirms our collective humanity. “

 

I’ll take it. 

 

And one more confession. I’m aware that it could come across as self-centered to share this praise and perhaps there is a speck of truth in that. But the real deal is to become, as Joseph Campbell said, “transparent to transcendence.” To wholly own the work and vision not as the property of the ego, but in service of all who benefit from the spirit of sharing and spiritual cultivation. 

 

Today I’ll work with children and they always help keep one humble and not over-inflated. No matter how “famous” or accomplished one thinks they are, they don’t care. They’ll look you straight in the eye and say with their behavior, “Okay, let’s see how you’re going to handle this!” 

 

And I love that.