Music – Studio Josie

Free Man in Paris: Part Two

Words and photographs from day three of my solo trip to Paris, France in November of 2021

I’ve been at a standstill writing this series, which isn’t much of a series since I’ve only written the first part.

And then, this week, while walking outside, I felt a breeze. It was short, but it was powerful: it gave me chills, but as I kept walking, the sun warmed my back. For a moment, I felt like I was back in France, in the middle of November, walking out of the metro and into the harsh greyness of the city. I was reminded of this, quickly, and though it escaped my body immediately, it didn’t leave my mind. Since then, the trip has been scattered about in my hard drive of a mind — hence my instant inspiration to continue writing about the trip.

(If you haven’t read part one, you may read it here.)

Following my first real creme brûlée, I walked back to the hostel with a full stomach and a more optimistic mindset. I figured out timing regarding the next day’s plans, and then I slept.

I had scheduled a tour at the Louvre on Airbnb for 2:00. I was happy to be able to sleep in and take a shower that morning without rushing, like I had the previous morning before the bike tour.

I took my time getting to the museum, and, of course, once I walked out of the grand metro station, it began to rain. My clothes grew slightly damp, but I didn’t really mind as I knew I’d be inside for the next few hours. Plus, to complain about rain while in a place as beautiful as Paris just seemed wrong.

I walked around the grounds surrounding the museum, stopping at a little stand for a Nutella crepe — my first one since I’d arrived. It warmed me up and made the spitting sky a little easier to endure. I found a bench to eat on and people-watched for a while, eventually calling my friend Brooke for some company.

It’s always strange calling back home from abroad. It was super early back in Boston, where Brooke was at the time, while I had been up for a few hours. My day looked so much different than hers, and a part of me wished she — or, frankly, anyone — were there with me. This desire slowly dwindled as the trip went on, though, and I ended it glad that I had gone alone.

I signed up for a tour of the museum mostly I am an auditory learner, and I knew that if I was going to visit the Louvre, I was going to leave having learned something. I’m simply no good at reading and retaining things on museum plaques, so I knew some sort of tour was necessary for such an important experience.

This was the tour I did, which highlighted the can’t-miss masterpieces of the museum. The guide, Sylvanie, was fantastic. I was the first to arrive at the meeting spot, so we talked a little bit, and it turns out she went to school in Rome for her master’s degree! One by one, other group members joined us, and once everyone had made it, we all made our way into the museum.

You really can’t understand how big this place is until you visit. This tour only scratched the surface, which I’m glad for, but it made me certain that I need to visit again to see the many works I missed.

I have so many photos, but here are just some of my favorites:

This one was discovered in 1820 by a random farmer in Greece. Imagine just casually coming across this in your yard! If you look closely in person, you can see slight cracks where it’s been attached since it wasn’t found in one piece.

I love pretty much everything by Bernini, but this has to be one of my favorites. The marble mattress is incredible, and as you walk around the whole thing, you realize why it’s called Hermaphroditus.

As I entered this room, I made the internal decision that I need to come back — to everything: to France, to Paris, and to the Louvre itself. I had no idea this room existed; honestly, the only thing I knew about the Louvre was that the Mona Lisa lived there. The fact that there are probably millions of beautiful, unforgettable things within it — and within the city alone — that I’ll likely never see both overwhelmed me and reminded me of why I love travel so much.

An underrated da Vinci masterpiece. Sylvanie explained that this one is oil painted on wood, and you can actually see the wooden texture if you look at it closely.

Alas, the moment you’ve been waiting for. Here she is, in all her glory. The Mona Lisa. I knew she was smaller in real life, but I didn’t realize she’d be that small. I was slightly underwhelmed, but still very excited.

My tour group decided to wait in line to take photos and see it up close. It actually went by much quicker than I expected, and Sylvanie kept us entertained by spitting a million facts about the painting. Long story short, I left the Louvre loving art history more than I ever have. That’s when you know you had a good tour guide.

Me & Mona.

A lovely marble sculpture by Canova. We quickly passed by this one on our way out, but it ended up being one of my favorite things I saw that day.

Once the tour ended, Sylvanie explained that our tickets were still valid and that we could continue exploring the museum if we wanted. I decided to end there, because I knew if I continued I’d get burnt out, and I wanted my last moments at the Louvre to be good ones.

We all said goodbye, and I, being a gift shop connoisseur, naturally made my way towards the shopping area. I bought a few souvenirs and Christmas presents for friends and family and then headed to the metro where I rode back to the hostel.

Riding back to Belleville, I remember standing up, holding my bag of souvenirs, and staring back at my reflection in the train’s window. I was both tired from the day’s activities thus far, and slightly nervous for the evening ahead. It felt weird to me to have so much freedom — I could easily cancel my plans, since nobody was in my way to stop me from doing so.

But instead of letting my nerves get in the way, I embraced the freedom: the freedom I had longed for for as long as I could remember. It’s weird how we desire certain things so much, and then once we’ve got them, they scare the hell out of us.

Once I got back to the hostel, I changed clothes and relaxed for a few minutes. I hadn’t decided on a place to eat dinner, but I didn’t have too much time, so I asked the girls in my room if they knew any good places in the neighborhood. One of them, who was an American living in Istanbul, recommended the pho restaurant that I’d walked past every day on my way to the hostel, so I decided to check it out.

The view from my window seat at Pho 168. The sky had darkened, and I ate pho légumes with some hot tea that evening. It was warm and delicious, and the staff was especially kind. The restaurant wasn’t busy at all — I barely had any neighbors, which was lonely but oddly soothing as I listened to only a few voices echo through the quiet dining room.

When I finished, I went up to the counter to pay before using the bathroom. Then, I ventured out into the cold and rainy night to see Sébastian Tellier — a musician who is absolutely worth enduring shitty weather for.

I hopped on a train and put in my headphones. I traveled for nearly 30 minutes, slightly anxious every time it made a stop for fear that I’d miss mine.

These flowers were the first thing I saw upon exiting the metro. I walked a few blocks and finally arrived at the Salle Pleyel. This performance was part of Pitchfork Paris, and I think it was the final show of the festival.

I arrived just on time and found my seat on the balcony. I was slightly early, but enjoyed watching people on the floor as they mingled, maskless (an odd sight for November of 2021) with drinks in hand.

Right before the show started, “Hard Drive” by Cassandra Jenkins began to play over the speakers. She had performed at the festival the night before, and I’d discovered her just a month prior via that song. It is true poetry, and Pitchfork says it much better than I can in their review:

“As Jenkins figures things out, her band—featuring Stuart Bogie on saxophone, Eric Biondo on drums, and Josh Kaufman on guitar, keys, and fretless bass—settles into a glassy, sophisti-pop groove that glides like a slow journey uphill.”

It’s hard to explain, but I’ve found that certain songs have the power illuminate parts of my mind, even if I’ve listened to them a million times before. Sometimes, they come to me at just the right time, allowing for some sort of realization or epiphany. This evening, that happened twice: the first was during this song, which I could just barely make out over clinking glasses and muffled, incomprehensible words coming from my neighbors.

But still, I felt it in all its glory, like I’d finally made it up that “slow journey uphill” myself. Sitting there, in the middle of a random theater in Paris, I sunk into my seat and closed my eyes briefly. I was proud of myself for making it here, and for making this evening happen. I clung tight to the moment, trying extra hard to store it inside my own personal hard drive.

The show itself was merveilleux. It was also the first indoor concert I’d attended since 2019. The lighting was simple but super cool and colorful, much like Tellier himself. And I’ll never forget is his stage presence: he is the first performer I’ve ever seen smoke a cigarette during multiple numbers. His slow, near-stumbling movements were quite entertaining to watch over a loud, eccentric, synthpop adventure.

Then, when the show began to wind down, I knew what was coming: “La ritournelle.” It’s his most popular song, but it’s my favorite of his, and it’s also one of my favorite songs ever. I love everything about it, even down to the name: la ritournelle is such a beautiful word (in Italian, it’s ritornello, which fittingly rhymes with bello).

Like “Hard Drive,” I’d listened to it a million times before, but I think seeing it live will live in my “Best Concert Memories of All Time” mental list forever. It is a song that transports me every time I listen to it. It’s an escape from reality, only this time, I realized that it was the soundtrack to my reality. I was living “La ritournelle”: I could hear every breath and beat and note that existed and danced around me for a whole seven-and-a-half minutes. It was magic, and I hope I never forget it.

I left right after the show ended and decided to Uber back to the hostel, since it was late and I didn’t feel like being on the metro for another half-hour. As I sat in the back of the car, I remember feeling very small watching the city fly by. It was a good kind of small, though; it was one that reminded me of all the other magic moments I had yet to experience.

Stay tuned for the next few parts of this series, where I’ll share more photos and stories from the rest of my trip!

What The Smiths Mean To Me

The Smiths were my first favorite band. They changed my life, my mind, and my relationship with music. Here’s why:

PSA: Before starting this post, I would like to disregard Morrissey’s current state of being for just a few minutes and let you know that this post is solely regarding the music and effect of The Smiths as a collective band.

The first time I remember hearing The Smiths was at the end of middle school. There Is A Light That Never Goes Out was on my Discover Weekly playlist on Spotify. I remember thinking, that’s an interesting voice and being intrigued by the lyrics I can now only describe as sparkling. “To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.” I had never heard anything like it in a song. Morrissey’s lyrics sparkle, and I thought that from the moment I first heard them.

At that point in my life, I loved music but wasn’t much of a deep thinker. I listened to music solely for its sound, as background noise while I worked on homework (which, don’t get me wrong, I still do). Music often went in one ear and out the other, literally. I never questioned or examined lyrics. I never focused on what made the song great, or what cultural impact it had made.

This isn’t to say that those are the only reasons to listen to music. It’s not. But I realize now that these are some of the main reasons I love listening to music: because it is both a therapeutic and an intellectual experience. It can be enjoyed with or without deep thought, and both scenarios are equally magical.

Jeeeeez. Why’d he have to grow up to become an asshole?

I don’t think I had ever been truly taken away by a song until I heard The Smiths. When I discovered them, however, many of Morrissey’s lyrics meant nothing to me. I still thought boys were gross; the closest I’d gotten to romance was being asked to a 7th grade dance while grabbing my lunchbox from my locker (and I didn’t even say yes).

Over the years, his lyrics have grown more and more relevant as I experience and go through new things (e.g.: Sixteen, clumsy, and shy). But regardless of their relevance to my personal life, I have found Morrissey’s words so meaningful because, well… they actually mean something.

Listening to The Smiths was like a rite of passage into maturity for me. Once I began listening to them, my childhood began to end, not so much because of lyrical content, but because of the way they were written. These songs were saying so much more than those that took over the top charts. They were poems disguised as songs, flooded with imagery and rhyme and anecdote. I had never heard anything like it.

Of course, there have been so many other things that have helped shape my mind and thinking, but once I began to listen to The Smiths, I really began thinking for myself. I began rethinking ideas and asking more questions. I became curious and interested and more willing to learn because I finally realized that everything — from song lyrics, to color choices in film, to syntax throughout a novel — can be analyzed and questioned.

And, of course, The Smiths opened my eyes (no pun intended) and led me to some of my favorite music which, in turn, has led me to even more. I’ve been given a great dose of music history from both of my parents, but after this discovery, I felt a huge deal of freedom to explore on my own, thus leading to many other wonderful discoveries (many of which are, frankly, far better and more compelling than The Smiths).

The Smiths.jpg

I’d even say they were the group that (unintentionally) taught me how to listen to music, because it wasn’t just lyrics that captivated me: it was the sound that played alongside them. Hearing the haunting final riffs during the last 30 seconds of Well I Wonder and Pretty Girls Make Graves is like a religious experience every time I listen to them (thanks, Johnny Marr❤️). Or the strange, back-and-forth guitar that opens How Soon As Now and repeatedly creeps up on you throughout…so good. (By the way, check out this fantastic video on that song if you want to learn about some of the influence and history behind it.)

The Smiths are no perfect band. Some of Morrissey’s lyrics are questionable, and there are certainly a few songs by them that I don’t care for. But what was so profound and important about my discovery was that it was something new. This alternative, jangly, sometimes-upbeat-and-sometimes-depressing music was something I’d never heard before. It made me think, if I’ve gone my whole life without hearing this…what other music am I missing out on? And I’ve never looked back since.

I realize there’s lots of very specific connotation surrounding The Smiths. From the few films I’ve seen in which they are the protagonist’s favorite band (e.g. Perks of Being a Wallflower and 500 Days of Summer), they are often a very troubled character. They’re lonely, traumatized, a hopeless romantic, or all three combined.

Perhaps my love for The Smiths means that I, too, am lonely, traumatized, and a hopeless romantic. But I’d also like to think that I’m a critical thinker, a person that asks questions, and a person who is interested in learning more about the world and the people around me. And I can thank my discovery of Morrissey and The Smiths for much of that.

Now, for your daily dose of deep lyrics, I present to you:

Some Of My Favorite Morrissey Lyrics

Take me out tonight
Where there’s music and there’s people
Who are young and alive — There Is A Light That Never Goes Out (I’m sure we can all relate to this one right about now.)

No it’s not like any other love
This one’s different
Because it’s us — Hand In Glove

They were born
And then they lived and then they died
Seems so unfair
I want to cry — Cemetry Gates

Under the iron bridge we kissed
and although I ended up with sore lips
it just wasn’t like
the old days anymore — Still Ill

The rain falls hard on a humdrum town
this town has dragged you down — William, It Was Really Nothing

and, finally, my #1 favorite:

In my life
Why do I smile
At people who I’d much rather kick in the eye — Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now

And now:

My Top Ten Smiths Songs

They’re in order, but I do change my mind all the time. Enjoy.

As for why I wrote this post: I was struck by inspiration to write this which hasn’t happened all that much lately, so I decided to take advantage of it. I never feel qualified to talk about music and always get nervous to share my opinion because of my lack of formal music training and music theory knowledge. But I am slowly learning more and gaining a greater musical perspective, and since I have a lot of experience listening to The Smiths, I felt confident enough to write this post.

I really liked writing it, and I’m actually somewhat proud of it, so maybe this’ll be the start of a new blog series in which I discuss some of my other favorite music. Or not. Sometimes I get lazy, as you know. 😉 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Happy Wednesday!

high school during a pandemic: day two

Music. It’s the only thing getting me through this all. Imagine if quarantine meant that we had to sit in silence and do nothing! I think I’d go even crazier than I already have.

So before I tell you about my day today, here’s a playlist that I made called Songs To Get You Through Quarantine. There’s no specific genre, but they’re all upbeat and/or calming songs I’ve been listening to a lot over the past few days. I’ll be adding new ones daily, so feel free to follow it if you want 🙂 I thought that I could post some sort of media, whether it be a movie, playlist, video, article, book, etc. each day in case you are in need of entertainment, so here ya go:

Anyway, last Friday was day one of distance learning. If you read my last post, you know that it was really hard and frustrating and sad for me. Today was day two, and while it still very much sucks, it was definitely a bit better.

I woke up at around 9:20, took a shower, and just made it to class for 10. (Somehow, even when school starts three hours later than usual, I manage to juuuuust make it!) Italian went really well, mainly because of how organized my teacher is. While it was still a little weird having to turn my microphone on to answer a question, I was able to focus much more than I did on Friday.

After that, I had ceramics. My teacher was back, but he hadn’t learned how to use the online program, so it was super glitchy. Nevertheless, many of us were able to speak to each other and talk about the plan for the upcoming week(s). Obviously, it’s pretty hard to do ceramics without clay, so a lot of the projects will be sketching and drawing things that we would make, which sucks for me because I can’t draw. But I’ll try to make the best of it, just like with everything else.

After “lunch” (which consisted of an everything bagel and Thin Mints), I had piano. My teacher switched platforms to Microsoft Teams, so we were all able to see each other and it ran a lot more smoothly. Of course, it’s not the same as seeing everyone in person, but it still made me happy. We were assigned songs to play from our piano book, so our homework until next Monday is to practice them and post a video of ourselves playing them to get checked off.

The classes are shorter than usual, but even so, they go by so much faster than they normally do. I think it’s because we don’t really have time to work on stuff like we normally would; if we did, it’d just be us sitting in silence over a video call. But that also means that there’s a lot more work to do outside of “class,” which, frankly, I am not used to at all this semester as so much of the work happens within the classroom. It keeps me busy, though, so that’s good.

After classes ended, I didn’t know where to start. I had a ton of work to do for each of my classes, and it all seemed super overwhelming. So I kinda went crazy for about an hour. I worried and stressed and procrastinated and thought of the worst-case scenario about all of this rather than doing any work.

I sat on my bed and stared out my window for a good five minutes as if I were a prisoner desperately longing for fresh air.

(Which I am not!)

So I went outside and went for a run, hoping that some fresh air may give me some motivation. I listened to The Beatles and ended up doing two miles which is more than I have walked since last week. It was tiring, and I wanted to give up and start walking probably 27 times. But I did it, and it felt pretty good.

After I got home, I began doing my school work whilst listening to The Flaming Lips. I just finished everything, including drawing three textures for ceramics and writing a *very rough* essay for Italian, and now I’m writing this. In about an hour I will bake my sourdough bread that has been proofing all day, and while I wait for it to bake, I will begin knitting my second sock.

While I’d much rather be in school, I am slowly getting used to this and am becoming a little more accepting of the fact that this may be my reality for a while. I’m doing my best to try and stay busy at home. There are lots and lots of negatives regarding this horrible situation, and they cross my mind every ten minutes. But I intend to keep busy, doing things that make me happy, even in a not-so-happy world.

See you tomorrow!

songs for cold weather

Last week, it snowed for about ten minutes while I was at school. Well, actually, I’m not sure if I’d even call it snow because nothing stuck to the ground. But still, there were snowflakes coming from the sky which is enough for me to burst with excitement.

Sadly, it hasn’t snowed since then. Now, I’m waiting patiently for the first real snowstorm to happen. Snow is the one thing that makes the freezing weather bearable, so I’m anxiously waiting for it to happen again.

If you are feeling the same and are craving a good snow day, I’ve created a mix of songs that will, perhaps, make the pre-snow distress a little more tolerable. They’re some of my favorites — both old and new — and they just remind me of winter: bare trees, cloudy skies, space heaters, frozen fingers, etc., etc. Whatever they remind you of, I hope they at least help tide you over until the snow arrives…

The first song, Wild Time by Weyes Blood is currently one of my most-listened-to songs on Spotify. Her album Titanic Rising is my favorite album of 2019. It came out in the spring, but I just discovered it about a month or two ago. It’s such a gorgeous mix of songs sung by Natalie Mering who has, what I like to call, a maple syrup voice (other artists in this made-up category include Neko Case, Linda Ronstadt, & Solange). And don’t ask me the criteria of the maple syrup voice because I don’t even know it myself. I guess their voices just remind me of maple syrup, but they’re smoother and a little less sticky than honey, ya know?

It was hard to pick which Elliott Smith song to include on this playlist, simply because every single one of his songs reminds me of wintertime. Because I couldn’t decide, I went with his very sweet cover of Thirteen by Big Star since the album cover has a wintry look to it.

Warm Honey by Willow Smith is wonderful. My friend Isa introduced me to her music while in Italy, and I’ve slowly become a big fan of her work. Her new album is crazy good, and she’s just an all-around lovely person. And super underrated, too! I didn’t know she made music until this summer, but her first album came out in 2015 which is crazy. Rediscovering new music always makes me feel like I live in a bubble.

These Days by Nico (well, sung by Nico) is the epitome of melancholy/wintry/cold weather tunes, in my opinion. I never tire of that song. And it always reminds me of this scene in The Royal Tenenbaums.

Oh, and I just had to include a song by The Cranberries. I have a hard time picking all-time favorite things, but if I had to pick a favorite band I’d probably say The Cranberries. I began listening to them during my freshman year of high school and listened to their second album, No Need to Argue, obsessively throughout the year. I have a vivid memory of staring out the window on the bus ride home with earbuds, listening to Everything I Said. Ah, freshman year me — so melodramatic. (But I still love that song and enjoy the occasional pretend-you’re-in-a-music-video moment.)

Anyway, when Dolores died last year, I was instantly brought back to their music and have been slowly going through each album. Also, I’ve watched their NPR Tiny Desk Concert probably 10 times. It’s that good. Her voice is insane and has made me cry on multiple occasions, which is not an easy feat.

Well, that’s about all the commentary I have for tonight. What are your favorite cold-weather tunes/artists?

what brings you GLEE?

It’s 9:30 on Sunday evening as I write this. I’m sitting in my bed, a pile of used tissues and a slice of chocolate cake accompanying me.

No, I’m not sick or PMS-ing. I just finished the last episode of Glee and am going through a bit of post-television show stress disorder.

This show has been a part of my life since my middle school days; while it’s nothing new to me, it tugs on my emotions every time I watch it, and it’s as if my dramatic, sixth grade, musical theater-obsessed self never left. (Don’t worry – it’s still very much a part of me, it’s just not as intense.)

Since the show ended, I’ve watched the occasional episode or two for nostalgic purposes. Even though I have seen all the episodes, I had never watched the show from start to finish, so a few months ago, I decided to do just that.

A few of my friends joined in with me. We would chat about what episode we were on at school, laughing at the frequent plot holes, ranting about characters we despised, and bonding over our favorite covers. In a world with so much negativity, Glee was — and still is — one of the many things that make me forget about it all.

This is so cheesy, and my future self is most definitely going to disown me for saying this, but:

For me, Glee is the perfect symbol for life: it’s totally weird, it really stinks sometimes, and it’s completely imperfect; that’s what makes it so great!

Glee clearly has a plethora of issues, but somehow the characters, the storylines, and the music belittle them all. And, honestly, without the flaws, the show would be boring and not nearly as memorable or fun to discuss.

I want to start looking at my own life with the optimism that I will go through my bad phases, just like Glee did during its six-year run. I know that those phases will only shape me into who I am and will allow me to appreciate the good times even more. The sad times suck, but tomorrow is a new day and a new opportunity to start over.

Maybe this is all a stretch and I’m just a hormonal teen obsessed with a stupid teen musical drama. Even if that’s true, (which it is) I have a feeling that ten years from now, I’ll still cry while watching the last episode, simply because of the impact it’s had on me while growing up.

So today I ask you to think about something that brings you GLEE! What makes you feel so connected or happy that you forget about all the sadness and stress in your life? I hope that thing, whatever or whoever it may be, brings a smile to your face. Have a great week!

PS: If there are any GLEEKS out there, I’d love to chat about the show, so leave a comment!!!!! And no, while I think it’s a brilliant idea, this is not becoming a Glee blog. 😉