Cello Diaries: A Week in the Life of an ETHEL

By Dorothy Lawson, cellist

As a member of the post-classical string quartet, ETHEL, one's week could be filled with days of rehearsal, as it was just last week, when we were preparing a full program of works by the Dutch composer, Jacob ter Veldhuis, for a live concert radio broadcast. Or it could be filled with sessions for a film score, as we sometimes experience through our long friendship with the Brazilian composer, Marcelo Zarvos. And there are weeks on tour, when one's time is divided between hotels rooms, car rides, visits to colleges, concert halls, and radio stations, and interminable lines at airports.

I'd like to share one completely exceptional week we lived through in February 2010, when we were invited to appear as the House Band with Thomas Dolby at the annual TED conference in Long Beach, California. Filled with eager, frantic preparation, group introspection and 4 days of joyous, almost transcendental music-making, it was a peak experience of the rarest sort, and changed our frame of reference forever.

Technology, Entertainment & Design is a gathering of brilliant, highly accomplished and influential people from all over the world who come to meet each other and be exposed to fabulous, radical new thoughts and technologies. Although it sets and exceeds standards for events of this type in every way, the feature that distinguishes it more than any other is its courageous stand on issues of global sustainability and improving the human condition. Again and again, the conference organizers challenge the participants to consider their role in, and their opportunities to contribute to, better outcomes for all. And they have turned the logic of such gatherings upside-down: every presentation that the privileged pay thousands of dollars to witness in person is posted free online to the world within weeks of the close of the conference. There are video archives on the ted.com site from this February already, and going back several years.

So, what was ETHEL doing? We had met with Thomas Dolby in New York and rehearsed from morning to evening for several days straight, learning and fine-tuning arrangements of iconic rock tunes that we had all participated in creating. Then, on the Monday morning, we flew out. The conference, itself, always runs from Wednesday through Saturday, so we were there a day and a half before the attendees. It gave us time to explore the site, watch the last details of the setup, meet the stage crew and test the sound on stage, and generally start to feel like part of the family. The conference is a huge operation, a little like an opera, and its smooth delivery is the product of well-managed cooperation. The better one understands one's role, the more useful one can be.

The role of the House Band was to open every session and set a mood that got people's imaginations fired. To this end, Thomas had selected a very clever list of 12 songs, one for each session (3 per day), including hits as old as Kashmir (Led Zepplin), and as new as the world premiere of his own Love is a Loaded Pistol. He also included several by great artists who have presented at TED, like David Byrne's (Nothing But) Flowers, Peter Gabriel's Don't Give Up, Tracy Chapman's Fast Car, Imogen Heap's Hide and Seek, Sheryl Crow's Change and Andrew Bird's Tables & Chairs. We realized pretty quickly that our service to the conference was going to be both essential and integral. These musical moments would help the audience metabolize the whole experience and feel connected to it. And we knew we were the right band to be doing this for them this year. It gave us a tremendous amount of confidence

The first day of the conference always begins with a session of shorter presentations they call TEDU (for University). It gave us a slightly longer chance to set up in the main theater before the opening session. The official start was at 11 am, when all 1500 attendees were called in to the theater by the "Triumphal Entry" from Aida, and we were ready and waiting. Thomas was onstage with his synthesizers and a baton, and ETHEL were arrayed across the balcony. Because we were all connected by in-ear monitors and an aural "click", we could spread ourselves all over the house. The audience was surrounded, and with the first sounds of Bittersweet Symphony by the Verve, they were thrilled.

After each entrance, we would retire to the dressing room to lay down our instruments, then walk out to the foyer, where giant viewing screens were positioned so ubiquitously that you could see and hear the events from the hall no matter where you stood. There, we would often pick up a coffee and settle into one of the seating areas to watch with other attendees. Many wonderful conversations began here. But we also had to stay alert to the presenting schedule, as we were required to return to the stage following each session to set ourselves up for our next entrance.

There is such an intense flow to the conference, one never takes a break. Every conversation is an opportunity to expand your mind, your community and your range of activity. ETHEL engaged with this dynamic eagerly and tirelessly. Our days were long and packed. Although the presenting sessions ended each day at 6:30 pm, we arranged evening "jam sessions" with the other performers, including ukulele virtuoso Jake Shimabukuro, singer-songwriter Natalie Merchant, the League of Extraordinary Dancers (the LED), violinist Robert Gupta (LA Phil) and DJ Acidophilus, known to his friends as TED curator, Bill Bragin. Several attendees joined in and drummed, danced or sang as we were all carried away by the enthusiasm of the group. Film composer Carter Burwell (Twilight) sat in on piano. The ecstatic, primal willingness to merge all our voices seemed to embody something significant. The conference was having a seminal effect on the entertainers, the E of TED. We were finding a new, global relationship among ourselves and it was manifesting in real time. To me, this was the single most impressive realization of the whole experience: the artists were demonstrating, intuitively, what so many of the speakers were arguing, logically. Global coherence, without stylistic dominance. Tolerance of differences, mutual respect. Cooperative behavior towards sustainable ends. Synergy.

On Saturday, after the final session, still glowing and reeling from the sensory overload, we took a few hours to gather ourselves and say thanks to the presenters, then headed to a local recording studio to capture the arrangements we had performed under controlled conditions. It was wonderful not having to stop abruptly with the end of the conference. We all played happily into the night, finishing the last take sometime around 12:30 am. The car back to the hotel was full of blissful, unconscious people. The plane ride home the next day was simple. Seeing loved ones again was a huge satisfaction. Day by day, we share the crazy range of experience this week afforded us. And now I share it with you.