This week Ralph Shaw's weekly ukulele newsletter has a story about a really great organization that promotes peace between Israeli and Arab kids through the ukulele. Here's what Ralph has to say:

The lyric goes Happy Christmas (War is Over). Well how about it? I think it's safe to say that most of us want peace in the world but how many of us really do something to make it happen?

Paul Moore does. Let me tell you about him. He's a British ex-pat in his late 50s or thereabouts. A professional entertainer, he made Israel his home many years ago.

One day, frustrated at the ongoing strife that seems to have always been a part of that region, Paul came to a decision. He finally figured that Peace, if there is such a thing, will not soon come about by political means. It has to begin with people. So 6 years ago he approached a Jewish school and an Arab school in his area and proposed the idea of a ukulele orchestra.

The musicians in the orchestra would be Arab and Jewish kids. The schools agreed and Paul's "Friendly Monster" was born. Paul had no idea what an all-consuming task he was taking on.

Practices and rehearsals were set up. Paul had to find playable ukuleles. He gave up his free time to travel and organize. Evenings and weekends were all given up towards getting these keen, bright-eyed young children their first musical education. The kids loved it. Not wanting money issues to hinder participation Paul began raising funds to pay for things such as instruments, strings, travel to shows etc.

Pot-luck picnics in public parks were organized. Trips and holiday celebrations were set up. Of course the parents had to come along too, so did siblings. Age old prejudices and fears were laid aside. So began the rituals of Arab and Jewish families sharing food while their children played games and made joyful music together.

If you have any doubt about the power of music take a look at this video of 2 of Paul's students and then tell me you don't believe in Paul's vision! (note: Ralph didn't link to it, but here's the second half of the Ukuleles for Peace video.)

As much fun and benefit as this is on a local scale Paul Moore has kept his eye on a greater goal. He wants the world to see what can be done. Paul has long said that he wants the Ukuleles For Peace Orchestra to play before the United Nations.

As a step towards this goal I am helping him with something that could potentially place his Orchestra before a world-wide audience.

The Winter Olympics will be here in Vancouver in February (only 2 months away). Hundreds of Thousands of people including athletes, spectators, politicians, royalty, the media and performers will descend on this city for a vibrant and colourful celebration of winter sports and culture.

Just over 1 year ago I helped arrange a meeting between Paul and an Olympic organizer. The upshot is both good news and bad news. The good news is that the 2010 Winter Olympics have agreed to allow Ukuleles for Peace to come and perform during that time. The bad news is that the Olympics are unable to allocate any budget for either their performance or travel.

Coming to the Winter Olympics could be remarkable in many ways. Not only would it go a long way toward Paul's dream of showing the world how unity, friendship and peace are there for the taking. It would also be a life-changing experience for these children of whom some have never been outside their native land.

Help so far has come from several sources. Accomodation will be with the families of the Langley Ukulele Ensemble. Think of that! Arab and Jewish kids from Israel being able to hang out with Canadian kids who are also in a ukulele orchestra.

A Vancouver Rabbi, known for his work in bringing Arabs and Jews together has offered time and fund-raising to help bring Ukes for Peace to Vancouver. Other organizations here (like the Jewish Federation) are also raising money. Oh, and don't forget the families who are over in Israel running around trying to gather money for this project so dear to their hearts.

The financial mountain is a large one however. The costs of flying 15 to 20 kids plus a few parents could be as much as $50,000.

I promised Paul that I would support him in this. Which is why I am reaching out to you now. The Ukuleles for Peace Project has always been run on a shoestring. Every year Paul wonders if he can continue. Then he looks into the faces of young children eager to join their older brothers and sisters in the Ukulele band and he cannot say no. Paul calls U.f P. his "Friendly Monster". It has taken over not only his life but also that of his wife Daphna who runs the necessary administration. Often it gets in the way of him making a living for himself. Basically he needs some help!

Financial Donations: You can donate to Ukuleles for Peace at their website. There is a donation button at the top left of the page.

Air Travel: Some help is coming from El Al Airline for flights between Israel & Toronto but the portion from Toronto to Vancouver needs to be dealt with. If you know of some way of obtaining cheap or free flights between Toronto and Vancouver that could be most useful.

I'll just leave you with one final thought. Peace doesn't just come from governments making new laws or signing international treaties. It's not something that descends from on high. It comes from the actions of ordinary people like you and me. Ukuleles for Peace is an example of a simple, small project that is building bridges between kids, families and communities in a very difficult environment. And that's something I want to support. How about you?

Labels: community, politics, ukulele

I just heard about an exciting bill that's coming up for a vote at Toronto City Council very soon.

Beautifulcity.ca aims to tax public billboards and put the money raised into municipal arts funding. If it's passed, it would lead to much more public art in the city, and more funding for artists, festivals, and for marginalized communities in Toronto. It's a brilliant idea, and I think all Torontonians should go to the website, sign the petition, and call their city councillor to urge them to support this bill.



Here's a little bit of information from their website:

What?
BeautifulCity.ca is a city building initiative that aims to beautify, democratize and diversify access to public space, and in turn -- hold companies investing in billboard advertising accountable for their impact on shared spaces through an annual license fee. At earler staff estimated, mid-range revenues of 18 million per year (now knocked down to 11 million) the following would be possible:

• A historical 53% increase to the annual municipal funding available to all artists, festivals and arts institutions,
• Close to $100 000.00 dollars for public realm improvement for each Toronto ward, every year -- for projects such as greening,
• Almost a 1/3 of a million dollars for each of the 13 priority neighbourhoods to fund accessible youth arts programming, and
• Hiring 17 dedicated officers to enforce the new billboard bylaw.


How?
Through an tax paid for by third-party billboard advertisers. Revenue would go through Cultural Grants for arts, Clean and Beautiful funding to individual wards and the Community Resource Unit for marginalized communitties. Then directed to art in the public sphere (public art) through various arms-length agencies and peer assessed processes. A priority would be put on marginalized communities and youth art.

There is lots more at: http://www.beautifulcity.ca

Actions you can take:
> write and call your city councillor
> sign the petition in support of the bill at http://www.beautifulcity.ca
> show up for the debate and vote which will be November 30-December 1st.

And, for those of you outside Toronto, wish us luck -- it could have a ripple effect far beyond Toronto.

Labels: Canadian folk music, community, music biz, politics

Hello friends,

I've been in blogger hibernation for a long time, but I haven't forgotten you! Sometimes it gets hard to pick up the pen and be creative on schedule, and sometimes life just takes us to other places for a while. But I've decided to plunge in again. I thought I would start by sharing an article I wrote for the latest issue of Penguin Eggs Magazine, a reflection about going to Pete Seeger's 90th birthday concert this past May. (By the way, if you are a fan of Canadian folk music, you should subscribe to Penguin Eggs.)

I can be pretty cynical about hero worship. I don’t have much patience with the impulse to elevate human beings to saint-like proportions. But a few months ago, I excitedly jumped in my car and drove to New York City for the weekend. My motivation: a chance to be in the audience for Pete Seeger’s 90th birthday concert at Madison Square Gardens.

So what it is about Pete Seeger that overcomes my jaded cynicism? I guess I can’t imagine another musician who has influenced me more, or had more impact on folk music. I honestly believe I wouldn’t be performing and teaching all over Canada—indeed I wonder how many festivals, camps, concert series, and house concerts would even be here—if it weren’t for Pete Seeger.

Regardless of whether you are a fan of Pete Seeger, there is no denying his profound influence on all of us involved in folk music. There’s no way to sum up that influence in a short article, but here are some things that come to mind when I think of Pete Seeger:


I think of the many concerts I attended as a kid, where an older lanky guy with twinkly blue eyes—dressed in a flannel shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers—enthusiastically coaxed thousands of us to sing together in beautiful harmony. Sometimes he told stories, or played whistle, or sang in foreign languages. He had a casual, friendly way of speaking that made you feel like you were sitting in his living room. And he talked and sang about ordinary people from all over—people from the mountains of Appalachia, the mines of South Africa, the river valleys of New York State, or the cities of India and Northern Ireland.

He always had news to share, about striking farm workers, the struggle against apartheid, or the river that ran by his house in Beacon, New York. There were people to remember—Woody Guthrie, Jose Marti, Victor Jara. There was celebration, of simple things like maple syrup, or important things like the end of segregation in the south. And there was always more work to be done. So why not sing as we work?



I think of songs. Thousands of songs. Songs like “Guantanamera,” “Turn, Turn, Turn,” “Wimoweh,” and “We Shall Overcome” that Pete helped spread around the world. I think of all the songs I learned from my mom, a red diaper baby from the Bronx who grew up singing folk music. I think of the songs I’ve learned from other musicians, or recordings, or Sing Out! Magazine—a magazine that Pete helped usher into being. And I think of informal gatherings across Canada and the US where people get together to sing, purely for fun.

I think of banjos. Lots of them. And all the people who were inspired by his book “How to Play the 5-String Banjo.” I think of his banjo, inscribed with the words, “This machine surrounds hate and forces it to surrender.”

I think of Pete, appearing before the House Un-American Activities Committee in 1955, refusing to discuss any people or organizations he had sung for, and insisting on his right to sing where and for whomever he pleased. And if he could just sing them a few songs, surely they would comprehend his love for his country.

I think of the college campuses and church basements and summer camps where Pete sang during the blacklist years. How he managed to survive those lean times and foster a new audience for folk music, creating a grassroots performing circuit in the process.

I think of the Hudson River, which used to be so polluted that you couldn’t swim or fish in it. And I think of the organization Pete founded in 1969 to save that river: Hudson River Sloop Clearwater. His idea: build a replica of an old river sloop, and sail it up and down the river, educating people about the river. Forty years later, the Hudson River is clean enough to swim in, largely due to the efforts of Clearwater.

Most of all, when I think of Pete Seeger, I think of an unflagging optimism that permeates everything he does—a belief that if we can somehow pull ourselves together, if each of us can do our part, we just might be able to save the planet and live together in peace.

It’s an optimism I find hard to maintain sometimes. And yet, here he was on May 3rd, at 90 years old, playing his banjo in Madison Square Gardens and leading 18,000 people in singing “Amazing Grace.” In the middle of the song, he paused, and told the story of John Newton, the slaveship operator who had a change of heart, found god, and became an anti-slavery activist. Newton eventually wrote dozens of hymns, among them “Amazing Grace.” If a man like John Newton can change, Pete seemed to be saying, surely there is hope for all of us. And if 18,000 people can sing together in harmony, surely we can overcome our differences and find peaceful solutions to our problems.

Amazing Grace, indeed. Thanks, Pete. Here’s to you and your 90 years.

Published in Penguin Eggs Magazine, Autumn 2009 issue

Labels: music history, musical heroes, politics

My fellow songwriter Lynn Harrison beat me to it! This inspiring speech by Karl Paulnak at the Boston Conservatory has been making the rounds of the internet. It's a moving and incisive treatise on why music is not just an added frill, but an essential way of responding to the world around us. And why we need music now more than ever.

Labels: community, music biz, politics, singing, the artist's life

There's a campaign in progress to get Pete Seeger nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. Find out more and sign the petition here.

Pete's been in the news a lot recently. As I mentioned recently, he won the Best Traditional Folk Album at the Grammys for his album "At 89."

He got a whole jaded New York TV audience singing along on Late Night with David Letterman a little while ago. And he performed at the 2009 Inauguration Concert at the Lincoln Memorial with Bruce Springsteen.



It's hard to imagine a living musician today who's had more influence on the social movements of our times. If anyone deserves a Nobel Peace Prize, it's Pete Seeger. Go sign the petition.

Labels: music history, musical heroes, politics

I've recently been reading a lot, indulging my interest in music history, creativity, the brain, and community. Here's a list of what I've motored through in the last few months:

The Gift, by Lewis Hyde: I loved it. For anyone who works in a creative field, it's a must read. It's hard to encapsulate in a sentence, but basically it's about the value of creative endeavor in a modern society defined by money and commodification. The book has been out for 25 years-- not exactly new on the scene-- but it's central theme doesn't seem dated at all. It was hard slogging in some places because the writing is densely packed and the ideas are pretty heady. But I found myself constantly underlining passages and reading parts aloud to my partner. And I'm still thinking about it, almost a month later.

Amazing Grace: The Story of America's Most Beloved Song by Steve Turner tells the history of this seminal song, from a detailed biography of the song's author John Newton, to a history of the song's rise to iconic status. Over the years, the myth of the song has grown, but Turner does a good job of clearing away the mythology and establishing the facts of Newton's life, as far as we know them, and putting the song in a historical context.

Continuing on my music history kick, I also read White Christmas: The Story of an American Song. Author Jody Rosen tells the compelling story of the most recorded song in musical history. There's a lot more meat to this story than you might think - the song's creation was anything but straightforward, and it did not become an instant classic. Although it's a short book, Rosen packs in a lot of insight into the life of Irving Berlin, the workings of Tin Pan Alley and Hollywood, social mores of 1940's America, the birth of Christmas music, and more. Highly recommended.

And, moving to my interest in music and the brain, Daniel Levitin's latest book, The World in Six Songs is a fascinating look into how humans evolved into musical beings. I loved Levitin's first book, This is Your Brain on Music, and the new book did not disappoint.

And finally, right now, I'm reading Dancing in the Streets: A History of Collective Joy by Barbara Ehrenreich. Academic, but very juicy. I'll try to report back on that one when I'm done.

Labels: books, community, music biz, music history, politics, the artist's life

Amnesty International is celebrating the 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights by launching a new campaign this fall called Small Places. It's a "Global Arts Jam," a call to artists and creative types of all stripes to speak out about human rights issues. There will be events happening all over Canada, and all over the world, spearheaded by ordinary folks who want to make a difference. Anyone who wants can create a small places event.

Check it out at http://www.smallplaces.ca/
Read the current newsletter here.

Labels: community, politics

A few weeks ago I sang at Amnesty International Canada's Annual General Meeting. I performed my song "The Streets of Burma," which is being used by Amnesty as part of a campaign to help free one of the monks imprisoned in Myanmar.



In a way, my performance at the AGM was completing a circle. "The Streets of Burma" was born last fall, when I was invited to perform at a benefit for an Amnesty International chapter in Thornbury, Ontario. I had been thinking about writing a song about the "Saffron Revolution" in Burma/Myanmar, and I had jotted down some initial ideas, when I realized that the upcoming Amnesty event would be the perfect place to sing such a song. Deadlines are always helpful for me, so I worked away at the song, and sang the first draft for Amnesty International Canada Group 82 on November 7, 2007.

It was gratifying to sing the song in that context, but I worried that writing a song just wasn't enough. I wanted it to do more than just help people remember what had happened in Myanmar, I wanted it to help spur listeners to action.

Shortly after that, on a whim, I contacted Amnesty Canada's national office to see whether they might be interested in using the song somehow. To my surprise they responded right away, and the result has been a postcard campaign urging the Myanmar government to release U Gambira. Over the last six months I have sung all over Ontario, Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, and Maryland, and everywhere I've gone, audience members have enthusiastically signed postcards to help free U Gambira. I've personally mailed in hundreds and hundreds of postcards, and I know that Amnesty members have also been circulating and mailing the postcards from all across Canada. I never dreamed that my song could have such an immediate, concrete impact, and I'm thrilled to be associated with a respected group like Amnesty International.

So, on June 14th, I got up in front of a room of Amnesty International members, activists from all across Canada, and I sang "The Streets of Burma." It was the very beginning of their weekend meeting, and I knew that the hundreds of delegates there had a lot of hard work in front of them. My song, in the large scheme of things, wasn't the most important thing for Amnesty International Canada that weekend. But in that moment, I felt the synergy of a simple song bringing exactly the right spirit and energy to a particular group of people, and for me, the circle was completed.

Over the course of that afternoon, I heard about Amnesty Canada's activities over the last year. I saw a special tribute to Alex Neve, Secretary General of Amnesty Canada, who recently received the Order of Canada. And I watched democracy in action as the meeting began and members rose to make points or suggestions. I met dozens of Amnesty members from big and small communities. One had been distributing the postcards in the Kitchener-Waterloo school system. Another asked if her chapter could use my song at their event this August. Many took more postcards to distribute in their communities. It was an honour to perform for and meet these hardworking people who are doing so much for human rights.

Thank you, Amnesty International Canada for inspiring me to write "The Streets of Burma,"and for keeping the flame of human rights burning bright around the world. It is a privilege to be a small part of your work.

Labels: community, politics, songwriting