Follow the Yellow Brick Road Part 2

"How do you pick the songs?" 

That's such a great question from another Portraits of White fan. In order to answer that, you need to know about a pivotal point in my music journey in 2004, long before Portraits of White existed.

I'm sitting in Franklin, Tennessee at The Factory. It's my first time in Nashville and I'm eager to learn. I'm here because my record producer [Keith] moved from Pennsylvania to Nashville so he could help music artists. In fact, the night before he and his family packed up the U-haul and hit the road, we finished recording my vocals. Not only did their belongings move to Nashville, I felt like my music career had just moved with them, leaving me behind. I was sure my recording days were over. After all, with the talent that swarms Nashville, why would he want to work with me ever again?

Keith had been such a blessing in my life as the producer of I Still Believe (my 3rd album). He had a passion to find more ways to help the music artists he was working with, so he relocated to Music City. Within six months of moving to Tennessee, he put together an amazing conference of speakers and resources for musicians. Now, here I am at the conference, in the front row, note pad ready. My cup is turned upward, waiting to be filled.

All kinds of speakers, producers, publicists, songwriters, coaches, etc., are there, filling us with incredible inspiration, wisdom and resources. This is the conference where I will meet my future producer, Eric Copeland, as well as find a manager. It's a pivotal point in my music journey. I can feel it. The water is stirring.

Eric Copeland discussing Brand New Me photo shoot.

It is through these connections that I will eventually meet Ed Kee, the original conductor of Portraits of White, who will help me launch my big dream. Of course, I don't know that yet.

Ed Kee, Conductor 2014-2018
Tom Jackson, Live Music Producer
Portraits of White 2015

But of all the amazing information I take in at the conference, the most significant life-changing moment happens when Tom Jackson, Live Music Producer, steps out on the stage. 

"Your audience doesn't come to just hear you sing or play, they come to experience moments", he says. 

He has my full attention.

"There are three reasons people go to concerts", he continues.

• To be captured and engaged. 
• To experience moments. 
• To be changed.

Please tell me more, Tom.

I can't decide whether to take notes or just sit and absorb. Everything he is saying is resonating with me like nothing else I'd ever heard. In all my years of various music lessons on multiple instruments, no one has talked about this angle of performing—at least not that I recall. I sit on the edge of my seat as Tom takes us deeper. 

"Songs create moments. When you create many different moments in your night, people will come back to your merch table and ask for a song by its name or by something they remember about the song. But what they are really asking is... "Where is that song that made me cry? Where is the song that made me laugh? Where is the song that gave me chills?" In other words, "Where is the song that made me feel that way...because I want to feel that way again." —Tom Jackson, Live Music Method

I have experienced this many times at my table after a concert. A perfect example is my song, Never by Accident. After I tell the story and play the song, inevitably someone will come up to me and ask, "Where's the accident song?" I smile and point the way to the CD, or iTunes. It doesn't matter that they can't remember the exact title. They just know that they want THAT song. They felt something while they were listening and they want to take the feeling home with them.

I love hearing people's homemade titles of my songs—it's like they give me a gift; their own interpretation of the song.

One of the greatest compliments I've ever received came on a survey I sent out after Portraits of White one year. "I laughed, I cried, I sang and I left wanting more."

Mingling with fans after Portraits of White 2015

My yellow brick road is paved with songs. Each song is a brick on the journey to the Emerald City. Each song creates some kind of moments. And with those moments in mind, that's how I choose the songs. I look for different moments. I try to make sure the concert road contains all of the elements needed to pave the way for a great show. That's my yellow brick road.

Speaking of roads...it seems appropriate to end this post with a journal entry I wrote on my trip home from the Nashville conference in 2004.

"I'm on the plane heading home after the CIA Summit (Christian Independant Artists). I don't even know where to begin. This weekend was another "God thing." A pivotal point in my life. When will I ever learn that when God seems to bring a season to an end, it only means that down the road something better will come along and you'll look back at what you left behind (and though you're thankful for what you had) you realize that letting go was the absolute best thing! Everything builds on everything else. It all counts, but if you cling to the present season and resist letting go, you'll miss out on bigger opportunities. 

Just when it felt like I got cut off from my only chance at getting out of Newville, all heaven has broken loose for me. I met SO many great people this weekend.  Producers, evaluators, speakers and other artists who are doing what I do. I know I have a great problem—not how will I ever find anyone else to work with, but which great one should I pursue? 

I learned so much about loving your audience, getting bookings, performing with more passion, giving more to others and finding joy and fulfillment in what I'm doing.

I can feel things stirring in my spirit. I know good things are ahead. I also know that I've needed tools to help me take things to the next level." — Frances Drost, March 7, 2004 Journal

This week's video.

Making it Personal!

"I love Christmas! It's my favorite time of the year." 

I was sitting in the audience watching my favorite music artist when he said this from stage. I've been a life-time fan of his music and I still AM! But a shadow cast itself over me in that moment. Disconnect. 

I personally used to really struggle with Christmas. In fact, as a young woman, I used to dread it. If you've been reading my blog, you probably know that it took me years to figure out why. 

I sat in my seat processing my reaction to his statement. I was sorry to not have grown up sharing this artist's sentiment. It somehow detached me from him. Fortunately, before I let myself feel too sad and isolated, his next statement rescued me from my thoughts that were about to get overly analytical. 

"But I know that not everyone feels that way."  

Whew....I was relieved. 

"Perhaps you feel like you need a miracle tonight." He touched the piano keys and started to sing—a beautiful song about miracles. It was just the song for the moment. I felt hope. I started to reconnect with him. He had won my heart. 

He didn't apologize for his love for Christmas, yet he took a moment to acknowledge that others might not share his view. He created a "moment" for me that I'll never forget. And that's the kind of moments that I love about concerts. That's what makes a concert feel unique to me.

So when a fan of my own Christmas show asked, "How do you make the show personal? What is your thought process?" I had to first think about shows I've attended that have felt "personal" to me. What were the elements that made it feel that way? 

After making some notes in my journal, I realized that the connecting elements always took me beyond the music. There was always a sense of getting to know the artist. I don't want to just hear their music. I want my soul to connect with their soul.

I don't know the "thought process" of other musicians and how they create their shows, but here's how I approach mine....

Since I personally create the Portraits of White show from a blank canvas every year, that in itself makes it a very personal show. Like building a house, I lay the foundation, choose the songs, the players, the moments and then I create lots of blueprints for how each piece of the show will look. 

Once those plans are firmly in place, I can start practicing the show musically and creatively. I look for places to insert my own personality into the show, just like you'd choose your own paint colors and furniture for a house you designed.

Every great show includes moments that fit into various categories: intro, musical, fun, message, different, GREAT music, pin-drop, closing, etc....you get the idea. I try to make sure I've chosen music that prescribes moments just by the nature of the song itself. From there, I let creativity flow.

As I plan the show, I also allow for spontaneity—which means I take what happens in the moment and go with it. This started mainly because the strangest things would happen to me on stage and instead of getting uptight about it, I would just respond in a quirky kind of way. I found that people respond to my personality best when I am spontaneous. 

Over the years, I've started looking for ways, even in conversation off the stage, to be fun and engaging. It's good practice for when I'm on stage. I also love to find ways to interact with the other players on stage, bringing their personality into the show. This guarantees that even if you attended all of the shows in one weekend, you'd get a different experience every time!

My favorite concerts have been the ones where I felt like I got to know the artist—not just musically, but personally. I've been to shows where the music production was incredible, but I never got a glimpse into WHO the artist really is. 

I want my show to be more of a unique experience so I choose music that moves me and then I make it my own and insert my own personality into it. I also look for places to make the stories and songs more personal and real to those who are listening. I want people to enjoy a professionally produced show yet feel as if they've had coffee with me in my living room. 

As Tom Jackson says in his book, Live Music Method, "I [the audience] want to be led by someone who is confident, in control and is taking me somewhere interesting. I want them to have a charisma and a compelling attractiveness that inspires." 

I want to be that kind of performer.

This week's video.