Singer, Songwriter, Music Researcher & all that Jazz

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When was the last time you did a serious cleaning of your computer? Deleting not just files, but entire folders of information (images, music, documents) that you simply no longer need and that continue to take up space, slowing down your machine? Actually, this was exactly my motivation to start a real cleaning, which started in my work area and grew and spread to the most hidden corners of folders from more than ten, fifteen years ago.

“Oh, but I do not use a computer anymore, I only use my cell phone,” you might be saying. Okay, so when did you clean up your photo and video files? “But I only use messaging apps,” you insist. But did you know about the existence of a somewhat hidden folder in the system called “sent files”? When was the last time you went there?

Getting rid of old things is not easy and the history of all arts is there to prove it. The music field, for instance, is full of memorable representations of the pain involved in letting something or someone go. The feelings in this process may vary a lot, and hold a vast palette of colors, which goes from the not so gentle avarice to the celebratory affective memory, you know, that warm corner of our minds.

But, as I said, I needed to make some free room and there was not much to negotiate anymore: I needed to delete files, including a lot of concert memories, old videos, photos of performances, audio files of early versions of songs and such. Not easy, I tell you, not easy at all.

Each separation process is unique but they all have a breaking point, a certain moment of no return. In my case, after much negotiation with myself, it finally occurred to me that it was not necessary to get rid of the files, but just to get them out of my way, so to speak, which in practice meant transferring them from my notebook to the cloud, a nice back up. By doing, it I would also finally making good on the monthly fee I pay to the provider and which until now had only been used to share some files with musicians or producers.

But the ultimate argument to finally making the decision of cleaning up my computer was remembering why I indeed needed more free space: because I have other songs to record, shows to record, in short, I have more life to live.

Well, maybe you are not the type of person who keeps unnecessary files in your device, but there is for sure some area(s) of ​​your life where you need more free space. It does not matter if it is in your closet, in your basement or your heart.

The good news is that you do not have to give up the feelings these things once gave you. The feelings remain, but not just left somewhere along the way. Instead of risking falling on them, how about taking them to a safe place where you can access them, if necessary or from time to time, just for old time sake. What a relief that would be, don´t you agree?

Be seeing you,

G. F.

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Do you remember the last time you got a real hug? Over the past year, I can remember four very special hugs.

The first one happened when I was waiting in line to get into the Municipal Theater for a performance by the exceptional musician Maurício Einhorn. After he tried his luck with some people in line, without much success, a homeless man approached me and asked for money. When I offered it to him, he spontaneously gave me a hug so tight that he wrinkled my outfit a little and walked away smiling.

The second hug and the third hug were similar, as they both came from two young women, accompanied by their companions, also homeless. One of them was pregnant and, unlike the man at the theater, on both occasions the ladies asked permission to hug me.

The fourth hug happened when my travel backpack arrived from the dry cleaners. Before putting it back in the closet, I took it out of the plastic bag and the smell that filled the room evoked so many memories… That simple object represented a whole series of experiences lived throughout the year, and without really realizing it, I hugged my backpack. For a long time.

In my defense, I would like to say that the power of small things to release powerful memories and affections has already been the subject of great masters of literature, such as Marcel Proust.

There is a lot of power in small things, in small gestures, in small events, those that seem trivial, but that together are responsible for the largest part of our existence.

In this year that has just begun, I want to wish you many memorable experiences, of all sizes. And, of course, lots of tight hugs.

Happy New Year!

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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When I was a little girl, my parents took me to see the Christmas decorations on the streets which, in addition to twinkling lights and decorated trees, also included a small crowd of Santa Clauses. Nothing special, a prosaic family activity that my older sister loved, as did most children. Most, but not me.

The memories I have of that first encounter with the street Santas are one of those blurred memories we have of events from our early childhood, but the impact that the experience had on me was so strong that I can still feel it vividly today, and I can only describe it as fear and amazement.

Fear because they were obviously impostors, trying to pass themselves off as the real Santa Claus. and amazement because the adults seemed not to realize that, if there was a Santa Claus on every corner, they could only be copies of the real one, the true Santa, who would never stay on the sidewalk shouting out promotions for a shoe shop.

To make things even worse, they insisted that I should sit on the lap of one of the fakeSantas and have a picture taken! Were adults really that stupid? Apparently, yes.

If the adults who were supposed to protect me seemed not to realize the danger (who were those men in red with fake beards, anyway?), then it was up to me to get out of that situation. I was alone in my mission to unmask the fraudsters and I resisted bravely, fighting with the weapons I had at the time, crying and probably kicking a bit, too. It had some effect, I guess. At least, not a single photo with Santa Claus. And, by the way, I also learned not to trust people who pretend to be what they are not.

You might think that I was a very suspicious little girl and that I did not experience the magic of Christmas, but I prefer to believe that I was, in fact, a very smart little girl, who was not easily fooled and had an admirable sense of survival.

I certainly did not doubt the existence Santa Claus, quite the opposite, but my Santa Claus, the one who inhabited my mind and heart as a child, was a transcendental, powerful being, and he did not even remotely resemble those poorly made copies that were certainly not the responsible ones for the presents I found under the Christmas tree in the living room on the morning of the 25th.

Probably many other kids have cried the first time the met a street Santa or questioned the profusion of Santa Clauses on the streets, I was just more determined than average and did not give in.

This Christmas, I wish you the determination of that little girl and the discernment to distinguish the true magic of Christmas, the one you cannot explain but feel deep in your heart, from the false promises and the meaningless “ho-ho-hos”.

Merry Christmas.

Be seeing you!

G. F.

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I haven’t been here in over four months (wow!), and there were many reasons for this long absence: screen fatigue, overwork, and even a slight feeling that there was not much to tell, no really interesting adventures to share. But today is my birthday and I decided to start the new trip around the Sun with a new post because, well, because they say that the things we do on our birthday have a lot of power, so why not give the universe a little help, right?

Besides, even though the day is barely half over, I have already accumulated so many lessons that, at the rate things are going, I will not be able to absorb them all byalone, so I would like to share the top three with you, my loyal reader. Ready?

Lesson #1: It does not matter how prepared you are: on your birthday, the probability of something not being to your liking is approximately 100% with no margin of error.

Unfortunately, and much to my displeasure, the universe does not stop to celebrate my birthday (or yours), so there must be some room for adaptation. The challenge is to readapt the route without losing the way.

Lessom #2: Who said one day can ruin a year? This one serves more or less as compensation for the first one. Even if your birthday starts off on the wrong foot, who says that this is a sign that things won’t go well in the next 365 days?

This morning, for example, I was interrupted while taking a shower, and then again when I was about to start my breakfast. The reasons for the interruptions were noble, but it is no fun to drink bad coffee with burnt bread on any day of the year. But instead of seeing this as a sign that things will not go well in the next twelve months, I prefer to think that, on the contrary, by exhausting unpleasant situations right at the beginning of the first day, things can only go very well from now on. It is like doing an annual spring cleaning.

Lessom #3: Do not get lost in melancholic daydreams about what happened. Today is the day to congratulate yourself on the path you have traveled so far, and focus on what is to come.The way I see it, each year lived represents an achievement, after all, living is not exactly an easy task and yet here we are, alive. Who knows how, who knows at what price, but alive. And about to begin another cycle. It is no small feat. Cross the threshold and celebrate yourself.

I know that certain days, and not just birthdays (perhaps for you it’s the changing of the seasons, or the end of the year) have the power to cause us very strong and not always pleasant feelings. Days in which emotions are on the surface and every action or thought takes on much greater contours than usual. Do not let yourself get too carried away, these moments will pass.

The beauty and irony of life is that both good days and bad days have the same amount of hours.

And, a last word, a bonus, if you will: if possible, listen to some tango music. No birthday personal drama resists to tango: they all turn, magically, into beuaty and passion. I strongly recomed Piazzolla for better results..

Be seeing you!

G. F.

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When my dear friend, Anna Rodriguez,, amazing jazz singer and songwriter, invited me to a live broadcast on her social media channel, my first reaction was to say: “Yes, of course, count me in!” After all, in addition to greatly admiring her work, Anna had been a guest on QuaranJazz, the podcast I´ve created in 2020 to help musicians promote their work during the first year of the Covid-19 pandemic. I loved having her as a guest, and it had been a while since we had spoken, in short: I had all the reasons to accept, except one: the fact that I feel extremely uncomfortable in this format of interaction.

Will the technology work? Will my phone have enough battery life? Do I need to buy a phone holder? Will my neighbors make too much noise? Where should I look: at the camera or at the screen? These are only some of the many little ghosts that start to multiply themselves inside my head, whenever I accept a commitment for a virtual meeting.

I often find myself worrying about the stability of my internet connection, the quality of my webcam, and whether my background looks professional enough. As I prepared for the meeting, I wondered if I would be able to effectively communicate my points without any technical glitches. These concerns, along with the fear of being interrupted by unexpected disturbances, make the thought of virtual meetings always quite daunting to me.

On the other hand, it was an invitation from Anna, so I decided to overcome my fears and did not give up. And you know what? I am very happy I made this decision. What a lovely afternoon!

The idea of the talk, per se, is very friendly (an informal chat about various aspects of the training and career of musicians) and Anna knows how to lead the conversation very well, so that the scheduled time simply flew by.

And what do singers talk about when they meet? A little bit of everything and a lot about the art of singing. It is great to be able to talk about our creative processes, the relationship of complicity we seek with the musicians who accompany us, what moves us to open our hearts and sing.

As I once heard from a singer: the voices are always at the service of something. This profound statement highlights the essential role of voices in serving a purpose, be it conveying emotions, telling stories, or spreading messages that resonate with the audience.

Whether it is the soothing melody of a lullaby comforting a child to sleep, the impassioned vocals of a protest song advocating for change, or the stirring narration of an audiobook transporting listeners to different worlds, voices indeed play a crucial role in communication and connection.

When it comes to singingm specifically, using your voice involves choices at every turn: the selection of words, the modulation of tone, the curation of repertoire. With each deliberate and informed choice, the voice of the singer is not only perfected, but elevated to new heights, carrying with it the weight of experience and purpose.

The more informed and intentional these choices become, the more commanding and resonant the voice grows, creating a profound impact on the audience and the world at large. In other words: the more informed these choices are, the greater the voice becomes.

Choices are not always easy to make, and singing can be very tricky, but the fact of being aware of this need and knowing how to deal with it is the superpower of a singer. Most of the time we are dealing with the challenges of this superpower (with great power comes great responsibility, remember Spiderman’s maxim?), but when I talk to another singer I completely relax, even in a virtual conversation.

It was great to have the time to exchange experiences and to find out that the solitude in front of the microphone is, in fact, an experience shared by all of us.

Maybe this is why talking to other singers is always somehow a magical experience for me.

Be seeing you!

G.F.