Acordeón – Jill Domschot

January News

The print of Delivering Hope is now available: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQRNT46R. If you would like a free copy of the ebook, please let me know. I only ask one thing: if you like the book, tell someone. Word of mouth is the best marketing.

I’ve started the sequel, and it’s moving at my normal pace of 1000 words a day. Its official title is Delivering the Goods & the Bads.

The Christmas tree came down on Epiphany Sunday, after I’d written on the front door with blessed chalk: 20+C+M+B+24. Because I’m feeling particularly lazy, here is the screenshot of the snippet I wrote for the weekly bulletin I create at my job:

I continue to make YouTube videos, in which I blather about nonsense. I even developed my own theme song. It’s called El Vuelo de Las Libélulas. I know; surprising, right? I’m trying to get over my awkwardness at playing the accordion on camera.

My dogs are brats. Did I just openly admit that? They are adorable brats. But they give me love, which is hard to find in the world. God loves purely. Nobody else does. Except dogs. I mean, they love you extra if you give them bacon, so maybe that’s not pure, but at least it’s predictably simple. They also openly display their love, not to mention their joy at loving. Humans instead display their misery in love.

Maybe I should stop listening to the song Qué Agonía five times a day. It’s such a good song, though. I will post below.

El Paso

As an aside, the app is giving me writing prompts, as if my problem is a lack of content rather than a lack of time! Today’s prompt is “What is your favorite form of exercise?” The answer is definitely a nature hike, but how often do I take a hike? Almost never. So, the actual answer ends up being “Whatever I can manage in my living room or when my dog drags me on my walk.”

Back to the program: El Paso. I went to El Paso this weekend to see Eden Muñoz live in concert. Eden Muñoz used to be the singer and accordion player for Calibre Cincuenta, but he went out on his own. Calibre Cincuenta was one of my favorite bands. We’ll see what they produce without Eden Muñoz and whether they remain one of my favorite bands. They are in a class of norteño called norteño-banda because they incorporate a sousaphone in the mix. Traditional norteño for a while now has incorporated a saxophone; the sousaphone is a bit of a nice change, in my opinion. Of course, norteño-banda often has the full brass band. Eden Muñoz has gone all out for the full brass.

The concert was amazing. The only drawback was being in the Abraham Chavez concert hall where there is no dance floor; the music is meant for dancing. But still, imagine two accordions, a bajo sexto, a tololoche, a vihuela, a full brass section, and multiple percussion instruments. The music is very complex yet draws a young audience because of the resonant lyrics and the danceable melodies. Also, the music traditions are carried on and reinterpreted by younger musicians.

I’m explaining this because people are generally surprised that I love this music so much, and it shouldn’t be surprising. We have some intriguing musical traditions here, in classic bluegrass or Zydeco, for example, but they don’t quite reach the level of impact that Mexican music achieves. My reaction to Mexican music is at the level of visceral, reaching my heart and soul, so I’ll just leave it at that and not overexplain it.

The theater is in downtown El Paso, and the hotel I reserved was less than a mile away. Because I’m from New Mexico, the state with the highest crime rate in the country, I’m used to hotels being behind gates and a general creepiness when walking around at night. I have been assaulted in Albuquerque while walking at night because I wouldn’t give a crazed drug addict money; my daughter has been mugged; car thefts and property crime are part of the culture here.

Imagine my surprise when I didn’t feel uneasy walking in downtown El Paso at night; this isn’t what I’m used to. I’m not an anxious person. I don’t worry about much of anything. I’m often surprised to hear that women fear for their lives constantly and that this is something men don’t understand about women. At least, this is what I’m told. I can guarantee you that I can’t remember the last time I feared for my life. When I was 14, I almost drowned in a lake. So, more than thirty years ago…? But it’s still good to listen to feelings of unease, which you will get if you visit Albuquerque. Sorry, that’s just the reality. Roswell isn’t much better. It’s smaller; that’s all.

Anyway, I found El Paso refreshing because I wasn’t bothered by crazed drug addicts. Yeah, I’m sure there are plenty there, but I’m guessing the local police must clear them out regularly. Anyway, I’ve always been fascinated by weird places like El Paso. It is a weird city because it’s the pit or hollow of the American Southwest. The landscape is hilly and has mixed architectural elements. Oh, and Juarez backs right up to it. Juarez used to be fun to visit, too, but I haven’t been in years. It started getting a little crazy with the violent crime. Like Albuquerque.

This morning, I walked a few blocks to attend Mass at St. Patrick’s in downtown El Paso. It’s a beautiful church with bad acoustics. I couldn’t hear a word of the homily or readings, but God’s presence will still fill a church during Mass. His presence doesn’t require hearing. The only missals I could find in the pews were in Spanish. Can I read Spanish? Of course. But the Mass I managed to make it to was in English. Ah, well, it took me around five minutes or so to realize I was even reading Spanish. My brain is so accustomed to Spanish by now that I found myself the other day accidentally (mentally) translating English into Spanish instead of the reverse. I wish this was a sign of fluency, but I rather think it’s a sign I’m going out of my mind. It’s been happening for a while now. Going out of my mind, I mean.

I will become a norteño song

Quiero ser un rincon soleado / ~~donde me puede amar a mi amado~~… donde me puede amar mi amado or donde puedo amar a mi amado…

That is the start to a norteño song because, you know, I might as well write them. Scott Adams has an intriguing view of success, claiming that a person doesn’t have to be a genius at one skill to gain success; what’s needed is a stack of middling competency skills. When those skills are combined, voila, there you are: success! I’m laughing a little at my ridiculousness, but it was true for him. For example, he’s neither a great artist nor a comedian, but he’s reasonably insightful, witty, and apt with a pencil.

My middling competency includes a degree in which I studied both English and Spanish poetic forms and even translated Sor Juana’s poetry for my dissertation. I’ve also written a fair number of poems in both languages. I’m brazen that way. Many years ago, for example, I wrote a poem called Oda al acordeón. If I can find it, I’ll post it, even though it’s no doubt quite awful. It was heartfelt, whatever the case.

I can also sort of play the accordion, I can sing on key if not amazingly, and have over two decades of obsession with listening to the tropes in norteño songs. I can do this! On the other hand, writing actual musical notation is probably beyond me, though I do know the tonic notes on my instrument.

Further updates on life: the golden dragonflies are still following me everywhere. They hover outside my office windows for hours. If not for magical thinking, life would be incredibly boring. They are my friends! They come to visit me particularly! Meanwhile, I’m at that desperate point in my book where I’m so close to the end and not quite there. Currently, my delivery driver and his band of merry fellows (brother and two old high school friends) are at a rotted-out childhood pirate ship/fort, rescuing the heroine, who has been kidnapped, tied up, and gagged. Sadly, the hero has to be be the one to rescue her, so while one friend (Stephen) is swinging from a rope, and he and his brother Lorenzo are engaged in hand-to-hand combat, Wilford (the other old friend) is going to set the heroine free, but…wait! Stop! No! Only our trusty delivery driver can do the job. So she’s left bound and gagged until he can manage it.

There are two murders that must be solved, and the heroine’s son must also be saved. The arc of the book reaches a small climax at the pirate ship, the largest climax at the fight with [redacted], and then the most tense but least action-oriented climax at the boy’s rescue. Finis. The dragonflies are now happy.

Oda al acordeón (I should have put this through notepad, as I copied and pasted it from an archaic file format and proceeded to email it to myself):

El gran estuche negro se reposa

en mi cuarto a veces;

Es un sueño, sí, como mariposas

que en crisálidas duermen,

para que, adentro, descansen loas,

sonatas y sonetos de las sombras

y marea, liras mojadas en losas

que brotan de la fuente.

Una vez abierto, sobre los muelles

se derraman las olas,

el sonido, el respiro me vuelven,

la copa poderosa

de licor me llena mi anhelo tenue

por lengüetas que vibran lentamente,

por manos que abren mi voz, un fuelle

que, para mí, resopla.

Al fin, es un sabor, dulce a la boca;

no es nada, sino muerte

que en mi cama, sobre mi piel, se frota.

Son hebillas con cierre,

sombras sin sonetos; todas las cosas

que alimentan sueños, ya no me tocan.

Se transforman en canciones llorosas,

entonces se suspenden.

Quiero que la música nunca cese,

que nunca esté sola,

que el acordeonista nunca me deje

entre palabras rotas,

que su estuche negro nunca lo lleve

de mi cuarto como un amante leve

cuyos dedos son aire de repente,

espectro de mis coplas.

Jill

La decisión más importante…

…es, ¿cuál marca de acordeón debería comprar? When I first started playing, the decision seemed obvious. The most common student accordion is the Hohner Panther, and its sound is surprisingly nice for a cheaper instrument. Hohner is a trusty brand of German-made accordions, though I’m guessing the Panther is cheaper because it’s made in China.

As a self-taught musician, I’m no expert on brands. I can only listen and follow what sounds magical to my ears. That was why I chose a Gabbanelli to replace my Hohner. I realized that most of the musicians I enjoy play Gabbanellis. I also listened to numerous videos of people demonstrating the various brands of accordions, and I tended to prefer the Gabbanelli sound.

But now I’m considering buying another accordion, and I’m wondering if I should buy a different brand. I could return to the Hohner brand with an upgrade from the Panther. The Hohner Corona was originally designed with Flaco Jimenez in mind, and as far as I know, he’s always played Hohners. So did Celso Piña when he was alive; they’ve now developed an accordion called the Rebelde after him. The band Los Tigres del Norte also prefer Hohners. Again, the company has an accordion in honor of this legendary band. For the record, I find Los Tigres a little too whiny and brassy for my taste, but I have still loved a good many of their songs over the years. Their repertoire is enormous, and I can’t judge an accordion brand over their whininess.

Then, to confuse me further, the Cantabella is the brand I’ve seen my latest favorite band, Los Dos Carnales, playing. Their songs have a wonderful sound. I would love to hear that sound when I play. Not that it ever works that way precisely. I never sound exactly like other musicians. Some people are good imitators. I’m not. I’m not proud of this because it means I’m deficient at hearing and replicating. By the way, Ramón Ayala also plays Cantabellas. He’s a poster boy for that brand. But he also plays Gabbanellis. His iconic Mexican flag accordion bearing his name is a Gabbanelli. One of them is, anyway. The other is a Cantabella. The Gabbanelli has little fish on it. I will always recognize those iconic little fishes. My Gabbanelli has the little fishes on either side of the brand name. See below this post OR below this paragraph. His little fish are surrounding his name.

The acordeonista for another favorite band, Calibre Cincuenta, plays a Dino Baffetti. Speaking of sound quality, it’s hard to beat this accordion. The creator of the Acordeonísticos site I subscribe to for tutorials plays a Dino Baffetti in recent years and might even be a sales rep for the brand. I’m pretty sure I read that on one of his social media sites. Not being on social media sites (except this one), I don’t pay regular attention to anyone. When I was looking into subscribing, however, I read his other sites. I’m guessing this brand is in the same price range as the Gabbanelli accordions, but it’s hard to tell, as they don’t post prices on their site.

Yes, this post was mostly an excuse to write about accordions, despite that I don’t have an audience that cares or is in the market for one. All of that is immaterial, she said with a snooty wave of her deft, accordion-playing fingers. I want to buy one; I’ve been pinching my pennies to afford another. However, what I thought would be an easy decision is not. I plan to visit the Gabbanelli store this summer (yes, there is only one store in the entire world that sells them). Maybe I will be so overwhelmed by the bling that I will never buy another brand.

¡Ay, dolor, hecho de la música!

My history as a musician is a sad one, or a lacking one. Sadness is for those suffering losses. I simply lacked education and/or the motivation to get it. I never learned to read music, for a start. We had free violin lessons at school, but they taught via the Suzuki method, which did not teach sight reading of music until students were at a more advanced level than I reached. I took up the guitar in high school but mostly learned chords and scales. I gave it up at some point in my twenties, as I wasn’t passionate about it. There was other dabbling, such as with harmonicas and piano. My skills for my dabbling instruments never moved beyond beginner level. In other words, I’m not a natural at music. Fast forward to the future when my heart was taken by the accordion. Learning an instrument, really learning it this time, in one’s forties is probably not the best way, but it isn’t impossible.

At the start of my journey, I had a few instructional books, including a book of scales. I used to keep my books in a pocket in my accordion case. It wasn’t a proper case, but a “gig” bag. That was why it had a pocket in it for music. As it was a cheaper Hohner Panther accordion, buying an expensive hard case for it didn’t seem worthwhile. All my books were, therefore, destroyed with the Hohner in the accident. Some of these books I’ve moved past in skill and don’t care much about. Others, I’d like to replace, but, unfortunately, they are all out of print and nearly impossible to find. One of them specifically taught sight reading for the accordion, which I appreciated, albeit it used the American music notation. None taught the songs I listen to on the radio — or YouTube or Spotify. I had one video tutorial I’d purchased on CD that had Flaco Jimenez teaching some traditional songs. Just watching him is inspirational. Flaco is the best. Also, I like his personality.

I’m a stereotype, really, amongst norteño accordeonistas because the first song I learned was Tragos Amargos. It’s not a difficult song, though I’m not sure why it’s the ultimate song for student acordeonistas to learn first. It’s funny how the word “ultimate” has evolved in English to not just mean “last” but to also imply something is “the epitome.” Because I listen to Spanish so frequently, I found myself adding the word “first” as a descriptor so that my audience didn’t think I meant “last.” Moving past that little rabbit trail, I found Tragos Amargos on El Bigshow’s YouTube channel. I used to love doing his tutorials. I still do them every once in a while. He’s easy to follow and has a teaching personality I like; I’m particular about personalities, and that’s going to be a heightened snobbery regarding any artists. I’m sorry, I apologize — it’s just that artists are annoying. Anyway, for most people struggling to pick up an instrument, mastering a song they enjoy will help get them past the hurdle of frustration that comes with learning an instrument. There’s a reason I used to force myself to play only half an hour a day five days a week. It was hard work, but I knew if I put at least a little time in, I’d start enjoying it and experience less frustration. Now I play an hour each day, seven days a week. I would play longer if I had the time.

Another goal that helped me jump over my hurdles of frustration was to be able to play along with songs I liked. It’s one thing to know how to play a song. Playing at speed and with good musicality is another skill. The first song I could play along with was Abeja Reina. I didn’t, however, learn that from one tutorial. I learned the song from various sources, including listening to the song itself (by Los Traileros). Playing with my favorite accordion players has been tricky, to put it mildly. Yes, I can play a handful of simple songs with the recordings, such as the aforementioned, and La del Moño Colorado, Navido Pavido, Hay Unos Ojos, etc. Simple songs…but honestly, playing along is a big hurdle to jump over.

Sometimes, I look at my musical history and realize that it’s a royal mess. Despite never learning to read music with fluency, I did learn the basic structure. FACE and Every Good Boy… You know. And then along came this obsession with norteño, and I’ve had to adapt to the tonic scale. In Spanish, the tonic scale is do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si. No ti with jam and bread, sorry. I play a Fa accordion, which has a row of Fa, Sib, and Mib. The b stands for bemol, which means flat. In America, they are denoted as F, Bb, Eb; I assume the b used for flat comes from the Latin. This is the most commonly played accordion in norteño; that’s why I chose it. I’ve also noticed numerous songs are played in Sib and Mib. I was listening intently to a song the other day because I wanted to learn it and realized the entire song is played on the Mib scale in terceras (thirds). In theory, it’s an easy song to play. More on that in a minute.

I often watch Body Project videos for my exercise, and even when they’re not that difficult, Daniel, in his Aussie accent, tells us we’ve gotten to the point of “mass carnage” on the exercise floor. That’s how I feel about my musical journey at this point. Norteño musicians speak and sing and write in Spanish. They use the tonic scale…in Spanish. I started playing in my forties. I’m still in my forties (for a little while longer), so I haven’t been playing that long. It’s carnage, my brains splattered everywhere. Some days, I understand everything because my brain has adapted, and other days, I just can’t. I can’t figure out the fingering on a song, and if I watch a tutorial, I can’t understand the Spanish. Well, I’m sure I can. It’s just so much extra work. And I’m tired. I suppose opera singers feel the same if they didn’t grow up speaking Italian or German. Maybe scientists do, too, because it’s guaranteed they didn’t grow up with Latin spoken at home. If I’m going to be a norteño accordion player, Spanish will be my trade language, and I have to accept that. By the way, I love Spanish. My love of Spanish long predates my love of the accordion. The only problem is it’s not my first language.

Unfortunately, I’ve reached a point where the frustration with my instrument has returned. Yes, it’s carnage on the exercise floor. I don’t know how to push past this intermediate level I’m playing at. If my fingers were more flexible or if they could keep up with the complicated songs, I could enter the realm of competent musicians. Being competent isn’t what it’s about, though. It’s about the magic. That’s what I want. There are mechanics to it. A song that sounds easy almost never is. There are runs of hidden notes that are played in fast arpeggios that add to that sound but aren’t immediately obvious. And don’t forget the trinos. Trinos are everywhere. In English, that would be a trill. Trinos are what give the norteño accordion such a distinctive and magical sound, and they aren’t as easy as noodling back and forth between alternating buttons; I mean, yes, they are that easy. But there is still a technique to it. There is also the…whatsit that can’t be defined or broken down. Achieving that is like trying to physically capture any intangible. Music itself is inexplicable to a materialistic world. How does one capture the inexplicable? The magic? The thoughts, prayers, or feelings that can’t be put into words? The norteño accordion is, in my not so humble opinion, the most magical of all instruments. I just wish that magic would emerge from my fingers.

Sueño en español

(English translation below, as much for the English speakers as the Spanish speakers who can’t understand my bad Spanish.)

Voy a escribir una canción — tal vez más de una! — en español para cantar mientras toco mi acordeón. Será como la de Los Alacranes, el grupo de Alemania (no el grupo mexicano, Alacranes Musical), quien cantaban sus canciones en inglés. Sus letras eran un poco extrañas; que es decir, eran obvias de una manera un hablante nativo no las habría escrito. Creo que podré traer una perspectiva diferente, como “The Scorpions”, aunque no escribiré de perras que tienen hambre de pecados en la turbulencia de un huracán.

Mis canciones serán de pajarillos y amor porque estos son los temas que yo prefiero. Tal vez, escribiré una canción de mariposas, tambien. Las mariposas, los pajarillos, y el amor. Tengo romance en el alma, incluso cuando no existe en la vida actual…y casi nunca existe (ser honesta). Es como una fantasma que se siente pero pocas veces se ve. Y ahora, estoy triste y llena de melancolía por tantos pensamientos.

Hace muchos años yo escribí muchos poemas en español. En esos días, estudiaba la literatura tradicional española, y estaba aprendiendo a reconocer las formas de la poesía tradicional. Por eso, escribí unos romances y sonetos y unas decimas, letrillas, etcetera. Estas formas no se pierden en la niebla de la vida diaria, claramente no. ¡Mentirosa! Por el contrario, se pierden, pero puedo encontrarlas de nuevo. ¡Ahora, es el año del acordeón y de encontrar la poesía y de escribir español muy malo!

I’m going to write a song — perhaps more than one! — in Spanish to sing while I play my accordion. It will be like that of The Scorpions, the group from Germany (not the Mexican group, Alacranes Musical), who sang their songs in English. Their lyrics were a little strange; that is to say, they were obvious in way a native speaker wouldn’t have written them. I believe that I’ll be able to bring a different perspective, like The Scorpions, even though I won’t write about bitches that are hungry for sin in the turbulence of a hurricane.

My songs will be about little birds and love because these are the subjects I prefer. Perhaps, I will write about butterflies, too. Butterflies, little birds, and love. I have romance in my soul, even when it doesn’t exist in real life…and it almost never exists (to be honest). It is like a ghost that is felt but rarely seen. And now, I’m sad and full of melancholy because of such thoughts.

Years ago, I wrote numerous Spanish poems. In those days, I was studying traditional Spanish literature, and I was learning to recognize the traditional Spanish forms of poetry. Because of that, I wrote some decimas, sonetos, letrillas, etcetera. These forms aren’t lost in the fog of daily life, clearly not. Liar! On the contrary, they are lost, but I can find them again. Now, it’s the year of the accordion and of finding poetry and writing really awful Spanish!

Organization!

If it seems that I’m trying to write more on my blog, yes, I have been. I get overwhelmingly busy, and this is the first to go. I no longer wish that to be the case. As today is a day off, and I’m being lazy more than I am productive, I thought I would write a simple note here on productivity. It happens through A. hard work and B. organization.

I’ve long been organized with my exercise routine. I walk for 30 minutes every evening, and do a focused exercise for 30 minutes in the morning. I follow a routine: cardio, strength, stability, repeat. That makes 6 workouts a week, with Sunday reserved for one long, relaxing walk only. This combination, which has some overlap — e.g., some stability workouts are combinations of cardio plus balance and standing abs — works. I’m only exercising an hour a day, but my organization keeps me fit.

As I’m staring at my laptop from the office shed I rarely have time to use, I’m wondering why I can’t apply this kind of organization to finishing my current novel or playing the accordion. To be fair, I subscribed to the Acordeonisticos website to try to create a more focused approach than playing an hour a day of whatever I feel like playing. But I’m still prone to playing whatever I feel like playing, even after subscribing. I need a focused plan! An example might be: music theory, practice old songs, learn a new song, repeat, with Sunday my anything-goes day.

Re writing, my organization amounts to writing 1000 words a day. This is an extremely disorganized plan. I need those 1000 words to be focused. I need to do more mapping and editing. My mapping exists, but it is very slapdash. I will provide a pic, so you can see how slapdash it is. I will also provide a pic of my beloved office that awaits me, a dusty place shut up most days because I have an office at the parish I use 45 hours a week. But I can’t use that office to write; my only shot at that is to sit in the office kitchen on my lunch hour and slam out a few words.

I’m not one for outlining. It gives me the horrors and bad memories from failing at English class in my childhood. I probably should have paid more attention to it. I need to start outlining. Following an outline is the only way to write a book, unlike the pattern of threes that could work for music, as it does for exercise.