The Snow Queen

A Conversation with Michael Smith

Artistic Intern Lavina Jadhwani chatted with Smith about his inspiration for The Snow Queen

Victory Gardens newsletter, November 2006

LJ: How do you approach your work? Where do you find your inspiration?

MS: I think it depends on what I’m doing. One of the nice things about being a musician is that there are a lot of ways to approach making something up or constructing something – you can look at it from a word point of view, you can look at it from a melody point of view, or a feeling point of view (and by feeling I mean some other song that you really like that you want to imitate in some way).

For me, most of the work I do is sort of based on moods that I’ve heard from other songs. I don’t ever attempt to be original, it’s more like I’m imitating what I’ve heard before because what I’ve heard before is always kind of educational – the construction of other people’s songs, the construction of other people’s music.

You encounter, in the music world, so many people who have thought about it for so much longer than you have on the one hand, and, on the other, they may just have been born with a talent that’s extremely prodigious right away. When you hear music from that kind of person, it’s a lesson. So, for me, it’s really imitating other people, and what that means for me is that part of the things I imitate are their ways of working.

LJ: What is your process when you compose?

MS: I’ve discovered over the years that one way I can write a song that’s kind of interesting is to simply sit down and play the guitar for a little bit and record it. And then listen to it over and over and over and, after a while, I’ll get a feeling – ‘oh, this sounds like a certain kind of song’, or ‘it sounds like a certain kind of mood’, and then I can construct words to that kind of mood. Sometimes someone will give me words or I’ll have words for some reason and I’ll think about those and they’ll suggest a mood. Sometimes I don’t know what’s going to happen and I just go to work.

And particularly, in the last 10 years or so, I’ve been focusing a lot more on recording than I ever have before. I never used to think of recording as something a musician had to put his mind to. It was more like you made the music and other people came and recorded it. And that really is a primitive and naïve notion, it turns out, as time goes by. I used to think the same thing about arrangers – if you wrote a song, someone else arranged it… and that actually doesn’t happen. If you construct a song, you pretty much have to present it the way it’s going to sound. And you pretty much have to record it the way it’s going to sound. You can’t wait for somebody to come along and say, ‘oh, I have an idea’, because other people, they’re working on their own songs.

LJ: How many instruments do you play? How do you incorporate them into your recording process?

MS: Really, what it comes down to is, as you get more into the music business – it’s up to you to present the music the way you expect it to sound. And that means learning about recording, learning about playing instruments, to a degree. I started out playing the guitar, and people would say to me, ‘Do you want to play something else?’ and I’d say no. I was not curious about other instruments or other ways of looking at things, and now one of the last things that I’d say is that I’m not curious. I really do follow where my heart goes and I attempt to play other instruments.

Now I’ve gotten to the point where I can render something on those instruments – I learned how to play the bass because I wanted to record [it] and I learned how to use the drum machine because it’s too much trouble to hire a drummer and tell him what to play or see what he comes up with. Everything’s what they call ‘in house’ these days, for me.

And even [for] The Snow Queen, what I did is make tapes of everyone’s parts. And it won’t necessarily wind up that everyone’s going to follow what I laid down on the recordings, but I certainly made it real enough for people so that they can get a feeling, whereas before, I would’ve sat down with a guitar, period. Sung the song, played the guitar. Now I have a drum machine that I use, I do overdubs of harmonies, I use a bass, I use a keyboard, and I play the guitars and I might play a flute or something, or a synthesizer or a mandolin or a twelve string guitar or whatever I can find, maybe very primitive percussion instruments – shakers or tambourines or xylophones. And for me, it’s exciting to be able to make a finished product, which is what I’m after. In fact, what’s interesting to me is the sound of it, rather than the written song, per se. Now it’s more exciting to listen to the recording.

LJ: With languages, they say it’s harder to pick up more skills as you get older – do you find that is the case with musical instruments too?

MS: Yes, and I wish I had understood that when I was a child. I wish I understood that I should’ve paid attention. Adults don’t understand the possibilities of a child. Adults look at a child’s ambition in kind of a cynical [way] or… they don’t give it the credence that they should. I knew at 10 years old that this is what I wanted to do. I wanted to play the guitar and sing songs. I knew that, and it seemed like such a fanciful notion… a young age is when it’s possible to absorb so much information, on the one hand, and you’ve got so much free time, and you’ve got a youthful way… I feel grateful that I started when I did, because I started during the Golden Age of music, which was approximately from 1955 to about 1970. I was 15 to 30 at that age, which, for me, was a wonderful grounding in the years between Elvis and the Beatles. The things that happened along that time were wonderful things… I was lucky to be born when I was. I’m the same age as the Beatles, and so I experienced all the things that they experienced.

LJ: Who were your biggest musical influences?

MS: Elvis, the Kingston Trio, and the Beatles. I would say that all those people still are to some degree. Elvis because [he] was the first time I understood the notion of a performer being mysterious. People don’t do Elvis as mysterious now, he’s kind of a joke. But when he first came out, he was very mysterious… I remember seeing him, I was mesmerized by the way he looked, the way he acted. He was physically beautiful and he was comfortable stylizing himself in an extreme fashion… Elvis was really willing to follow his heart.

And the Beatles because of the extraordinary songwriting. Plus they were willing to do that performing thing – they were hard workers and it was clear that they were hard working right from the start. When they were first on the Ed Sullivan show, they were performing with a slickness and a one-pointed-ness that just seemed like they must’ve rehearsed forever. And they had. They started writing when they were 15 and they’d have long, long periods of intense playing. They were working 8 hours a night. So when they showed up, they were just as slick as can be… what they chose to play in a given song was so thoughtful. They learned how to imitate hit songs – not just the songs or the words, but to learn what the bass player’s doing, learn what the piano player’s doing, and when you learn all those things, you learn what you can do for your own songs. Their construction was just divine, they showed me so much.

LJ: What are you listening to nowadays?

MS: I listen to a lot of stuff. I go everyplace – the last thing I downloaded was ‘Concert for Sitar and Orchestra’ by Ravi Shankar, for instance. I like Crowded House, a band from New Zealand, they have some beautiful songs. I like Katerina Valente, she’s a European phenomenon, and I adore what she does. I like jazz… there really isn’t a kind of music I’d turn off, possibly with the exception of rap.

LJ: You’ve worked on several adaptations of literature before – what drew you to The Snow Queen, in particular?

MS: The Snow Queen was my favorite fairy tale when I was a little kid. I would read it over and over. When I was a kid, the story was very, very long for me and I would periodically forget what happened in the story and I would go back and read it over and over again because it was such an adventure to remember. And I literally didn’t understand the interactions that were going on – it’s an odd little story. I just liked it because it was so long and unpredictable and weird. I loved the ideas behind it. I loved the sense of adventure.

So, maybe 10 years ago, I was working a gig someplace in Colorado and some friends of mine, some theater people, said, ‘We’re going to do a version of The Snow Queen,” and I said, “Oh, I love that story, if I write some songs for it will you use them?” And they said yes, so I dashed off 10 songs that weekend, which is extraordinary for me. They are sort of glimpses of the songs I have now. I never knew if they used them or not, but it was so much fun that I kept working on them and, over a period of time, amassed some songs that I thought were fun. The theater work I’ve done has always been the result of an opportunity.

I’ve been working on The Snow Queen for about 10 years. I’ve gone through many, many versions of some songs – flat out changed the total tune to one song about 5 times. And each time, I’d record it and I’d love it for a few months, and then I’d start to dislike it and I’d make a new one. And that has been exciting – I feel that a lot of the songs are very, very strong because I’ve thought about them for years. They stand the test of time because I’ve kept looking at them.

LJ: Do you usually sit with a piece for this long?

MS: Yes. I would say, often these days, it’s unusual for me to do anything really, really quickly. I’ve had songs I’ve worked on for 2-3 years. And a lot of my artistic life is that artistic discovery. Most of the time, I spend a lot of time on a given piece of material.

LJ: Victory Gardens’ audiences have seen two other productions of yours before. What can they expect from The Snow Queen? How is it different?

MS: This is a lot more light-hearted than anything I’ve been involved with before. I did the best I could to make sure that if Hans saw it, he’d like it. I did not change the story. I just went with Hans and I think I understand this man and I think that he worked from a very deep, unnamed place and came up with this stuff and didn’t even know why himself. And I’m not going to mess with that. I think that he was really in touch with his creative side, to the degree that he became world famous very early. I wouldn’t dare to mess with his stories, so I haven’t. I’ve had to leave things out, simply because it would be a three hour show, but I didn’t take any characters out. I think he’d be happy with it.

LJ: You’ve worked with Frank Galati before…

MS: Frank is extraordinary, he makes you want to please him. That’s his job. You get the feeling that he knows exactly what he wants to do and he knows that what he’s going to do is going to be a good shot. You can trust him. It’s partially that he’s so charming that you want to please him, but it’s also because he’s got his finger on it. You know that if you please him, then people are going to be pleased. When Frank says it’s going to be a lovely show, then you know it’s going to be a lovely show. When Frank was dissatisfied with the music, I was dissatisfied with the music – I had to fix it, it’s good sense. I trust him to see over the horizon when I cannot.

LJ: Tell to me about the use of puppetry in this piece – what’s it been like working with Blair Thomas? Is that something you’d envisioned early on? How did that idea come about?

MS: In truth, I didn’t have any idea of how it would be presented, physically, even though I had constructed all these songs and presented them to Dennis [Zacek]. Frank was the one who introduced the notion of using puppets and using Blair. I had no idea what was possible in the world of puppetry and I still don’t. Blair is a mystery to me – what moves him to do the things he does, the things he conceives, the way he looks at things are very difficult for me to grasp. It’s like talking to a mathematician or a cook, it’s a different world, a different language. Blair is an artist and an artist in a kind of discipline that’s ancient and not particularly U.S.-oriented. His nature reaches out to people who are from a different school.

… Frank truly is the guiding light here for me, and as far as puppets are concerned, I am using puppets because Frank wants them. And I can’t imagine how you’d render it otherwise, I can’t imagine how you’d create this fantasy world simply with human beings. Disney would say it’s a cartoon, Kubrick might attempt to render it realistically, but I can’t imagine how to render it… I thought of it in terms of ‘I’d like to make some songs that work and capture the wonder, the humor, and the mystery of this story’. And I’ve done that as well as I can. This is the biggest thing that’s ever happened to me. This is the theater – it’s much more crucial.

LJ: You have some live performances coming up in the area –do you enjoy continuing to perform live?

MS: I have to, physically, in order to keep up my chops. It’s different to play in your house. As I get older, I find it’s much more physically laborious than it used to be to continue to play music. It’s arm and hand activity that’s very intense and brain activity that’s very intense in the sense of keeping focused. You really have to get out there and do it and it keeps you warmed up if you do it, it keeps you rolling. I don’t like particularly performing – it’s ok, it’s fun.

But I think that I’ve gotten good at it because I want to be able to deliver to people. The way performing is a joy is that I can deliver for people. I’m very conscious of the fact that they’re willing to have a good time and they’re willing to focus on what it is I’m going to present. So I feel like I owe them something – I owe them being focused. And if I haven’t worked for a couple of weeks, I’m not focused the way I was.

LJ: Are Chicago audiences different than the ones you encounter elsewhere on the road?

MS:Yes. I see that there is a focus and an excitement in the way that people in Chicago listen to music that I don’t encounter other places. I’ll go to Colorado or someplace and it’s difficult for me to perform, or New Mexico, or Arizona or, to some degree, California. There seems to be a different mindset and I have to get around it. I’m just aware of the fact that these are strangers.

When I first came to Chicago, I immediately felt, ‘These people are very interested in what I’m doing’. The possibility was there and that definitely has remained. I definitely feel this when I work here. Chicago people are kind of earnest in a way, they are willing to jump in with both feet and to contemplate what you are feeling – you don’t necessarily get that from other people.

LJ: What else are you working on? What are your upcoming projects?

MS: I have a band – my wife and I have found some players that are simpatico with us. It’s a lot of fun, we’re a six piece band, we make a lot of noise. It’s called Barrowsmith. I record at home a lot… I have a friend who’s doing a cabaret show of my songs in New York. Her name is Lisa Asher and she’s really, really good and I think she’s going to come to Chicago again. I do projects with other people – there are a couple of records that have just come out, recorded by other artists. Whatever occurs to me – I’m thinking about trying to make a record of songs I really loved when I was a kid. I would say that I’m not bored.