DianeB

@Anne Hill Anne, like Doug, I'm not aware of any lesson material in iCloud. See my private message for contacting me, and maybe I can help.

Rick Beato weighs in, with his usual sharp insights:

@matonanjin To everyone: I don't recommend clicking a link from someone who has just joined. Their motives may be innocent but you should be circumspect. @Anubhav Please note, moderators are monitoring this site.

@Fretless Wow, those are some spectacular studios. I must be content with something far more modest, but at least I'm close to the kitchen! The molecule (ahem) on my wall is picene. We now return to our normal schedule of jazz programming.

David Das offers his professional take on the demise of Finale, with a succinct comparison of the options:

@Eracer_Team-DougH Yes, Finale will continue to work unless operating system changes break it. I'm glad I kept the installer, and multiple backups, in case something goes south. That's a practice I learned a long time ago.

The writing was on the wall — or, on the score. Finale has been sunsetted as of yesterday, August 26, 2024. It is no longer for sale and will not be updated. It was a mature product, built upon 35 years of code, with very little that could be added without placing it in a rather different niche, for example, mixing. It is still more than adequate for my occasional needs. I have little desire to climb another steep learning curve. Its closest counterpart is probably Avid's Sibelius (Sibelius First is free but can not import files; other options are $99 and $199/yr). I downloaded Dorico (free trial; $149) and MuseScore (free; open source) to see what would happen to an imported Finale file (which must be exported as .mxl). The imported file played back satisfactorily in both Dorico and MuseScore, but Dorico made a hopeless mess of my text annotations and the document format. It uses a different architecture, and the result reminded me of the file format agonies of the 80s. MuseScore's import was much better, although some annotations were altered or misplaced. It's my recommendation for the occasional user; pros will likely stay with Finale until OS changes break it, or go with Sibelius.

@Fretless Coronene on the ceiling?! Absolutely fabulous, says the organic chemist!

Epilog I’m home now. 1,277 miles in all. The afterglow tingles. We traded stories about gear, stage fright, playing outdoors, and wickedly funny ones that can’t be repeated here. I savored late nights in my dorm commiserating with Scott, Miles, and Walter over beer and chips. Janet and I traded self-help tips for leg cramps. I’m going home with pickle juice. Tuesday morning Toby showed up with a whisper for a voice, so hoarse it pained me to listen. He was running on fumes, having taught workshops all the day before, and now with practically no sleep after being up most of the night working on handouts. “The box that I want to play in right now,” he croaked, “is a pharmacy in town with Tylenol and NyQuil.” During the break, I reached in my accessory pouch and handed him the Tylenol I keep for the occasional headache. “For you,” I said. “Regular strength Tylenol. I have more in my room.” His was an expression I’ll not soon forget. Our host Alice Schiller did a commendable job putting it all together for, I think, the 11th or 12th time. But she needs an assistant, or at least a couple of volunteer coordinators. I was not alone in this assessment. The infrastructure at the College of the Atlantic is barely adequate. I wondered aloud with Scott, another academic, how it manages to hold on. “College” is a generous word for a glorified artists’ colony. In conversations, I probably talked up the Guitar Gathering conferences a dozen times. My fellow students, mostly from the northeast, were genuinely curious about our Nashville experiences. Surprises? None, really, in the practical sense. I noticed a couple of personal things. From beginning to end, even though I was new and had never met a soul involved with the camp, I felt unusually calm: it was a sensation both peculiar and comforting. My classmate Debby even commented on it, on how relaxed I looked while on deck to perform. And with that, sometimes I was surprised at what came out of my mouth. In a musical context, that is. You can’t watch Steve for a hour every other Tuesday night for ten years and not have something rub off on you. Feel free to message me with questions. It’s back to the woodshed again, for a new beginning.

A couple of videos from the Friday finale. The doors were open to the outside, visible to the left, as a covid precaution. The room was rather cool and we were dressed accordingly. Well, one of us, anyway. Here's Adam Levy directing some of the gang in “The Weight” (5:09), and right in front of Toby Walker and his girlfriend, off I go (2:53). The Weight.mov Melissa.mov

What a magical week. It’s almost midnight, the rooms are quiet, the music a memory. Now we must pack and be out by 9:00 am tomorrow (Saturday). Our stretch of perfect weather ran out this morning. A steady drizzle forced us to move the workshops indoors, and by lunchtime we faced a thunderstorm and torrential downpour that turned the gravel pathways into rivers. Anyone without all-weather boots, like me, arrived for lunch with soaking wet feet. The rain tapered off into cool, breezy mist for the rest of the day and night. For me it was back to Toby Walker in the morning for more blues and a group rehearsal of our project, “Your Cheating Heart”. Adam Levy had to leave early, so in the afternoon we students split into two groups to work with Denise Adorante and Toby. Maybe fatigue had set in, or people wanted the time to rehearse for tonight’s show, but my group with Toby was only four people. So we each played a song for him and got a personal critique for improvement — along with some hilarious stories from his days on the road. Terrific stuff. After dinner, it was showtime once again in that splendid, aging admin building. The student group performances were led by their respective instructors. Next came about 15 individual or duet performances for an audience of about 40. I believe every one of us, all 24, performed at some point. I landed in the fourth spot. “Why not?” I said to myself this morning as host Alice brought around the sign up sheet. A half dozen classmates, and instructor Denise, had already asked me what I was going to play tonight. I think they were curious about the newcomer. I took my seat, looked around at all those smiling, expectant faces, my teachers in the front row, and gave them my best take on Gregg Allman’s “Melissa”. It was three sweet minutes, at least from where I sat. When I post the video, you can decide for yourself. It was as friendly and appreciative a room as one could hope for. Tons of talent. Denise’s newbies overcame their nerves and delivered. Afterwards, it was laughter and handshakes and hugs all around. I said my goodbyes and stepped out into the dark, windy Maine night to return to my dorm; one more solo walk over the little bridge across the stream that feeds the bay. As I got to the door, a flashlight beam approached. It was Toby Walker and his girlfriend. He stopped to say goodbye. His smile said it all. I glowed. There is, indeed, magic in this world. I remember that phrase from the childhood days, too, " Just wait and see. " I remember those words and how they chided me When patient was the hardest thing to be — 10,000 Maniacs, “How You’ve Grown”

Day 4. Lessons today built upon what we’ve been working on. Each morning I’ve sat at the elbow of Toby Walker with my classmates as we match him note for note on blues phrases. We don’t move on until all eight of us have it, or have given it our best. No slackers here. That’s been followed by practice for a group performance project that’s due tomorrow night. I’ll be one of those carrying the melody, because it would take me another week to get the final 20% of the double stops. So I finally reached my limit there. And this afternoon with Adam Levy I was out of my depth in playing the jazz chords he used in our arranging lesson. I can spell them, I can discern their function, but no way can I play along on “Moonlight in Vermont”. Not a problem, though, the lesson was about building around the melody. This would be a good place to stress that we have players across the spectrum of skill. If you can play three chords, you would be fine. Really. I seem to have gravitated to the more advanced cohort, but there’s another half or even two thirds of us that are in more fundamental workshops: how to be comfortable in a jam, basic blues structure, right hand technique, and beginner “band lab”. I’ve met several people who had never played with, or for, anyone else, ever. This was their first time. They are excited and want more. After dinner, a dozen of us took an optional side trip into Acadia to see the sunset from atop Cadillac Mountain. It took me 41 years, but I made it back, and the view was gorgeous. We returned in time for a class performance and jam by some of the camp vets. My new friend Debby, who performed, offered me her guitar to take a turn, but I had to decline; the mountain visit wore me out. Photos and video will come later, maybe in a few days; our internet is slow and spotty at best. When I arrived, I was uncertain if I would feel comfortable; I was a newcomer. My misgivings were utterly misplaced. I have visited with everyone now, and to a person they have made me feel not only welcome, but appreciated. I made fast friends with Alice, our host, all three instructors, and I think everyone else. We have worked, and shared, and gabbed, and wisecracked. We make music. We share a common love. If you’re reading this, you know the rest.

Just another day in guitar heaven: cool sea breeze, sunshine, companionship, new challenges, and encouragement. Already we’re bemoaning how quickly it’s going by, but we’re drinking it in while we can. With the loss of one instructor to covid — who is safely on his way home as I write — the students have sorted themselves roughly into two groups for the workshops. Lessons today were a continuation of yesterday. So I can’t report personally on Denise’s classes on right hand technique and basic jamming. Toby Walker is working right at the edge of my ability and that of several of my classmates, which is exactly where you want to be. He was so hoarse today he could barely speak, but he could demonstrate a handful of notes, have us play them back until we got it, then add more to the part. In the afternoon, Adam Levy led my group in listening to songs as an arranger would: identifying the structure, locating the musical parts, and asking what could be added or subtracted to make it better. The idea is to learn how to better use your guitar to support a song. An elective hour was devoted to fills and frills; most of which time we concentrated on triads. During a break, I greeted a custodian — a guitar player, and veteran of open mics, no less — who marveled at the music coming from outside on the porch. “That’s Toby Walker,” I explained. After lunch I wandered through the modest campus library: stacks of unbound copies of Scientific American from the sixties and a chance encounter with a basic book on probability took me back to days in my high school library. Almost no one was around, so I visited with a young woman on the staff to learn more about the college. In return, I filled her in on life in the sixties. Tonight was faculty concert night. We set up in the common room of one of the old administrative buildings. What a setting, with the ornate woodwork, ceilings, and appointments. Denise, Adam, and Toby were terrific and I had a front row seat. Tomorrow I’ll share a bit about how I’ve experienced it all. For now, let’s just say, I feel really good.

It’s only Tuesday, and I’m logging serious flight hours. We’ve found our lesson “tracks” and today everyone picked up where their instructors left off yesterday. They really know how to teach: small bites, repetition, looping, feedback, encouragement, gentle correction, it’s all there. Last night’s rain arrived at bedtime (yes!) and we awoke to cool, crisp air and broke out the sweatshirts. I had about three hours in the morning with Toby Walker once more as we waded deeper into the blues pool. We have three hours for lunch and free time. From 3:00–5:30, I’m camping out with Adam Levy on the art of arranging. Today’s arranging class turned into one on composition. As he explained ways to introduce variations (shift to relative minor, or parallel minor, or inversions, or—) “You can use a secondary dominant. Anybody know what’s a secondary dominant?” One hand went up, in the back. “It’s the dominant of a dominant,” I offered. Nine heads turned in my direction. “Check out ‘Peg’, by Steely Dan,” I ventured. May as well go all in. “There’s a quintary dominant: F#, B, E, A, and D in a row.” Eight faces looked at me like I just beamed down from a spaceship. Adam nodded and grinned. After dinner, I could have collapsed in my room and slept until September, but no, tonight was coffeehouse night. Show time. Back to the dining hall and my turn up front. I was next to last of fourteen (yeah, 13th) and these people can play. Anyway, I took a swing at “Good Time Charley’s Got the Blues”, whiffed on the solo, but acquitted myself well enough. It was a great room to play for, but by 9:30, I was fried. I didn’t even have a chance to grab a photo in a workshop today. Time for some shuteye.

Today was quite the workout — guitar and physical — after three days of travel, but I’m hanging in. My day started with Toby Walker and a workshop on basic blues soloing. Ten of us sat on a big back porch overlooking the water, playing our call-and-response bits as seagulls and ospreys circled overhead in the cool ocean breeze. What a terrific setting. Afterwards I moved to another porch just as instructor Denise Adorante was beginning her class. I took a seat at the end of the row of five of my classmates as I overheard her and a student deciding on a song. I heard “Harvest Moon,” and thought “oh, wow.” I cranked down my E string. Denise demonstrated the opening riff, but no one quite had it. (I was the only one in drop D, too.) She counted us in, I hit that open D and the riff. Six heads turned in my direction. Denise gave me a big smile. Things were off to a good start. Lunch, some free time, and then I spent the afternoon with our third instructor, Adam Levy, with a lesson on arranging, and another on basic chord melody. After dinner, most of us picked one of two jam groups for the evening. I attended the one led by Denise, as my opening gambit was to give each instructor equal time. We played about 20 Beatles tunes on an even bigger back porch overlooking the water. As the Maine night enveloped us and I squinted at the charts, I grumbled to myself, “I can’t believe I left the music stand and my lamp back in my room.” Now I know. We are playing and eating outdoors because it’s cooler with the breeze (no AC here), and partly because a fourth instructor came down with covid over the weekend and was just not up to teaching. Alice is trying to keep us safe. She had to shuffle the schedule just as we started, and I know the blues guys are disappointed to lose Mike Dowling, but Toby has serious blues chops and enough to go around. It just makes for slightly larger classes. We’re off and running.

Mmmmm……sssssss……..bzzzzzt…….copy, Nashville? …..sssss….. Do you copy, Nashville? Diane coming to you on Atlantic Maritime frequency 440 Hz … No, wait, that’s something else. Reporting from Bar Harbor station tonight. Do you read? Ah, I read you five by five. I’m on the College of the Atlantic wi-fi. Connection is spotty, but here’s my first report. I arrived today (Sunday) in Bar Harbor, Maine, to bring you the scoop on the Guitar Intensives camp. Happy to report that the lobster rolls and blueberry ice cream in town are just as terrific as when I was here in 1983 to explore Acadia. Not to worry, with all the walking I’m doing, those calories will soon be gone. The chipmunks are still here. No moose sighted, yet. We have been introducing ourselves and settling into our rooms. Our hostess is Alice Schiller, who has been producing this for several years. There are about 25 attendees, a good mix of veterans and newbies like me. As one would expect, the demographic is almost all northeastern: NY, Connecticut, New Hampshire, and two from Mt. Desert island itself. A fellow from Maryland is the only one I’ve met from farther south than me. I showed up early and quickly recognized one of our instructors, Adam Levy. I’ve been looking forward to meeting him after reading his book. We had a delightful visit; he took note of my well-worn fingertips: “Badges of honor!” he declared. After dinner al fresco at the college dining hall, we met for orientation. We have a full five days ahead, and I will get my exercise: we’re spread over four small dormitories and classrooms in three separate buildings. We’re right on the coastline, but it’s hilly and the paths are tricky. Nothing appears to be ADA compliant. If it rains, it will be, um, interesting. Breakfast is 7:30 (!) so I’ll have to sign off. Pictures to follow if the wi-fi cooperates. Tomorrow’s Monday, and it’s off to the workshops.

I know, Six, it’s so quiet. See my reply to Abe yesterday. There was no Gathering this summer, so we’re missing that, too. But you might be hearing from me a bit next week, hint, hint.

Hello, @Abe, and welcome to our forum. I saw your post in the new members section. Take some time to explore. Some background: the Guitar Gathering discussion board has existed as you see it for six and a half years. For about six years prior, going back to around 2012, it was operated as an adjunct to the Legacy Systems Learn and Master Guitar DVD Course which Steve Krenz created. Legacy also produced courses in piano, drums, and photography, but none of their online forums were as active as the one for guitar. DVDs were still popular at that time, and many of the early Learn and Master students, like myself, brought our questions and were rewarded with good advice and a delightful sense of community. By 2017, changes started taking their toll. Physical media plummeted in popularity as streaming took off. With DVD sales dropping, Legacy did not produce more courses. Steve's guitar course was a work for hire, so he did not own the rights to reuse the video and repurpose it for streaming. He needed to find his own niche. With no new students to keep it fresh, and no IT support from Legacy, the discussion board lost its vitality. Trolls and spammers started to infect it. But in its decline, hope emerged when one of our members proposed a weekend in Nashville just to meet, play together, and see the town. Steve noticed. He hurriedly arranged a meeting place, assembled some plans, and his annual conference — which had lost its sponsor, Gibson — was revived in 2015. There were 18 of us. The next year, about 70. Steve found a new service provider for a discussion board, and we migrated as much old content here as we could. He branded his new enterprise as Guitar Gathering. The annual summer conferences in Nashville have continued until this year, when Steve took a break to contemplate a new venue. He also produces the Fall Fingerstyle Retreats (this year's is sold out). As you may have noticed, he also streams a live lesson about every other Tuesday night, depending on his schedule. He's a busy guy, but the discussion board and the Tuesday night lessons are free. We're here to learn, share, and support one another. Participation on the forum has cooled somewhat since the first two years. There are multiple reasons, I think: the original cohort found what it needed and has largely moved on. Very few people these days seem inclined to take the time to construct complete sentences (like yours and mine), preferring instead to communicate in emojis, text-speak, and videos. That's where we are now. So, welcome again, from an old school, old timer. Make yourself at home!