FamJam for the New Year

Happy New Year, my friends, and my wishes for you for a happy, creative and great year. I'm counting on it!

In a family of musicians (which does not include me!), we usually end up with a jam session. Thirty years ago, my husband and brothers-in-law, and occasionally a brother would play into the wee hours. As our kids learned to play, they added to the mix with both fabulous playing and sweet singing. Having recently gained a musician-son-in-law, our jam sessions have gained a new name: FamJam. It is the best way ever to have a good time, and to celebrate being together. Those of us who don't play can sometimes sing, and also play the vital role of appreciative audience.
Here's to 2011, more music, large doses of creativity, and many, many hugs.

Hearing Voices

Last year, I was part of a small group show with my local artist group, affectionately known as "the tArts." The show was held at the lovely and spacious Stocker Gallery at Lorain County Community College.

The tArts in the 2008 configuration: Christy Gray, Tina Rossi, Gayle Pritchard, Christine Mauersberger, Lois Carroll, Susanne Gregg, Jill Milenski, Susan Shie, at the opening of Flavors of Fiber in 2008.

One of the pieces I made for the show, I Hear Voices, was inspired by a song my husband wrote, Simon Says. It's a fairly large piece, given the work I have created in the past years, and attempts to tell the story in fabric. The installation image of the piece doesn't quite do it justice, because of my limited photography skills.

I Hear Voices in My Head by Gayle Pritchard, 2008.

All of this is to give a little background to the video I have posted to my blog. My husband, Chris, who has been a musician all of his life, also happens to be the most creative human being I know. Today, he made a video integrating the song, his photography and my art piece. I hope you will enjoy it.

Going to the Circus at the House of Blues

Last weekend, we went to the House of Blues to hear the Cleveland band DOHM perform songs from their new album, The Circus. Their set didn't begin until 11:00 p.m., way past our bedtime, as my husband and I often joke, but we went early, and stayed for the whole show. And we weren't the oldest people present at this jazzy, melodic home-grown alt-metal band, or as Scene Magazine writer Keith Gribbins described them in his recent album review, "nü-metal."

I take a special interest in the performances and success of DOHM, not only because my son is the drummer, but also because I have watched these guys play music since they were practically pre-pubescent. I have watched them grow up, and marveled as they grew up to be really hot musicians. If you click on the DOHM link it will take you to their MySpace page, where you can hear a sampling of some of their music. I especially like Rags to Riches and The Exploited on their newest album...er, CD.

Cleveland Plain Dealer music review by John Benson

I have been surrounded by music for most of my life. My father was a musician, who made a record that I had never known about until after he died. During my childhood he kept a set of cocktail drums in our living room, which he would play with brushes whenever the mood struck. He also loved to sing, and my parents were both wonderful dancers. Like many little girls of my era, I learned to dance standing on top of daddy's shoes. I am sorry that he isn't around to see how his grandson and namesake grew to become a world class drummer.

Both my brother and his son are musicians, and my youngest sister's son, as well. My daughter and her husband both play. My oldest sister was, I think, first chair clarinet in our high school band. I even married a musician. In fact, on July 10th his acoustic duo Back Bay will be playing on an outdoor stage at the beach here on the Northcoast.

Living with music is, to me, like playing in the garden or going to see a play: the common threads of creativity, self expression and connection, to each other, the world, the earth, are what bind us. I cannot imagine a world without music. I cannot imagine a world without singing, dancing, art, flowers, drama or books. I guess I have managed to create the perfect world for myself, and, in the process, had a small part in passing it along.