Episode 55 Eric Whitmer Transcript

[Opening theme music]

[Diane] Hello and welcome to this episode of ArtsAbly in conversation. My name is Diane Kolin. This series presents artists, academics and project leaders who dedicate their time and energy to a better accessibility for people with disabilities in the arts. You can find more of these conversations on our website, artsably.com, which is spelled a-r-t-s-a-b-l-y.-dot-com. 

[Theme music]

[Diane] Today, ArtsAbly is in conversation with Eric Whitmer, a third-year Ph.D. student in musicology at the University of Michigan. You can find the resources mentioned by Eric Whitmer during this episode on ArtsAbly's website, in the blog section. 

[Excerpt: 32,000-44,000 ft. by Kristian de Leon, performed with Eric Whitmer.]
[Marimba music, soft rhythms, over continuous ethereal patterns.]

[Interview]

[Diane] Welcome to this new episode of ArtsAbly in Conversation. Today, I am with Eric Whitmer, who is a third-year PhD student in musicology at the University of Michigan. Their research draws from the fields of disability studies and digital studies, and seeks to understand how and why people utilize music to make the world "better." So we're gonna talk about that, that's a very interesting concept. Welcome, Eric! 

[Eric] Thank you so much for having me, I'm so excited to be here. Long-time listener, first-time caller, you know, it's gonna be great. 

[Diane] Yeah, definitely. Well, thank you. Okay, so I always start these interviews by asking about the background of my guests. So would you mind telling us where music comes from, where... what your artistic practices are about, and where you come from also. 

[Eric] I hail from Northern California, which is a very interesting place, because it rejects all of the stereotypes of regular California. And it is rather conservative. And so it's a very interesting place to grow up. But I was introduced there through a school of the arts, and because my parents had sent me to piano lessons when I was a kid, and I had no interest in it. I was the world's worst pianist, I still maintain that I'm the world's worst pianist. And then when I was at the Redding School of the Arts, it is the name of the school, in case anyone's listening from there, but as I was at RSA, they had the Orff approach in music education it was how they ran all of their classrooms, and so, the Orff approach is this idea that kids learn music the same way they learn language, so we should be teaching them through dancing and games and all these kinds of things. And so, I ended up, you know, doing percussion, because Orff approach uses a lot of, like, xylophones and smaller vibraphones, these kinds of things. And both my parents are community college professors, and so I remember very distinctly getting picked up from school one day and my dad being like, you know, what we need to do is we need to figure out, you need to figure out what you love doing in this world, and how you can get paid, or get so good at it that you can get paid to do it. Which, you know, a little bit daunting as a small child, but I do maintain that I was... I'm a musician because my parents' support. But I responded to him that I loved playing the drums. And so, from there, I started taking lessons, and, you know, played in the community orchestra, started taking lessons with the local university percussionist. Then started working with Jake Nissly at the San Francisco Symphony, and then did my undergrad in percussion performance, and then, while I was going through, you know, the very traditional conservatory approach, I ended up developing a chronic pain condition related to my playing, which pretty summarily kicked me in the booty and made me have to have a little bit of a, you know, early midlife crisis, and figure out: if I can't play music, who am I? What am I? What's... What is life? What is music, etc, etc. And, you know, I'm very grateful to the undergrad profs that I worked with, who at the same time that I was kind of having this, developing and starting to seek treatment for this chronic pain condition, that these musicology professors, for some, like, strange universe, like, karma, fate, whatever reason, they had put in to the syllabus a lot of disability studies. So Joe Strauss, Extraordinary Bodies - excuse me, Extraordinary Measures, my apologies. That was one of the beginning readings. And then I was also in a course just randomly that, from the, you know, filling the liberal arts requirement, and that also had a lot of disability studies things in it. And so, as I was literally, like, dealing with the... my inability to perform playing music in the way that I had been for, you know, a significant portion of my life, I was reading all of this stuff about disability studies, and so, for me, my academic journey really began with disability studies, and then it was like, oh, how can I apply this to music, and how is what I am reading about actually really related to what I am, like, embodying and going through in my experience? And so, you know, I was looking at the end of my degree and was like, gee, I don't know what I can do to get money. And realized that if I applied to grad school for, to the PhD in musicology, I could get paid to do that. And so, I applied to a bunch of jobs, and I applied to a bunch of PhD programs, and it happened that the University of Michigan paid better than any of the jobs I got offered. And I was like, great, I love the idea of, you know, getting to go study music and thinking and talking about music for 5, 6, 7 years seems like a wonderful way to spend the next few years, and we'll go from there. And that's kind of how I came to the University of Michigan, and that's where I am now. 

[Diane] So, now you are doing many things. What is your research project exactly in Michigan? 

[Eric] Yeah, so... Don't tell my dissertation committee this, but we're still working on it. No. 

[Eric] I think, broadly speaking... 

[Diane] It's going to be published, you know that. 

[Eric] it's going to be published, they will know about it eventually. No, I think, uh, where I am right now is, I'm very interested in this idea that music makes the world a better place, because I think that both you and I, and anyone that has a background in disability studies can attest. What some people say is better does not always actually mean better for everyone. And so, I'm very interested in this notion of how people use music to make themselves feel better about things like social development, about gentrification, about these kind of widespread cultural... Um... what's the word I'm looking for? Oh, not, like, cultural, not diseases, but something like slightly less negative connotations of that, but like, the cultural breaking points, the ways where people feel very uncomfortable or feel like there needs to be something done here in order to fix it or to alleviate some kind of social condition. And I think a lot of times what ends up happening is that people turn to music, because music's really great, but 9 times out of 10, a lot of people don't always think about what... the ways that music is a very contextual definition, and what someone says is music, other people would say is not music, and that there's a lot of entanglements of, you know, embodiment, enmindment, race, class, gender, sexuality, all of these things exist within music, even though, a lot of times, the people that are implementing these large-scale social phenomenons don't always realize the kind of very deep history that comes along with these things, and so... For me, I'm still working on what exactly the case studies that I'm going to be incorporating are, but broadly speaking, I do a lot of work with institutions, so I'm very interested in the notion and the technology of philanthropy and the way that people give money, and the way that music and musical institutions become codified as non-profits or charities, and how that is very much a synthesis of this making the world better with music while also, here are very real economic, social, cultural implications that come just from the organization itself. So, that's the kind of broad view of what I'm working on. I have a few different ideas for case studies, I'm... This summer, I'm very excited because this is after I pass my qualifying exams, I'll get to start going to some different archives and getting to tease out which will probably be the final case studies, and actually make it into the dissertation, but... Yeah, broadly speaking, that's kind of what I'm working on. 

[Diane] And so, uh, are you... you're working with critical disability studies models, or... So I'm thinking of, if you... if the listeners are a little bit familiar with past episodes, there is something called the social model of disability, something called the medical model of disability. And one of these models is called the charitable model of disability, right? So, are you going to use these kinds of models? And if yes, how? 

[Eric] So, that's one of the things that I'm actually very curious about. So, one of the things that I... I need to go into the archives to see. My suspect is that there is a lot of this notion of music making the world better in this kind of, through this rhetoric of the charitable model of disability right, this idea that, if you are disabled, you need the, like, help to alleviate yourself of your disability. A lot of that is tied up in things like music therapy, the history of medicalization and the medicalized usage of music, there we go. And it is, like, that is one area of the work that I do, so, I just recently presented for the AMS [American Musicological Society] Disability Study Group about some work that I've been doing on early autism studies and psychologists who are, and music therapists who are studying autism that basically say, "hey, music is gonna cure autism, fun fact." Fun fact, it does not cure autism, I can say that as an autistic musician, it really does not. I am very autistic and also play a lot of music, and haven't really figured out what the, what other people said. And so this is one of the things that I'm trying to think about through early models of philanthropic giving, especially related to musical institutions, is that oftentimes they talk about music alleviating things like "social disabilities," and they use the language of disability to talk about society as a whole. And this model of rehabilitation. So, my hypothesis, and who knows if this is true or not, I am looking forward to trying to figure out if it is or not, but is that in some of these early, like, pioneering orchestras and musical institutions in the US, there is some overlap between, like, a kind of eugenicist scientific model of social welfare and social benefit that plays into critical disability studies, and that disability studies really allows a kind of read-on. But even broader than that, I kind of make the joke usually that I'm a... I use disability studies as just my permanent methodology. Because a lot of the things that I'm most interested in is not necessarily, like, proving that this is absolutely the way that, like, this worked, or that this is, like, the better way of thinking about this history, or these kinds of things. A lot of the work that I'm most interested in is really trying to sit with a lot of the complexity that comes from contradictory statements. I think that's a place that I feel very comfortable as a disabled person, is in the very, like, these are two contradictory ideas, but I... somehow they, they are still being enacted, and they are still being embodied. And so, you have to sit with the fact that, like, especially as I, like, as someone that has a chronic pain condition, like, I don't want to have more pain, but I also don't know that I want to be completely alleviated of my pain condition. Contradictory statements, but nevertheless are very true. And so a lot of the work that I'm really interested and am very motivated by, is the work that tries to sit with the, these complexities and try to understand how do we hold both of these perspectives in such a way that we can then imagine a different future, or imagine a way of being that has more compassion towards other people. 

[Diane] Wow! That's fantastic, that's a very good way to approach things in that research. I think you're gonna have interesting things to say in the musicological world, for sure. 

[Eric] Listen, I hope so, you know. That's the goal. 

[Diane] Okay, I have a question about... so you told... you told me earlier that, as a musician, at a certain point, you had difficulties progressing and seeing a future because of your chronic pain. By studying more and by looking at these texts, and by yourself immersing completely into these concepts and finding these, these conflictual debates, did it change something in your musician... you as a musician, did it change something in the way you are performing? 

[Eric] Absolutely, yeah. This is actually really funny, because I was talking about this with my therapist earlier this week, which, you know, I feel like podcasting, therapy, like, there's some amount of overlap there. But one of the things that I fundamentally do believe is that I, as a musician, have been impacted by my disability, and would not be... and I am not the same musician that I was when I, you know, started my conservatory education. Like I... And I don't necessarily want to be the the same musician that I was, or that, the musician that I even dreamed about being when I started my conservatory degree. I think I'm much... I'm much more interested now in ways of making music that are sustainable, and that value cooperation and interdependency. I think that's so much more interesting, so much more fun to make music in these ways, it's, it's also such a relief. I was a drummer once upon a time, you know, and I remember the whole, like... the joke that you would always kind of make is that it's, like, the jocks of the, you know, the music world or the drummers. Like, you know, it was, how can you play harder, how can you play faster, how can you play louder. Like, very much of this idea of, like, how do you drill and, like, find and achieve perfection. And... You know, I think that there's an extent to which that, if that's what someone loves, and if that's what someone really does find very satisfying with music, great! Power to you, have fun, go at it. I am so, so, so, so, so not interested in that anymore, and I am so much more interested in the ideas of frailty and of, you know, to borrow terms from, you know, Molly Joyce, like, write this, like, crip virtuosity. I really do think about that a lot in my own musical practices, that, like, I am very interested in being the best musician that I know how to be in the body that I have, and of utilizing and creating music in such a way that's not dependent on a very specific kind of physical embodiment, but that is capable, potentially only being executed by me, but at the very least has a methodology or a kind of a procedure that can be followed by anyone, and so I think in that way, I'm very interested in, like, works by composers like Julius Eastman, Pauline Oliveros, Susie Ibarra... I should know more of these off the top of my head. Molly Joyce, I already mentioned. But like these kinds of musicians and thinkers who are really trying to get at the interstices of multiple ways of making music, and to find plurality in acknowledging that there are lots of ways to make sound, and that there... The more that we try to identify one sound as being the ideal, and that we move towards it, the less we have... or less ability we have to hear. And I think what disability studies allows me to think about is the other ways of hearing. And to try and think about where else, what other sounds might be possible. And that's so much more exciting to me than trying to cultivate my body in my musical practice to achieve that, like, you know, things when I can play "Lieutenant Kijé" perfectly, and, like, win the Chicago Symphony Orchestra percussion drop, like... Again, if that's what people love doing, great, go for it. I'm really no longer interested in that. And I think what I'm very interested in, in terms of, like, "making the world better," that kind of big scare quotes thing, is so much about the way that... it's less so even about the music itself, but rather the ways that people create relationships amongst themselves, and through institutions, in order to amplify certain ways of making music and discourage other ways of making music. Because so often, I think, as we can pretty much all agree, although asking any musicologist to, or any amount of musicologist to agree on something is always a dangerous gamble. [Laughs.] But, like, that there are very much... There is a certain kind of pedagogy when you say, I am learning music. And that is usually assumed to be a form of Western art music, or a kind of derivative of that. And the more that you talk about "serious" or "beautiful" musics, you usually move closer and closer towards, like, a personified ideal of Western art music. And so often, I think we can see in the history of Western art music that it has not been a space for disabled bodies and disabled minds. And in fact, it has been deemed off-limits as my research on early autistic scholars have kind of brought up, although I don't know that I would say I'm a scholar as much as they'd say they are... experimenters might be the best way that I could describe it. But, that they bring this thing up is that this music should be making these kids less autistic. It should be making them better. And that, I think, is this, very complicated notion. And not to say that, like, all orchestras or all Western art music organizations are, like, trying to "heal" disabled people without their consent. But rather that there is always this notion about music making the world a better place, and that I think the more that we complicate it, the more sounds we get to have. The more relationships with music we get to cultivate. And that's so exciting for me, because, you know, I want there to be more ways of making music. I want there to be more types of sounds that we get to hear, and I want there to be more... more openness to the way that people experience sound. My grandfather is very fond of saying that he is not musical at all, and that he has... He can't hear tones, he's tone - he just, he's not able to hear music. That is, words that he uses, not me. But I think about this a lot in the sense of how this man who is genuinely one of the kindest individuals I know, like, truly a source of light in the universe that I have no idea how he exists. But, like, that he was able to internalize this idea that he has no relationship to music is so, like, deeply upsetting to me that, like, I want to make sure, like... And I've tried multiple times for the record. I don't know that it will happen. But I do want to try and find ways of allowing people that maybe thought their bodies or minds were off-limit to music. that we can say, no, you do have a relationship to music, no, you do have this ability to engage with it. It's just potentially that the ways that we have talked about, the ways we have taught, the ways that we have encouraged music making have not allowed you to, and that's not a fault on the individual, that's a fault on those systems of music making. 

[Diane] Yes, definitely. Yeah, thank you. I'm interested in something about yourself. So you, you talked about your research. And I was thinking of the group of scholars and musicians and composers and, and audiences and everything, which touches these, this researcher of yours. As someone working in this realm, how is it... what is it for you? How could you describe what it means for you, to work with these awesome people all around, creating music or discussing music or controversial ways, or whatever. What is it for you? 

[Eric] I distinctly remember one of the moments that I realized that I was, like, no longer making music away, that, like, that would be, you know, "fittable" under the traditional definitions of Western art music, was this conversation that I had with a colleague where in which that I was critiquing some performers in the field because of the way that they were utilizing their status as a tax-exempt organization, but not necessarily giving back to the field. And this was, you know, early on when I was like, oh, what's the definition of a 501c3, and was like, I know tax a lot, yadda yadda yadda. Very young, arrogant Eric. Not to say that I'm not arrogant now, but I've tried to dilute it to some extent. But, anyways, suffice it to say that I was critiquing them, and they just made the, they just made this assertion, like, why would you even care about this? Why does this matter? Like, they're just playing music. Like, if it's good music, it's good music. And I just remember having this moment of, like, Oh, we're never gonna see the same way on this. Like, we're just... Maybe in, like, two decades, maybe they'll come around, and I hope, and wish them well and the best. But I think that where I have gotten to the... or what I have... the point that I have gotten to is that the music that I am interested in making, and the music that I enjoy the most, and feel the most collaborative about, is the music that we fundamentally try to deconstruct, like, the notions of perfection, the notions of, like, this... You know, like the consecrated, beautiful music that's like 100% pure. And to steer towards, like, no, let's do the thing that we can and be very honest about the limitations in the ways that we exist. You know, I've performed, mostly these days, I'm performing by myself as a carillonist. Because that is something that I decided to learn how to do when I came to the University of Michigan, and there just so happened to be a job posting, and so now I work as a carillonist for a church in Detroit. And I really do love that, because it's a fascinating experience, like, I, as a Jewish person, like, do not know a lot about church, and so I have had to learn a lot of things about the Christian religion, and also, like, how do I create music, and in what ways do I, like, find beauty and make things put together. Like, I'll very distinctly remember. During my first year working there during the High Holiday season, I had played... "Avinu Malkeinu" during high holidays, which is, like, a Jewish, let's use the word "hymn" for lack of a better term, and had played this, and then one of the, you know, churchgoers at the end of the concert had come up to me and said, Oh, I... or the service had just... I love this, I just heard God so much in this music, and I... she definitely did not know it was "Avinu Malkeinu." And so it was just this fascinating experience of, like, Oh, you got something very different out of the thing that I was trying to do. I love that it brought you joy and, like, some kind of spiritual connection. I don't exactly know how much, like, I was thinking about, like, spirituality in the exact same way that you were. But, like, that's great, and like... Yay! Love that for you, you know? I think this has really been so influential, like, working as a carillonneur has been so influential to me as, like, a musicologist, is because it's so humbling. A carillon, for anyone that doesn't know, is this big bell tower of an instrument where in which all, like, bells are strung with clappers, and then they all come down to kind of, like, an organ-like console. And so... And then you play the console using your hands and feet. Unlike organ you can't play with your fingers, you have to use your fists, so it's very, I analogize it a lot to a marimba, it feels very at home for me, being a percussionist by training. But the thing about playing carillon is that as you play, you watch people walk around. and have dismiss your music making sometimes. Like, it's very funny playing at the University of Michigan, because you'll play every day. I play as a one of the carillonists at the University of Michigan, I should clarify. But every day that the university's in session, there is an afternoon carillon concert that goes on, and as you're playing, you'll watch people put on their headphones. Right after you start playing! And so it's really funny in some senses, because you are, like, dominating the sonic soundscape, but also people just, like, don't care. And there'll be times that, you know, you're playing something that, like, feels very poignant and very, like, you know, has some kind of special meaning for you, and people are like, Oh, that was nice, like, it was just so pretty music. And they just have no... like, it's just two completely different experiences. And, you know, I think that's one of the things that I actually really love about playing carillon, is that it just... you have to deal with the plurality of experience, and that it's this... it's kind of beautiful, the way that just humans are kind of a human, and, like, you might think that you're doing so many great things, but at the end of the day, people have individual agency, and it's this... I think the interesting thing, and the thing that I just fall in love with every time is, like, the way that people can react in just so... such different ways, and have such natural reactions, wherein, like, at a performance, people feel like they have to cultivate their reaction, or have a certain kind of feeling to music, and it's kind of really awesome when it's so diffuse in a public soundscape that you're able to watch as people choose to or choose not to interact with your music. 

[Diane] Were you a carillonneur before? Like, when you were a percussionist, were you already playing the carillon? or is it something new? 

[Eric] No, I was not. 

[Diane] Wow. 

[Eric] So that was something completely new. I... So, when I came to the University of Michigan, one of the professors at my undergraduate institution had introduced me to Tiffany Ng, who is a musicologist and the university carillonist, big TM there, for the University of Michigan. And so, I had gone to one of her concerts when I was doing my visit at UMich, and saw this instrument and was like, I think it's the percussion urge to play the loudest thing possible, because as soon as I saw, like, the carillon and, like, what it entails us, like, I absolutely have to do this. And so I started playing it, I thought I was just gonna take lessons for a semester, because at that point, I was still... my pain condition was pretty consistent, and it was... I was pretty sure I wasn't gonna be playing drums anytime in the future. And so I was like, here. I'll do this carillon thing, it'll let me have some amount of music making, and, you know, that will just kind of be, like, a pacifier. Like, you know, I'll wean myself off of making music, and... you know, surprise, surprise, I fell in love with it, and was like, nope, this is amazing and awesome, and I want to keep on doing this. So, I kind of, you know, re-fell in love with, like, playing music through playing carillon, and then I've started playing drums again as, you know, my PT and all the fun things regimen allows me to, and so that was kind of my way back into music making. 

[Diane] Speaking of feeling the music and listening to the music differently, when you play the carillon, can you feel the vibration? Can you, is there, is it a bit like the organ where you will have some - I mean, not "a bit like the organ," but you know, you know what I mean, it's gonna be, feeling the instrument in a different way that is part of... that is not listening anymore. 

[Eric] Yeah, so it's actually funny. One of the things that I think I never really realized about being a drummer is that you never touch your instrument. And, like, you always play through sticks, you play, I mean, sometimes you play with your hands, right? But, like, there's always this kind of, like, removal from the instrument itself that I always kind of felt as a percussionist. And playing carillon, is that on, like, to the extreme. Because even as you're playing, you're... as you press down on any individual lever, you pull a wire which then brings a clapper against a bell, and that's how the carillon actually, like, physically makes sound. But it's so loud, the mechanism itself, is that it can be hard to hear the actual bells and the music you're making itself, so usually we actually have amplifiers, and, like, electronic speakers that then allow us to actually hear the sounds that we're making. And so I... you know, it's this really interesting thing of that, like, you're almost so removed from the music itself that you kind of have to trust and feel this, like, disconnection and recognize that as the music-making process in and of itself. And they're heavy, like, especially the University of Michigan carillons. Yes, I did say that right, the University of Michigan has two carillon. Please don't ask me why. Again, not my decision. I'm glad they knew, but again, not my financial decisions. But these carillons are so big that, especially the historical one that's on Central Campus, when you play the lowest note, it, like, it's so heavy that it pushes you up. Like, you can jump up of that note, because the pedal has that much resistance to it. And so, you end up very much feeling like you're pushing against this, like, very physical thing that then makes the sound. It's this really, really interesting. And one of these days I'm gonna write some really weird musicology thing about, like, the cyborg musician, and like, how the carillon relates to the human body, and, like, there's some new musicology thing in there, I'm working on it. But that's the, like, it is this kind of very removed process from music making that I, I really like it, it's a challenge in some ways to, like, really feel like you have a very specific touch on the instrument. And that's what I think is... makes it entertaining and exciting to play, is that you work to cultivate that very, like, delicate touch. 

[Diane] I try to envision what is happening when you're playing. [Laughs.] 

[Eric] Listen, one of these days, I'll figure it out, we'll find a carillon, and we can do it. 

[Diane] Okay, great! Let's do it! 

[Eric] Actually, one of the University of Michigan carillons is completely ADA accessible. 

[Diane] Oh, wow! 

[Eric] And we are very proud of that, because we don't actually know if any, like. There are very few carillons in the world that are ADA accessible, but one of ours actually is, which is, like, for some miracle it actually works. So, yeah. 

[Diane] This is a perfect reason for me visiting you in Michigan. 

[Eric] There we go! [Laughs.] 

[Diane] Not the only one! [Laughs.] Okay, I have a question about... as a musician and as a scholar, who are the people who really counted for you in your, in your career as a musician, or as a researcher? 

[Eric] You know, I... that's such a wonderful question. I think... there are lots of people. There is this rule in, that, you know, I got taught when I was still a drummer. No, when I was back in percussion mentality by Josh Quillen of Sō Percussion. There's a shoutout to Josh, they have a podcast you can go listen to. But he has this rule that he talks about that's if you're asked for help, you give it, and if you're, and if you need help, you ask for it. Alright, did I say that right? Yes. If you're asked for help, give it, and if you need help, ask for it. And I'm very much of the opinion that that is, like, one of the golden rules of life, that, like, this is something that I was given a lot of help, so I want to be able to give that back and pass it on to other people, and to work with other people in such ways that I was given opportunities, and afforded things. So, obviously, the musicologists at my undergraduate institution, like Melanie Lowe, Joy Calico, Robbie Fry, Doug Shadel, have been hugely monumentally influential to me, as well as some of the music theorists, like Stan Link. Also, I'm thinking of my undergraduate institution. They have all been very much cheerleaders for me as I was starting to do musicology. Also Rebecca Epstein-Levi was one of my first... She was, it was her class, really, that I started to really engage with disability studies. And then she had the... for some reason, agreed to do an independent study with me on disability studies, and that really just blew my mind. I think, towards the find of... Um... the... what's the work that they use? The... Parasocial is the word that I'm looking for. So, I think about, like, the kind of parasocial para-scholar, like, I don't know if we can use that mashup of words, but, like, this notion of, like, working, and learning from people that you feel like you have some kind of, like, academic or intellectual relationship because their work inspires your own and that you feel like you want to engage with in some way. Towards these kinds of scholars that, like, very much influence me, that don't know who I am, but that, nevertheless, like, I am, like, very much a fangirl of, I think about Alison Kafer, Simi Linton, Stella Young. I think I play videos of Stella Young, talking and beside her reading probably on par with a lot of other people. Gaelynn Lea, obviously. Towards, like, musicology realms, I think, of works by, like, Jessica Holmes, Will Cheng, and Anabel Maler, are all wonderful scholars whose work I very much enjoy, and whose work makes me, like, very excited about. Like, oh my gosh, I can't wait to think about this and to like read their next thing. And, yeah, you know, like, so those are the names that are coming to my mind right now. But then also just, like, towards the people that are always rooting for me. Obviously, I have to shout out, like, my parents and family, and then also, you know, my friends that have rooted me along the way. Abrielle Scott is my best friend in the whole world, and probably. through, like, me has probably earned at least the equivalent of some kind of master's degree in musicology, just because I rant about it so much to her, so she also deserves a big shoutout for bearing witness to my rants about musicology. 

[Diane] Okay, thanks, that's a lot of people, that's great. These names are awesome. 

[Eric] I like a lot of people, I really like people. I really like people. 

[Diane] You like people, that's good. That's a good problem. [Laughs.] Okay, I have a last question for you, and it's about what you're doing right now. Are you working on specific projects that you want to tell us about? 

[Eric] Yeah, so literally today, I am finishing the minor edits for a forthcoming colloquy in the Journal of Music pedagogy... Musicology Pedagogy, I think is the new name of the journal, formerly the journal known as Music History Pedagogy, that is coming out soon as a, thanks to the AMS Disability Study group, and so that, my portion of that is talking about... or it's entitled - there we go, I pulled it up so I make sure I get it right - "The Relevance of Kairotic Spaces in the Musicology Classroom." And it's basically using the theorization done by Margaret Price and Remi Yergeau, about this idea of how do we design... or think about trying to design a classroom that is flexible, and that is designed in such a way that we think about accessibility as being a collaborative endeavor instead of being something that students navigate by themselves, and so that's the thing I am actively, literally working on right now. 

[Diane] And this will be out when? You don't know? 

[Eric] Late December, I believe. I don't know the exact date, but I know that I have to get it done soon, so that... I know that at the very least it will be very quickly turned around, so look for that soon! 

[Diane] Yeah, okay. Well, we are gonna also publish a page with all this information, like, everything we've mentioned during the conversation, so that people can find a little bit more about you, and read your work, and see you perform, maybe, I don't know, you know? 

[Eric] We'll see, I gotta find a good video, we'll see if I can do it! [Laughs.] 

[Diane] Well, thank you so much, it has been a real pleasure to learn a little bit more about you, it was great. Thank you for sharing all your work. 

[Eric] Thank you for having me, this has been awesome. 

[Diane] Well, the only thing I need to do now is come to Michigan and play the carillon with you. 

[Eric] We're gonna make it happen, and you know, I got a guest room, we'll figure it out, it's gonna be great. 

[Diane] Okay, thank you so much Eric, have a great day. 

[Eric] You as well. 

[Diane] Bye. 

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