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Women in the music industry: profiling female percussionists
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Women in the music industry: profiling female percussionists
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Content
Women in the Music Industry: Profiling Female Percussionists
By
Anna Escher
A Thesis Presented to the
FACULTY OF USC GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
MASTER OF ARTS
(SPECIALIZED JOURNALISM)
May 2014
Copyright 2014 Anna Escher
2
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Candace Hansen, Michaelle Goerlitz, Theresa Dimond, Kate
Schellenbach, and Rachael Rine for sharing valuable stories with me.
I also want to recognize Robert Hernandez, Tim Page and KC Cole for their guidance and
support with this project.
3
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements 2
Abstract 4
1) Introduction 6
2) Choice of Medium 9
3) Interviewees 10
4) Interview Transcriptions 12
5) Conclusions 33
6) References 34
Appendix: Screenshots of the website on different devices
4
Abstract
When I was younger, I wanted to play the drums. I sat in band class in middle school,
alternating between the triangle and the cymbals, and on my lucky days, I’d get to play
the snare drum. I took up private lessons, learning to play the drum set with Jim
Lemmons and Roger Kidd. I made it to the Cazadero Performing Arts Camp in the
coastal redwoods of Northern California and earned a seat as the jazz band drummer.
People were always surprised to see me and the few other young girls behind the drum
set or back in the percussion section – this, I did not understand. I carried this question
with me: Why do so few women play the drums? Could this possibly have to do with
personality, cultural values, or gender? Why have more men than women gravitated
toward the field of percussion, and why are we looked at differently?
This project is an exploration of these questions. I chose to interview five women who are
experienced, professional percussionists – their backgrounds and talents range from
classical training to Afro-Cuban and Latin American percussion to punk rock drumming.
These interviews were designed to highlight their careers and dig deeply into the
resistance they have faced as women in a male-dominated category of instrumentation
across genres.
5
This project exists to investigate how women, as artists, have navigated musical careers
throughout the twenty-first century. The interview subjects have shared with me their
stories of discrimination and sexual harassment, details of their career paths, and advice
for future girls and women interested in the drums.
All of the interviewees emphasized, in one way or another, that girls and women are still
told to be quiet. Women are not always encouraged to voice themselves or taught to be
declarative. This is why the process of learning the drums – by nature a loud, physical
instrument – does not always make sense to girls. However, for these reasons, learning,
experiencing, and enjoying the drums can be an extremely empowering accomplishment
for women, men, or anybody.
This project becomes journalistic through carefully-planned interviews that I have
designed to be as objective as possible. However, it is here that I must be transparent
about the fact that I admire these women and am searching for evidence that they have
had to navigate careers in percussion differently than men and have to jump through
different hoops in order to be successful in this industry.
6
1. Introduction
“It’s like they’re jumping into cold water,” Candace Hansen, organizer of Rock Camp for
Girls and Women Orange County, says of her female students. Hansen, a punk rock
drummer and community activist, explains that, more often than not, young girls do not
understand the concept of hitting something that makes a loud noise. For girls and even
grown women, producing sound on an instrument in a way that draws attention to
themselves is a new, frightening concept. She explains her philosophy: “but it’s really
about knowing that it’s okay to express yourself and be organically who you are and
unashamed of it. To have a release and to have fun and to connect with people. Women
need that. Girls need that. Everybody needs that.”
Rock Camp for Girls and Women was my starting point for this project. The Portland-
based feminist organization has expanded into California throughout the past few years.
There, female guitarists, vocalists, and percussionists become mentors for young girls
during a two-week summer camp. Women can also get a similar experience during
weekend-long intensive workshops in which participants learn self-defense and the basics
of rock performance.
Candace spoke at length about her experiences with sexual harassment throughout her six
years of employment working in the drum shop at Guitar Center. She requested that her
stories remain off the record in my interview and in my profile, “Candace Hansen
Teaches Girls the Value of Being Loud,” that ran in the OC Weekly in January. However,
7
she was happy to share insightful stories in her interview about how frustrating it has
been for her to not be taken seriously by other musicians because of her gender. She has
taken these hardships and the discrimination she experienced and used them to teach
confident musicality to young girls and women in hopes that they will not encounter the
same sexism she unfortunately had to experience.
However, not all the interviewees had the same experience. Kate Schellenbach, the
drummer for Luscious Jackson and former drummer for the original Beastie Boys, had
quite a different experience growing up in New York City during the ’80s. She describes
her musical upbringing as supportive, explaining that learning the drums through a punk
lens was a progressive experience in which the fact that she was a girl was celebrated.
She shared stories about when Mike Diamond and John Berry befriended her and what it
was like performing with the young, countercultural group the Beastie Boys started out
as, singing parody songs about Chinese food and the deli downstairs that people just
seemed to love and want more of. But Schellenbach also expounds on the differences that
exist within the intra-group communication styles of men and women, noting that
practicing with women is a very different experience than practicing with men.
Thus emerges a two-fold perspective on the woman in percussion. Firstly, women
drummers have more hoops to jump through than male drummers because femininity is
not a characteristic associated with the instrument. Drum sets have a lot of parts and
mechanics involved, and playing the instrument in a band is seen as a holistic role in
which one leads a musical group through rhythm. As evidenced through these interviews,
8
women are not always perceived as capable of playing such a role and are therefore
discouraged from picking up the sticks. (Schellenbach even describes searching for spare
drumsticks on the ground after concerts because she felt uncomfortable setting foot in
drum shops that did not recognize women as percussionists.) Gender discrimination and
sexual harassment are also real issues that these artists have faced and continue to face, as
each of the interviews explains.
Secondly, many of these artists do not see a reason for why a differentiation has to exist
in 2014. As Rachael Rine of Femme Fatale says, “When a guy hits a drum, it sounds
exactly the same as when a girl hits a drum.” So, the question becomes, why is a project
like this necessary? Because girls are still told to be quiet, and role models who can
empower girls to not hesitate when it comes to the drums (whether on a drum kit or on
individual Latin American or classical instruments) are brave, rare and newsworthy.
9
2. Choice of Medium
One of the objectives of this project is to use digital storytelling – in this case, video
interviews. It was a goal of mine to learn how to use cameras and edit film. This project
is my first attempt at digital storytelling and I have found that there is a lot of creativity to
be explored in this medium. Being able to listen to someone discuss a difficult topic and
to see her body language, hear her voice and witness her facial expressions on camera
puts a face to words and makes the person relatable to viewers.
The women were, for the most part, happy to share their personal footage and photos as
b-roll for my videos. Theresa Dimond only had one photo of herself and no footage or
recordings of herself playing percussion. Rachael Rine told me that there was footage I
could use, but did not send me anything in time to meet thesis deadlines. I was able to
download a video from YouTube and credit the user and proper information under the
guidelines of this being a journalistic graduate school thesis project. I was not able to get
footage of her playing the drums on my own camera since she had a broken foot and has
been off the set for a few months.
I also made the choice to organize the videos into a video portfolio on part of my
developing personal website. With the video component, this project seems better suited
to be a portfolio of personal work than content for Tom Tom Magazine or another
alternative publication. However, as a result of this project, my written profile of Hansen
did run in OC Weekly. The interviews can be watched at
www.annaescher.com/artistproject.
10
3. Interviewees
Once I had reached out to drummer friends, I began to connect with many different
women who were interested in being part of this project. I was able to narrow my
subjects down to five women: Candace Hansen, Michaelle Goerlitz, Theresa Dimond,
Kate Schellenbach and Rachael Rine. I chose to focus on five women because I did not
want to do so many interviews that the project would become too dense and tedious for
viewers to consume, but I also wanted to have enough variety within the content to show
how different, yet similar, these women’s experiences have been. The interviews ranged
from thirty-minute to one-hour-long conversations. With editing, they have been
condensed into six- to thirteen-minute videos.
Candace Hansen is a twenty-seven-year-old Southern California native who is currently
a women’s studies major at UCLA. She is also the head organizer for Rock Camp for
Girls and Women in the Orange County region. Hansen is a punk drummer and has taken
many small gigs with punk and ska-punk bands. Her most recent achievement was
recording with Exene Cervenka, lead vocalist for the LA punk band X. Hansen is also a
writer for Tom Tom Magazine.
Michaelle Goerlitz lives in Richmond, California, and is a professional percussionist
who specializes in Afro-Cuban and Latin American music. She was a founding member
of the groups Blazing Redheads and Wild Mango. She has toured and traveled with these
groups throughout South America.
11
Theresa Dimond found her calling in live music. The Arizona native earned her
bachelor’s degree, master’s degree and PhD from USC, specializing in performance
percussion. She is currently the principal timpanist for the Pasadena Pops and the LA
Master Chorale. She has performed with the Pasadena Symphony, California
Philharmonic, LA Philharmonic and Hollywood Bowl Orchestra. She studied under Ken
Watson, specializing in the Hungarian cimbalom. Her other studies at USC included adult
pedagogy, jazz pedagogy and music history. Her thesis was a project that followed the
development of the vibraphone through performance.
Kate Schellenbach grew up in New York City and began her drumming career as a
founding member of the Beastie Boys. Since leaving the Beasties, she has been the
drummer for groups like the Lunachicks and Luscious Jackson, which has recently
reformed. Schellenbach has also worked as a segment producer for shows like Lopez
Tonight and The Ellen DeGeneres Show. She currently resides in Eagle Rock, California.
Rachael Rine is from Santa Fe, New Mexico, where she grew up playing set drums.
After moving to Los Angeles, she became a member of the rock band Femme Fatale
during the late 1980s. The band has since reformed and is currently working on an album.
She was also a founding member of Cockpit, an all-female rock band that played together
for ten years. Rine also accepts small gigs like appearing on television shows as well as
playing in music videos.
12
4. Interview Transcriptions
Sunday, November 10, 2013, Interview with Candace Hansen Transcription
Candace Hansen (CH): So how you doin’ girl?
Anna Escher (AE): I’m great. How about you?
CH: Doing great.
AE: Cool. So, think of this as just a conversation. Ignore the camera, and it works best if
you answer the questions in full sentences, like if I say, “What’s your name?” you’d say
“My name is Candace Hansen.”
CH: Alright.
AE: What is your name, and what do you do?
CH: My name is Candace Hansen, and I am a current UCLA student. Go Bruins. And
I’m a drummer. I write for a drum magazine called Tom Tom kind of loosely. And I
organize stuff in Orange County. The main thing I do is Rock and Roll for Girls camp in
Orange County. And I’m the social media manager for Istanbul Agop Cymbals.
AE: What’s that?
CH: It’s a cymbal company. And I used to work at Guitar Center. I was there for over six
years in their drum shop. So I have a lot of experience in the business side of drums and
percussion. Sales, service – I was in drum tech in that whole, kind of, field. But I’m also
a drummer. And I’m really rooted in community activism.
AE: That’s awesome. How did you get into percussion?
CH: When I was a really young kid, for some reason I was just like, “Oh my God, I really
want to be a drummer.” For some reason, you know, I was like, “Yes, I’m going to do it.”
So I, like, tried out for my school band and basically it was like, I don’t know if it was
sexism or the patriarchy or maybe they didn’t have enough gear – like they only had three
snare drums – but they made me play clarinet for a year. So I played the clarinet for a
year and then they let me play drums. Cool. So I got to play snare and I really liked it.
But it wasn’t this revelation of my life. And then, when I was fifteen, I was like, “God, I
really want to play drums.” And I just – the next day at school this guy was like, “Does
anyone want to buy a drum set?” I was like, “Yes. Me.” It was perfect. Bought a drum set
for fifty bucks off a kid at school and I just taught myself. I just listened to KROQ and
tried to play every beat and eventually I just figured it out. And I just have always loved
playing drums for some reason. I used to play on boxes. I made a drum set out of boxes
13
when I was a little kid. You know. Not even little, I was, like, thirteen. What a nerd. And
I had this camera that my mom got me for graduation in seventh grade and I would tape
myself playing the boxes trying to be legit, not really knowing what I was doing. But I
always had this weird connection with it.
AE: So, how would you describe your style, then, as a percussionist?
CH: You know, I play the drum set obviously. Well, I guess it’s not obvious. Whatever.
You know, it’s changed over the years. I’ve always been a punk drummer. I’ve always
loved punk. And once I was able to get the mechanics of playing a drum set, I said, “Now
I’m going to play punk music.” So I put on punk and I learned to play to all the ’90s punk
records. That’s always been my style. I was in a ska-punk band for a while. Anything
that’s, like, underground punk. Now that I’ve gotten older and really wanting to expand
myself as a musician, I’ve gotten into other types of music. I know it’s so cliché, but I
was like, “Oh, I should learn jazz.” So I learned jazz. I learned the blues. I learned the
shuffle. Actually, I took lessons from my friend Ali, who is here, and she was like, “You
need to get your groove back. Or you need to find your groove.” And she made me, like,
dance while I was playing the drums. I felt so nerdy about it because you’re supposed to
be militant. So now I have this interesting style I just got to record on this seven-inch for
Exene Cervenka. I do a second line jazz part but it’s punk. So I feel like my style is really
a fusion. Always punk but, like, searching for something else. And trying to stay tasteful
and complement the other musicians. Does that kind of make sense?
AE: Yes, absolutely.
CH: Sorry if I’m talking too much.
AE: No, no, this is all great. Can you tell me more about LA Rock Camp for Girls and
how you got started with it in Orange County?
CH: Yeah, yeah. So I was doing a paper for community college for my women’s studies
class. And [the prompt] was to identify a problem in your community and provide some
solutions for it. So I was like, “Oh I’ll tie in my love for feminism and my love for
music.” I thought it would be an easy paper, right? I did the paper and I found girls rock
camp and I was like, “Holy shit, this is what I need, like my fuckin’ paper.” I referenced
it in my paper and I did the one in Portland. The thing about Girls Rock Camp is that it
expanded. Folks were like, “Wow, that’s amazing.” And, at the same time, other people
were having their own, kind of, inclinations to do the same work. Blending feminism and
having a safe, inclusive space for women – girls, primarily – with music. As musicians,
you have to interact with other people nonverbally. And create space for people and all of
these other radical ideas at the same time as having a good time. So boom. Perfect. I did
the paper and my women’s studies professor was like, “You have to go to this rock camp.
This isn’t just your paper, these are your people. You have to go.” So I went and it was,
like, life changing. It was really crazy. Sorry I’ve been losing my voice from rock camp.
But I went and it was really inspiring and I was like, “Wow, what is it about this
experience that I’m getting so much from?” I went to Portland and thought, “Yeah, I
14
should really bring this to my community.” This had to happen. LA is pretty close.
Orange County is maybe an hour away. But it’s a totally different community and every
community has its own needs. So I went to LA and worked there one summer, worked
their ladies rock camp. I got an amazing team together and we all are really passionate
about this work so we’ve been able to create this program here. And what we do is
empower girls and women through music. Education and performance. That’s kind of the
long answer.
AE: That’s great. Why is it important that girls and women can understand and
experience rock music?
CH: I think girls and women – it’s really empowering for someone to actually produce
sound on an instrument. You’ll see a lot of people [be] really shy. And I worked in a
drum shop for years and I never saw this with guys. No one has an experience like, say a
man and a woman walk into a drum shop. You’ll see that typically, men are more
comfortable producing sound. Drawing attention to themselves. By hitting a drum, you’re
declaring, “I just made this sound and you’re hearing it.” It draws a lot to you and puts
you in a vulnerable position that we don’t often think about as musicians [in] that it’s
really crazy what we’re doing. Women, you’ll often see, have a really hard time hitting a
drum. Really hard time. And I have a lot of students that are women. I’m a private drum
teacher too. The first thing I need to tell a lot of them is: “Why are you so scared to hit
this drum? What is going on?” So it’s really important for girls and for women to know
that it’s okay to express yourself and be organically what you are and unashamed of it.
To have a release, and to have fun. Also, to connect with other people. Especially with
women, this is a non-competitive environment where we all work as a team. It’s
important, regardless of gender, for people to have an opportunity to really, organically
work together and [to] respect each other’s space. There’s this classic story that I always
tell about this one girl here. She was afraid to hit the drum. She couldn’t even hit it. And
by day five, she was shredding. I mean, it’s not like she was Stewart Copeland or
anything, but she was just shredding. She’s playing the drums, she’s playing with her
heart. At the showcase. And to see that transformation within only five days is insane.
AE: I feel that. When I was younger I was so shy. But I was also very angry and angsty
as a teenager, just about all the things teenagers have to be angsty about. But it was so
great to be able to express myself creatively.
CH: Totally.
AE: With drums, what bothers me about it is that people think that drums have to be
masculine. When you say “drums,” people think biceps, forearms, hands. You know it’s a
muscular movement. And women don’t feel like they can do that too. I remember my
first drum fill, I was like, “Woah. I just improvised this.” It was this creative moment that
was very important in my life.
CH: Yeah! Like, you do this drum fill. People, usually men, will just fart out this drum
fill and not give a fuck. It’s like boo-do-do-do-do chhhh. But you’ll see women really
15
struggle. It’s like they’re jumping into cold water. You’ll see the expression on their face
like “ahh.” And it’s great, what you just said. That you needed it to inspire yourself and
be creative and not be scared. Women need that. Girls need that. Everybody fucking
needs that.
AE: I totally agree. What kind of resistance have you experienced as a female drummer?
Like from men, other women. Anyone really bugged you about it?
CH: Yeah. I will say it’s gotten a lot better. I’m sure you can relate to this as a drummer.
When you’re moving in gear, somebody will ask you, “Hey where’s the drummer?” or
“Oh, is your boyfriend here?” or whatever. My boyfriend’s not around. He doesn’t exist
[laughs]. You know you always get those weird questions when you go to clubs but it has
gotten a lot better. Maybe it’s because I don’t play at as shitty clubs as I used to. I’ve
gotten that “You’re so good for a girl” and “You play drums like a man.”
AE: Oh God.
CH: Thanks friend. Like, cool. When I worked at Guitar Center I got a lot of resistance
from men working there. There were men who refused to work with me there in the shop.
I had one customer who literally wouldn’t deal with me because I was a woman. He
refused to acknowledge me in that space. What was funny was that I actually knew a lot
more than my coworker there who was this awesome dude named Terrance. This
customer had a really old ’70s Hamas Swing Star – well, not Swing Star, Rock Star.
Maybe it was an ’80s, I don’t remember exactly – that he needed all these weird parts for.
The other guy didn’t know the parts. He didn’t know what was required. Different gears
require different lugs and different spacing on the lugs depending on the diameter and the
depth of the drum. It’s all specific. Especially with older drums because they get rid of
the parts if they’re no longer necessary. So it’s like a car. Right? I’ve lost some of the
knowledge about this cause it’s been a while, but yeah. So this guy literally would come
in, talk to Terrance as a mediator and [he] and I would literally be right next to each
other. He would turn to me and say, “Okay, I need to order this part for my drum. Can
you order it for me?” And Terrance would say, “Hey Candace, we need to order a part for
his drum. Can you please help me?” It was kind of like this game. It was a great feeling
for me at the end of this story because this guy had just refused to acknowledge me and
would use a mediator to get all the parts he needed. I was like, “Yeah, you’re a dick but
this is my job and I have to help you.” It really bothered me at first. I was really affected
by it. Eventually I was like, “I’m not going to let this guy affect me anymore,” and I
would go out of my way to be extra nice when he would come in. Saying, “What’s up
buddy? How are the gigs?” Really go the extra mile. And eventually he warmed up to me
and would only deal with me. It was really great because literally for a year, I would have
this insane resistance from men. They would just ignore me. There were a lot of folks
who were men that would not acknowledge me in that space as being a drum tech. That
was the most resistance I’ve ever had as a drummer, was working in a drum shop. But
Guitar Center has changed its policies and is doing a lot of work for women in music
now. They donate a lot of money, well, not a lot of money, but some money to rock
camps. They’re kind of trying to give back for some of the things that women who have
16
worked there had to endure at the hands of customers. So it’s really interesting. I mean,
that’s probably the biggest thing.
AE: That’s crazy. I had no idea it could be like that in a drum shop. I mean, when I was
in band, I was always the only girl in the section. So, when I would beat out the guys for
the jazz band seat, they would get mad. They would say, “They’re only giving it to her
because she’s a girl.”
CH: Totally rude.
AE: Seriously. Another question: What was your first creative moment?
CH: Wow, that’s a really good question. My first creative moment. Gosh, I don’t know.
You know what my first creative moment was? It was in my first band, my first garage
band with this – I was a freshman and he was a senior in high school. He was like, “Let’s
be in a band,” and I was like, “Yes.” So I go to his house every other day after school.
And he’s like, “Let’s jam. Dude, bro, let’s jam.” And I was like, “Okay.” So he starts
playing and I remember the feeling of “Woah, I am playing my own thing right now. This
is mine.” And I think every drummer has this beat, the one that’s like do do cha do ka do
ka do cha and I just thought it was the best thing ever and just feeling like, “That is our
jam.” To have your own thing that you wrote, versus playing on a track. I think that
might have been it.
AE: That’s awesome. I think that’s about it, but I wanted to make sure I had the right
biographical information about you. Can you tell me where you’re from, where you were
born...?
CH: Okay, I was born in Westminster, California. I grew up my whole life in Garden
Grove, California. I live in Huntington Beach now, so I’ve always lived in Orange
County. Let’s see, I’m twenty-seven, I’ll be twenty-eight next month. I went to Santa Ana
College for a while while I was working at Guitar Center. That was before I started at
UCLA, so I’m super happy to be in the UC system. That’s pretty much it. Thank you.
AE: Well, I want to volunteer for this camp.
CH: Come teach drums, dude. I don’t know if you’re a feminist, but it’s really awesome
to be in this environment. We’re a community empowering girls. Insane.
AE: Yes, that’s totally my thing.
CH: It’s fun too. With the girls’ camp, you just hang. Play drums, talk about drums – it’s
all women. And then you eat some sandwiches and it’s a good time. You gotta come.
Thank you for coming down. This was really fun.
17
Friday, November 29, 2013, Interview with Michaelle Goerlitz Transcription
AE: What is your name and what do you do?
Michaelle Goerlitz (MG): My name is Michaelle Goerlitz and I’m a percussionist. I’ve
been in the Bay Area since 1980, playing different kinds of percussion.
AE: How did you first get into percussion?
MG: I started percussion when I was eight. My dad was a drummer. He wasn’t playing in
the house by the time I came along, but he always used to say he’s the one who taught me
to count to four. Both he and my mom were really encouraging so I didn’t really have a
lot of music right in the house – drumming in the house – but I’ve had that
encouragement.
AE: Did you grow up here?
MG: No I’m originally from Indiana. I was born in Tennessee but grew up in Indiana. A
small town. So I don’t know why, but I always wanted to play drums. I just always
wanted to.
AE: You’ve also founded groups too, Blazing Redheads and Wild Mango?
MG: Yes.
AE: What was it like playing in these groups?
MG: It’s been great. It’s mixed. Not always the easiest career, I guess. I’m a team person.
I like to support people. I’m not a solo artist. I love interaction and collaboration and I’ve
played in a couple of long-term groups. The Blazing Redheads, we were all women,
played together for about eight years and then it kind of overlaps into another group
called Wild Mango, which ended up going for about fourteen years. So there were a lot of
changes that went on in that group. Musical style. It’s interesting to see, over a long
period of time, what can happen. So I love the group thing.
AE: What else are you currently working on?
MG: Right now, I’ve been playing in a quartet called the V Note. The V stands for
Venezuela. So its lead by Jacqueline Nurago. She’s a percussion and string virtuoso all
the way from Venezuela. We mix Venezuelan music with jazz. This past summer we
played in a group that mixed Cuban Bata drumming with American roots music, like
spirituals and plantation songs. There were four singers and three Bata players. We got to
go to Cuba and play at this festival that honored women who played Bata. We’re still
continuing. It’s tricky because a lot of the group are busy and are leaders of other bands.
18
AE: What draws you to these different styles and the concept of blending different styles
of music? I know you do Venezuelan, Peruvian percussion. What draws you to that?
MG: Rhythm. That’s why I love Latin music so much, and Middle Eastern music. I
always say Indian music is my next thing. I love it. It just seems so overwhelming to try
and keep up with all these percussion instruments. But I love the rhythm and the way it
fits together. I always have the jazz element too. I’m an American! I don’t want to be
anybody but who I am, but I love that our culture has always mixed things so much. I
don’t love all kinds of jazz, but I like what mixes with world music.
AE: Cool. Can you tell me more about these different styles? Like Brazilian percussion
for example. What instruments are specific to that style? I really don’t know that much
about world music.
MG: I guess, in a few words, I could say that I really like Brazilian music because the
rhythmic aspect is super strong. A lot of times, there will be similarities. There will be
five or six instruments going on doing different things, and then at once it will become
the same. The funkiness of that spot. There are a lot of different types of Brazilian music
too that remind me of other Latin styles that just have so much wealth in different types
of instruments and drums. Brazilian music isn’t just bossa nova or samba. There is so
much other stuff that you can get into. I love the language although I don’t speak
Portuguese; I love the sound of it. It’s so musical. And it also fits really well with jazz
too.
AE: I love listening to Portuguese people speak. It’s an interesting language. It sounds
nothing like anything I’ve ever heard before.
AE: When I was younger and in the drum section, I was always the only girl. So when I
got the seat in jazz band, all the boys said that I only got it because I was a girl and the
camp wanted diversity. I was always the only girl in the section. That’s what drew me to
this project. I’m curious: as a woman, have you ever experienced resistance?
MG: No, never. Hah, of course. Definitely. One time when I was teaching myself how to
play the drum set when I was fourteen, I was practicing and my mom answered the door
and this guy was there and said, “Hey, I’m looking for a drummer. My band needs a
drummer. I was wondering if I could talk to him.” My mom tried to keep from laughing
and she opened the door and there I was, a fourteen-year-old girl. And he was so
shocked. Kind of like a blind audition. Of course he just left right away. Sure, it’s
happened a lot. Probably more than I know. Usually what happens is people just don’t
call. So you never know. Also I have to say, my biggest employers are guys. I love guys.
I love bands that are actually mixed.
AE: How do you feel gender contributes to that?
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MG: I have played with several bands that are just women and yes, I like it. It’s a special
thing with a different energy. Guy and women communicate differently in general. And
there’s a balance somewhere in there that if you can get that, it’s great. I don’t like
playing in bands with all guys where I feel, like, invisible or stomped on. I won’t hang
around too long. But I don’t like to play with groups of women where it just becomes a
processing session. Not that that happens all the time. But sometimes I've felt that. So I
like both. I’ve played with women who can really push you, but in general I've gotten a
lot of great stuff with guys.
AE: It seems like the drums and the act of making noise on a drum is a declarative
statement. Sometimes it’s hard for women to assert themselves on the instrument.
MG: I think that, a lot of times, girls weed themselves out. It’s really sad to say, but I still
see it today. That’s one of the reasons this happens. Girls are still told today to be quiet.
And if you don’t get that support – if I didn’t get that support in my home, I don’t know
if I would have been able to do it. If you don’t have that personality to go out and
confront the world, the rest of the world that was telling me, “Why are you playing
drums? You shouldn’t be playing drums.” Casting that doubt on me. “Girls don’t play
drums. You look like a guy.” Because there weren’t that many role models. There was,
like, Karen Carpenter. I did not ever see another woman playing drums, really. An older
person … until I got into college and got more exposed to people. But even today, you
don’t go pick up a copy of Modern Drummer and see a woman on a cover. So what do
they do? They have to create Tom Tom.
AE: The fact that Tom Tom is a magazine devoted to women in drumming – that shows
that there’s a divide. That there’s a need for it.
MG: And they aren’t as possible as Modern Drummer.
AE: I wish that gender wouldn’t matter, per se, in music. And it could just be that anyone
can play any instrument and be seen as just as qualified, regardless of gender. But it’s still
taking a while for that.
MG: Yeah, I feel like I’m not one of the ones who broke the door down. Sheila E., for
example, Carolyn Brandy – there are so many women who confronted major death
threats for playing percussion, playing drums, playing Bata. You know, and there are
changes that are happening. It just takes a while.
AE: What was your first creative moment?
MG: The first song I wrote. It wasn’t until I was older. I’m sure I had other creative
moments. It was for the Blazing Redheads. I was so thrilled to peck out a melody on
piano. Got someone to help me with the chords and then the whole band was playing it. It
was really exciting.
AE: Cool. What would your advice be to younger women interested in percussion?
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MG: Just keep doing what you want to do and don’t listen to the people who tell you to
stop. There are people who will support you. Find those people. Don’t play in bands
where you’re put down. Don’t stay. Find better ones. Don’t stay with a teacher who is
abusive. There’s somebody else you can get it from. Hang in there and look for the role
models and believe in yourself.
Saturday, January 11, 2014, Interview with Theresa Dimond Transcription
AE: So you’re a timpanist for Pasadena Pops, California Philharmonic, and the LA
Orchestra. Can you give me a brief background on your career as a percussionist? What
else have you been involved in?
Theresa Dimond (TD): Well it’s sort of an odd, tangled web. I started out, my first
instrument was accordion. I’m from a big Italian family so everyone has to play
accordion. I started when I was five years old. So by the time I got out of high school, I
played accordion, piano, oboe, and percussion. So when it came time to audition for
colleges, I auditioned with all of those instruments. I had my heart set on USC. They said,
“If you want scholarship money, you must be a percussionist.” So at seventeen, when you
don’t know any better, you go, “Okay, I don’t know any better so I’ll be a percussionist.”
So it was chosen for me. If I was an oboe major or a piano major, well, it just fortuitously
happened that I chose percussion. I studied with Ken Watson, who was a big studio
musician in Los Angeles. He’s most famous for playing the big timpani solo in George of
the Jungle. He did a lot of studio work, like playing on the movie King Kong. So my
background was mostly from the vantage point of studio work. So I got my master’s. I
got my doctorate at USC and during that time studying I picked up a lot of teaching jobs.
In the ’80s, they were looking to fill out the minorities in their teaching faculties. So,
being a female worked to my benefit. Especially having a doctorate and being female,
I’ve landed positions. As far as teachers go, Ken Watson, Dale Anderson, who was
another professor at USC, a very famous gentleman who played on the first Fantasia, a
gentleman who was in the recording world, took me under his wing. Tom Rainey, who
was at USC, took me under his wing. They all generously mentored my career. So I
would get these jobs, like third or fourth chair percussion seats or playing the triangle in a
movie. So I had the benefit of having these great mentors who took an interest in getting
me work and threw me in the deep end long before I was ready for it. But it’s worked out
great for me. So since Dale and Kenny have passed on and Tom has since retired, I’ve
been able to move up the ladder. In the orchestras I’m tenured in, I’m now the principle
percussionist in all those orchestras. So I basically did the “start in the mail room and
work my way up” kind of career climb.
AE: Good for you. I forgot something. Do you think you could introduce yourself? Just
say, “My name is Theresa Dimond.”
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TD: Hi, my name is Theresa Dimond. I’m originally from Arizona and I moved to LA in
1976.
AE: I guess you did answer this, but I’m curious about what got you started in
percussion. What drew you to the instrument over others?
TD: I can go back to my childhood. I had remarkable parents. My father was in education
and my mother was in the medical field. My mother was born in 1928 and when it was
time for her to go to college, she wanted to be a doctor. But her parents said, “No, women
don’t become doctors.” So she went to teaching school because they thought that was an
acceptable vocation. My mother was interested in education for young ladies. I am one of
three sisters and a brother. My father was very interested in music as an intellectual
pursuit for children. Long before people had started talking about the Mozart factor – if
you study with music on, you think better – my father had figured that out. Like twenty to
thirty years before anyone started thinking about that stuff. So my father thought that
children should study music. He could not carry a tune in a bucket. He was tone deaf. It
was painful to listen to him sing, but he did see the benefit. He felt that you needed to
study a melodic instrument and a rhythmic instrument and the piano … so with me, I
played piano and percussion. When it came time for college, each of us became
professional musicians. We could have done anything else we wanted to do, but we just
stuck with music.
AE: Cool. So as a female percussionist, have you ever experienced resistance because
you were a woman?
TD: I have to answer with a yes and a no. I can think of two instances, one being that I
was told I wasn’t hired because the conductor doesn’t like to see women in the
percussion section. So, I mean, that is tangible evidence that being female didn’t work for
me in that instance. I will say that it was devastating to me. I never really thought of it
and hadn’t run into it. I was twenty-five. So I do have evidence that people thought that
way. I also had one fairly serious sexual harassment issue. It was a friend who thought
that since we were friends, the boundaries were a little different. So I had basically – in a
thirty-something-year career, there are two incidents I can point to. I can also say that
being female in a male world works in my favor. Because at times, it’s sort of an oddity.
People think if they can get the girl, it will bring attention to their organization in a good
light. So, you know, people will send me emails out of the blue saying, “Hey, I watched
you throughout this whole performance. How many girls play percussion?” I’ve been
stopped in the grocery store by someone saying they saw me playing. And I say, “Wow,
you know, you need a hobby.” So I don’t know if I can point to one or the other. And
another thing is: I know middle-aged white men who’ve said, “They didn’t pick me
because dot dot dot.” So I think that everyone, in the back of their head, has their own
reasons for why they didn’t get selected. True or not, I don’t know. I have a glass-half-
full outlook on it. There’s prejudice against people who are fat, short, of one color or
another. So it works in our favor sometimes. My experience has been that it has evened
out. Not the populist answer, I know.
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AE: No, that’s great. So, on that note, what advice would you give to younger girls or
women who are interested in percussion?
TD: Well I have big packets of advice. There are lots of things that are important. And I
give the same advice to men that I give to women. And to fat people and to short people.
I give them all the same advice: go to work and shut up. Don’t say anything. Play your
instrument, be helpful, smile, go home. I can tell you many stories of former students of
mine who, after graduating, come to the workplace with me and do things that horrify
me. They say things like “There isn’t enough space, someone needs to move,” and I say,
“No, find a space and shut up.” I’ve experienced after the fact with some of my students
who are professionals now. The second thing is that if someone calls you to play for free,
play for a dollar, play for $1,000, all the gigs are the same. Even if the concert isn’t the
most important thing going on that day, you have to treat it as such. Not, “Oh, I got a
better gig. I can’t make it.” That stuff drives me crazy. My advice to any of my students
is just be a nice person, show up for your job, be quiet, be helpful, and act like you don’t
want to be anywhere else. You’ll find that people really appreciate that. In my thirty-fifth
year as a musician, I’ve made friends with the contract people who’ve hired me and they
have horrid stories to tell of misbehaving on the job. People running over the parking
guards in the lot. It’s really just a matter of being a good person, doing your job well, and
being quiet. The music industry is really kindergarten. If you have the technique to be
performing professionally, it’s just a matter of having a good attitude. Most of the people
I know who are super, super talented – who I know and aren’t working – it’s because
they don’t have what we call “antlers.” They just don’t understand that your feelers have
to be out there and you aren’t the boss. There’s an interesting conundrum in the music
world where people start to think that our bosses work for us. They don’t understand that
we are employed by management. If they say you need to stay an extra hour, you stay an
extra hour. So I’m constantly perplexed as to how these things get flipped around in
people’s minds.
AE: So you have your bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate degrees all from USC.
TD: I’m very loyal.
AE: Can you tell me more about what you studied? What were your focuses in?
TD: Like I mentioned before, I made the decision to be a percussion major when I was
seventeen. I’ve oftentimes wondered if that was the path I was supposed to take. But it
worked out. When I was at USC, the department was very small. There were usually four
percussion majors or six percussion majors, so you were playing constantly, which was
great for me. I’d play from nine o’clock in the morning to midnight every day. I’ve
managed to find my calling in live music. I found my bachelor’s degree to be difficult to
get through. Not impossible, but difficult. When I got my masters, it was because I
wasn’t ready to get out into the world yet. I found it to be easy. I was studying with the
same people. I decided to get my doctorate because some of the teaching positions I’d
been applying for seemed to want terminal degrees. There was more money, and there
23
seemed to be more opportunity with that. So that’s basically why I decided to do it. My
doctorate was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. My teacher, Ken Watson,
played the cimbalom, which is a Hungarian instrument. There is a small amount of
repertoire associated with the cimbalom, so in my doctorate, I said to him, “I want to
learn how to play it.” I spent a great deal of time working with him on the cimbalom. In
the heyday of the film industry, there used to be three people who knew how to play the
cimbalom. Now there’s just me. So I do pick up a little bit of work having known this
specialty that not a lot of people know how to do. But, mostly, I do it because I really
wanted to teach. To share a little anecdotal story with you, I was playing with a small
orchestra in Pasadena and the dean of the school of music at USC happened to be out in
the audience. He came backstage to find me specifically because they have bios in the
program. He read the bio and he knew he knew me, so he found me and said, “Hey
Theresa, you’re doing everything right!” Like I tell my students, if anyone calls you to
teach, you teach. To play, you play. To be a librarian, be a librarian. It’s all money in the
bank and it’s all in this industry. How many people would kill to make every dime they
make in the music industry? A lot. And there aren’t that many that are. I intuitively knew
that I needed to maximize my potential and know how to do a lot of things. But with that
being said, there are many things I don’t know how to do. Like punk rock. Like Latin.
But I’ve found my niche.
AE: Did you do thesis projects?
TD: Yes, I did. My degree at USC, the doctoral degree, requires that you have three
minors and a major. My major was performance, so that meant I had to do four recitals.
My three minors were adult pedagogy, jazz pedagogy, and music history. My thesis was
in jazz – the development of the vibraphone through performance. It traced all of these
people who had played the vibraphone since the 1900s, when it was invented. Odd topic,
I’m sure. Nobody had done much on vibraphone at all, so I had a hard time finding
material. But it was a combination of performance and instrument development.
AE: Are there any defining moments or performances in your career where you were just
like, “Yes, this is where I am supposed to be.”
TD: Yes, once my career was started. They weren’t career-defining but, for example,
when I was not too far out of my college years, I got picked to play with the American
Ballet Theater for about eight or nine years. It was my favorite job. The percussion parts
in ballet are awful. Over-orchestrated, badly written, awful. There’s nothing about the
music that is profound. But just the whole event. All the major dancers dancing was just
something I loved so much. I’ve had many moments where I’ve played the most
painfully beautiful things that have made me shiver. Now I have a brother and a sister
who would both say that they’d rather be shot and left to die in a ditch than play opera.
But I love it. I sit in a chair and I listen to some of the most beautiful music ever written,
by colleagues who are at the top of their game. With people on stage who are at the top of
their class. And I think to myself, “What did I do to deserve this great moment?” So a lot
of it is me sitting and listening to people play their craft. It’s like the Olympics every day.
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AE: I love that.
TD: People are just doing the performance of their life and you’re sharing it with them or
supporting them. It’s like, “How did I manage this?” And then there are those days where
you’re playing with someone who isn’t at the top of your game and you’re like, “This
couldn’t get any worse.” But most of what I do are profound experiences. I don’t know
why I like ballet so much. I was never a dancer. My sister was a dancer. I just really
enjoy it a lot.
AE: I have one last question. What was your first creative moment?
TD: Probably figuring out how to roll over as an infant. I don’t know. I remember one
very bizarre thing. Like I said, my father was an educator. I was the third out of four. He
used to read the newspaper and do comics with me. By the time it was time for me to go
to school, I knew how to read and write. I have this memory. It was between when I was
five years old and six years old because I started playing accordion when I was five. They
sat me on top of a shelf like cubbyholes or lockers with my accordion on. It was me
giving a concert sitting on the cubby lockers of my first grade classroom. That’s the first
musical creative moment I can remember. I remember I had a bad haircut. Because I’m
female, and we remember those things. My mom put me in an ugly dress and I didn’t like
my shoes. And I remember that I was playing accordion. And there’s a picture of it
somewhere in my mother’s home. That’s the first creative thing I can remember, without
remembering what the music was. That’s a very creative thing for a kid to do.
AE: Is there anything else you’d want to add?
TD: Gender, in any sort of career choice, is really a complicated thing. I do remember,
when I was doing adult education, that we were given topics to do for an oral
presentation in class. I [have] to call her a batshit crazy lady – she picked the topic of
gender understanding. How women think. The topic was how women think. For her
experiment, she went out and talked to Middle Eastern men and asked them how women
think. I remember listening to her presentation thinking, “There are so many errors.” My
jaw was on the desk. Like, “What? We just sat through what?” From that moment
forward, I’ve always thought that gender was such a complicated topic because it’s so
organic. How can you separate yourself? I can’t for the life of me figure out how my
husband thinks. I don’t know if we’ll ever figure out the complexities of career choices
based on gender. That’s just me. I tend to be the “glass is half full and half empty”
person. I look at things from all angles. I have a friend in the LA Philharmonic who says
that now that they have screen auditions, and now, more often, when the screen comes
up, it’s a lady who’s won. There’s empirical evidence that screen auditions take a lot of
the bias out. It’s not a bad thing. I think it works in our favor. I sit on our audition
committee and I’ve had many people complain about audition biases. There’s no way to
take the bias out of everything.
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Wednesday, January 22, 2014, Interview with Kate Schellenbach Transcription
AE: Can you tell me what your name is in a full sentence and a little bit about where
you’re from and what you do as a drummer?
Kate Schellenbach (KS): My name is Kate Schellenbach and I’m a drummer. I’ve been
drumming since I was thirteen and I’m from New York City. I’ve played in bands like
the Beastie Boys, Luscious Jackson, and Luna Chicks. All kinds of crazy bands.
AE: When did you move to LA?
KS: I came to LA in 2001, but officially moved in 2003. I’ve been here about ten or
eleven years.
AE: Cool. So what got you started with music and drumming?
KS: I came from a musical family in the sense that my mom played guitar and sang in the
choir. So did my sister. My first musical exposure was church choir. As I became a
young teenager and started getting interested in pop music, junior high school friends
were like, “You gotta check out Blondie and the Clash” and all of these other cool punk
bands that were going on, and as I became more and more interested in those bands,
Talking Heads, I realized I lived blocks from where these people started and were
playing, like at CBGB’s and Max’s, and that those clubs were still around and the bands
were still playing there. There was a band called the Student Teachers playing at
CBGB’s. I was, like, fourteen, and some of us went to go see them. The drummer was
this girl who had been in my choir. So there was this weird connection. Here was
somebody who was a contemporary of mine. She was a bit older and she plays drums in
this cool band that’s playing at CBGB’s. And this band is being produced by someone in
Blondie. Worlds colliding. I went to see this band and they were an amazing, young, pop
punk band. There were two girls in the band, so that kind of put the idea in my mind. I
loved that scene. I loved seeing live music. I wanted to play in a band. Here’s a girl
playing drums. Here’s a girl playing bass. So seeing women playing music, the kind of
music I was interested in, influenced me to want to be in a band. As I started to go and
see more and more bands, I met a lot of like-minded girls who were into New York post-
punk. The British punk that was coming in at the time, you know, you just had to learn
one bass line and you could play something. That’s kind of how it started. We lived in a
loft apartment so we could make a lot of noise. A friend needed to store a drum kit at the
apartment and my mom said it was okay as long as I could play it. So drums just sort of
fell into my world.
AE: How did you meet the guys in the Beastie Boys?
KS: Same sort of thing. In New York, there were a bunch of kids of similar ages, between
thirteen and seventeen, who went to the high schools around the city from these different
boroughs. We’d all go to see the same shows. There was a band called the Stimulators, a
band called the Bad Brains that we’d all go and see. They attracted this younger crowd
26
and you kept seeing these younger kids. I befriended Mike Diamond and John Berry, two
of the guitarists for the Beastie Boys. They wanted me to come and jam with them. At
this point, they were called the Young Aborigines. Doing kind of a post-punk tribal-
sounding band. When we were done with rehearsals, we’d switch up instruments and
pretend to have a punk band. So we did the Beastie Boys as sort of a joke, making up
songs that sounded like hardcore punk. People seemed to like it – it was almost like a
comedy act. We were writing songs about the deli downstairs and about Chinese food
and random stuff. We played at a friend’s birthday party and people were like, “We love
you! You have to record!” It’s just this joke that’s now gone on for, like, thirty years.
AE: I guess that’s just what people like, right?
KS: Yeah.
AE: What’s it like playing with a group of men versus a group of women? Is there intra-
band communication or just a different vibe? Do you prefer one over the other?
KS: I think men and women definitely communicate in different ways. I do think in a
band situation it becomes very apparent. People ask me what it’s like to tour in a band or
be in a band and I always say, if you work in an office and you never get to leave and
you’re sleeping there and having meals there. You’re basically forming a working family.
Communication becomes a really key thing. I find that women communicate differently.
We tend to process things and talk everything out, whereas men are more, like, making a
statement. Either you do it or you don’t and you don’t personalize stuff. With women,
there’s a lot more feelings checks. When I play with Luscious, there’s a lot more
commonality with us in our musical experience. Of course, the thing that defined our
sound and our band is that we grew up in a time in New York, where there were a lot of
musical influences from pop to punk to reggae to whatever was going on in the taxicab
you were in. There was this mish-mosh that keeps coming up in our music and we always
communicated well. Musically, that was our strongest point. But interpersonally, it’s a
different story. If you’re on the road with your best friends, touring, you’re dealing with
personality stuff. We recently got back together and we hadn’t played together or worked
together in so long, but when we started up, we were laughing at the same old jokes. It
was as if nothing had changed.
AE: What kind of resistance have you experienced as a woman in drums? From other
men or women, has anyone ever really bugged you about it?
KS: I think early on, when I first started playing, I felt intimidated going to the first music
stores like Manny’s that were just floors of long haired dudes playing. When I walked in
there, it felt like I was invisible or got people saying, “Hey, what are you doing here?”
but, quickly, someone turned me on to a music store owned by a guy who respects good
drummers and musicians and doesn’t care who you are. He’s more interested in
knowledge and talent. Not race, gender. Seeking out people like that, who supported you.
I saw a lot of bands that had women players, so it didn’t feel so weird to me as time went
on. Occasionally, I’d play a show and I’d get some sexist obnoxious sound guy who’d
27
make some generalized statements like “You don’t hit the drum hard enough.” But that
faded away. Punk is a genre that was very open and celebrated differences, didn’t care
about the status quo. So it was a good place to learn. Trying to be a good musician and
listen and learn and keep my eyes open. I was intimidated to go to the stores so I’d go to
shows and after the shows I’d look around the stage for drum sticks. I feel like I’ve been
pretty lucky. New York is a pretty open place, and I was there during a time [when]
women’s rights were celebrated and encouraged.
AE: What advice would you give to girls and women, or anyone for that matter, who are
interested in drums?
KS: I think what worked for me – I started as a self-taught player and I really just played
along to the music that I liked. And listened and tried to see what was happening. That
worked for me for about ten years. I learned as much as I could. Then I reached a plateau
where I wasn’t progressing and I sought out a teacher. Finding a teacher who’s a mentor
can be especially helpful. Paula Sparrows was her name. She just sort of brought my
playing to a whole new level. She taught me about things like ergonomics and dynamics
and things you don’t necessarily see or hear unless someone is explaining it to you: “This
is why this sounds good.” But I think it’s that if you try not to pigeonhole yourself, listen
to all kinds of music. You might love punk or funk but listen to country or jazz. Like, I
regret not learning more jazz or traditional American music because now if I want to play
that, it doesn’t come to me as easily.
AE: I started out with rock and went a little into jazz. But I wish I had gone into the Afro-
Cuban styles. It’s so cool but feels entirely foreign to me.
KS: I think when we’re younger, we get very didactic about “this is the only cool music
and this pop music is bullshit,” but everything is connected. In funk, you are influenced
by Afro-Cuban rhythms and in jazz and blues and country, those are all connected as
well. If you’re open-minded and appreciative of everything, like, “What is good about
this pop song?” It’s cool to listen and break it down. Is it the dynamics? Is it how the
chorus flows into the break? It’s really about listening and as a drummer, that’s your job.
You know, you’re the glue that holds the band together. So you need to listen holistically
to the whole thing. Even watching some old dude playing in a cover band – but he’s got
chops – it’s worth your time to listen to what he’s doing. Having an open mind. The
drummer can be seen as the band leader. And in a lot of ways, you are. You’re
responsible for the dynamics and the tempo and rhythm. It’s an important job. You have
to give it the respect it deserves.
AE: That was a great answer. What’s the most rewarding part of being a drummer? Any
defining moments where you were like, “Yes! This is what I’m meant to do!”
KS: Well, I think for me, my first favorite band was Blondie. I discovered them when I
was twelve and I had posters on my wall and I remember fantasizing, “What if I was at a
show and the drummer broke his hand. ‘Does anyone know the song?’ And I raise my
hand. ‘I do!’” Cut to twenty years later. Blondie was coming back for one of their
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comebacks in ’97. They were playing a secret show. It was part of the Intel Music Fest.
For some reason, they couldn’t have Clem play with them because there was an exclusive
debut situation. Debbie Harry called me and asked if I could play drums for them. It was
really like this teenage dream come true. For a while, I was playing this cover band in
New York and we had done Blondie night and she had come to the show. So she’d seen
me play. We did like four or five songs. We did one rehearsal. It was one of those crazy
things. It was the highlight of my career. Listening to those Blondie records really paid
off.
AE: What was your first creative moment, as a drummer, an artist, a musician?
KS: I had this drum kit set up at my house. People would crash at my house and I have a
memory of waking up on a Saturday and this girl started playing a bass line and someone
else was playing saxophone and we figured out a cool beat and jammed. I was like, “I
guess that’s how it’s done.” Something comes up and you just lock into a groove. I was
probably fourteen, feeling like, “Hey, I’m holding a steady beat, I’m holding the drum
sticks.” That was also the first day I got a hole in the drum. I thought I had broken it and
didn’t know you could just change the head for $10.
AE: It takes a certain type of person to explore a new kind of instrumentation that’s
uncommon for their gender. Some girls are so afraid to even hit a drum.
KS: My old drum teacher came up in the ’60s. She was a prodigy. There were typical
things about women not being loud or not sitting with your legs spread apart. There were
certain ways ladies weren’t supposed to act. I think drums are intimidating. There’s a lot
of hardware and pieces and tuning. A lot.
Friday, December 13, 2013, Interview with Rachael Rine Transcription
AE: Can you tell me your name and a basic overview about what you do?
Rachael Rine (RR): My name is Rachael Rine and I’ve been playing drums since I was
about nineteen years old. And I spent ten years playing in a band that I built from the
ground up called Cockpit. It was an all-girl rock band. That’s now done and over, but I
get hired to play with other artists. I’ve played with ’80s band Femme Fatale. We did the
Monsters of Rock cruise and stuff like that. I also get hired to do an ABC television
show, or little gigs like that where someone will hire me to play in their music video.
AE: What do you like about drums, and how did you get into all of it?
RR: Music was always the most important thing to me in my life. And drums were just
the pulse of it. It was just what sent chills up my spine. Ever since I was young, I just
loved drums and music. That was always everything to me except my career choice. And
one day I crossed that bridge and that was it. I came to the dark side [laughs].
AE: Why all-girl bands, with Femme Fatale and Cockpit?
29
RR: I never wanted to be in an all-girl band. I know what a challenge that can be. When I
first moved to LA, I started Cockpit. I was looking for projects and people to play with.
And everyone kept saying, “Oh, I know this girl you should play with.” And it just
seemed that everyone wanted me to play with nothing but girls, which I was really
frustrated with. Because I just wanted to play with musicians. It didn’t matter if it was a
boy or girl or whatever. So with Cockpit, I finally threw in the towel and was like, “Fine,
you guys want an all-girl band? Here’s an all-girl band.” I went for it.
AE: So in that sense, how does the dynamic change when you’re playing with men versus
playing with women? How does gender matter?
RR: Where I find the biggest challenge being a female drummer is when you’re looking
for gigs. Because when there’s guy bands, they sometimes question you and you have to
prove yourself twice as hard, at least in my experience. Other people might have different
experiences. But I know that I’ve been questioned by bands that were considering
working with me because they weren’t sure if I could handle myself on tour, or their wife
didn’t like the idea of them being in a band with a hot girl and being in such tight
quarters. All of these other questions come up, which is kind of silly, like hiring a girl at a
doctors’ office because she’s going to be around doctors all day that are guys, or
whatever. It’s still an arena where sexism does exist. The challenge isn’t really being on
tour, it’s people understanding that there’s no difference. The biggest hurdle is that when
I hit the drum, it sounds the same – well, not the same, because everyone sounds a little
different – you know. My playing doesn’t change that. There were other bands I was in
negotiations with and they were concerned that I was gonna take too much attention back
there being the only girl in the band. Things are starting to move out of that mentality,
even though it does still exist. It can get frustrating and it’s actually really silly. It’s so
archaic at this point in time. I mean, we’re able to vote. We’ve been able to vote for a
while now.
AE: Do you find that there are different styles of communication with men and women
when you’re playing? Or, why is it harder to work with women?
RR: Touring. I’ve found that girls – touring can be hard. It can be hard on anyone and not
everyone is cut out for it. But on girls, it can be a little more difficult. I don’t want to
generalize. But, in my experience, some girls just don’t like to tour as much. They don’t
want to live out of a van or in cramped hotel rooms with six people shoved in one room.
Or whatever. It’s a lot of fun but it’s not very glamorous, whereas guys tend to be willing
to rough it more. I love it, though. Even the worst tour, to me, is fun. That’s one of the
areas where it can be difficult.
AE: What kind of resistance have you experienced as a female drummer? Not only from
men – do other women question you?
RR: I think being a female drummer, I have been questioned. What it comes down to is
that I’ve had some friends in the industry come up to me and say, “You’re lucky because
30
you’re a girl. You have it easy.” But I don’t really think that’s the case. I don’t think that
guys have it easier than girls or girls have it easier than guys. I think that we all just face
different challenges in proving ourselves as an artist, you know. For a girl, some doors
might open easier, but when you’re in that room, you have to prove yourself twice as
hard, so it’s just a different challenge. It’s becoming less of a novelty to have a female
musician in rock and roll. But it still is a bit of a novelty. I don’t like going into Guitar
Center and playing a drum kit. I hate it. Because everyone stops and stares at you. And
it’s not a good stare. It’s a “What are you doing? I don’t like it” stare. If I were a guy or a
real brute woman, people wouldn’t look at me funny or twice. But if I turn up wearing a
pink mini skirt and my hair in a ponytail because I’m a very feminine girl, I mean, I’ve
had guys come up to me in those stores and say, “Hey, did you lose your boyfriend?” and
it’s like, “No.” They say, “Then why are you here?” Well, because I wanted to give you a
sale, but not anymore! So yeah, it’s still kind of novelty.
AE: It seems like you have to navigate through different hoops.
RR: You do, but like I said, some doors open, but when you walk in that room you have
twice as much to bring to the plate. So I don’t think it’s any harder or any easier for a
female within the industry. Not actually behind the kit, but in the industry. Because a lot
of being a musician is how you interact with people; if they like hanging out with you.
I’ve seen drummers – or any musician for that matter – that weren’t as good [as me] get
the gig because the band liked hanging out with them. And they could see living in a tiny
room on a tour bus with them for the next two years. So I think that’s important. Within
the industry, it’s just different challenges. Behind the drum kit, I think that obviously I
don’t have the strength that a guy has. But playing drums isn’t chopping wood. So you
learn how to use your body differently. I mean, I’m 5’10”. I’m bigger than a lot of
drummers out there. Because a lot of musicians are shorter or smaller than me or their
limbs aren’t that long, I’m a tall girl. So, you know, anyone’s working with their
challenges behind the kit or their relationships in the business itself.
AE: For sure. What was your first creative moment as an artist?
RR: I can’t remember.
AE: Or, like, any defining moments in your career when you were just like, “Yes! This is
where I’m supposed to be!”
RR: You know, when I was a kid, there’s bands that influence you. And that help inspire
your path and your choice, at least for me, because music was so important. I’ve
definitely had moments working in the music industry [when] I’ve gotten to work on a
recording in a recording session and I’ve been like, “Wow, that is Joe Cocker singing.
You know. Rod Stewart and I are hanging out!” I mean, those people are legends. So I’ve
done this cool stuff. I did a benefit a number of years ago and there was this band that
really influenced me from the ’80s called Skid Row. I’ve been friends with them forever
and we’ve written songs with them. We’re buddies. So we did this benefit for Haiti, and I
remember being on stage and playing with them. That was really cool. My first concert as
31
a little kid was watching these guys play and now I’m on stage playing with them. I felt
accomplished. It wasn’t in front of a huge crowd, even. Just a small club in Hollywood.
But we were playing together to help people in Haiti so it was cool. It felt good.
AE: Can you tell me what it was like coming from New Mexico to Los Angeles?
RR: Shell shock? [laughs] I moved here in late ’98. I started playing drums in Santa Fe.
There’s a great music community there. A lot of amazing artists, and it’s a very nurturing
scene. But I didn’t want to be in another blues band or flamenco band or a band covering
Dave Matthews Band and Sarah McLaughlin. It wasn’t really inspiring to me and I knew
that ever since I was a little kid, I wanted to move to LA. So I got the opportunity and
took the leap. It was scary. I mean, I knew one person. And he was out of town making
an album. I didn’t have a lot of cash, and I drove my little falling-apart car down here
with my drum kit in the back and … jump in the middle of the ocean. You don’t really
have a choice. Sink or swim. A lot of people unfortunately sink. Or they end up moving
back home. It’s a tough city. Especially when you come growing up in the middle of
nowhere. But I had a good head on my shoulders and surrounded myself with really
good, amazing people who made the transition easier. People like Bob Ezrin and the
producer Kenny Aronoff and the late great Randy Castillo, the late great drummer who
used to play with Ozzy and Motley Crue. They were the people I met around me who
looked after me and made sure I was steered in the right direction. They are forever
important to me and I have love and respect for them and that guidance.
AE: What advice would you give to younger girls and women who are interested in
drums or want to play?
RR: For any young girl wanting to be a drummer, my best advice, and I tell girls this all
the time, is don’t be afraid to hit ‘em. Boys are raised hitting things. Well, not raised, but
they’re taking their little dump truck and they’re pounding their little sister over the head,
you know? Boys hit things. Girls – it’s not in our nature. We aren’t born as warriors who
walk around hitting things. For girls, it’s like, “Aww, my hands are dirty. Wash them.”
They aren’t banging their Barbie doll against the cement. So when girls get behind a
drum kit – this is actually something I learned in self-defense classes when I was younger
– is that women don’t know how to hit things. They aren’t hitting things from the time
they grow up. So I kind of applied that theory when I first started playing drums. Girls
don’t know how to hit things? I’m going to hit things. So when you see a lot of female
drummers play, it’s really sad and disappointing. They do this weird kind of hesitate on
each stroke. Don’t do that.
AE: I know exactly what you’re talking about.
RR: Just get in there. Hit it, nail it. When I took my first drum kit home in Santa Fe, I
didn’t know what was a tom or a snare, but I was determined to put it together and play
it. I called a friend to come over to help me tune it up. He came over and took the whole
thing apart. I said, “What are you doing?” and he put the floor tom on the floor and said,
“Stand on it.” I was like, “No, I just spent all this money on this drum kit, working my
32
butt off.” He said, “I want you to know that you can’t hurt it, Rachael, so stand on it.
They are built to be hit.” So he had me jumping up and down on my floor tom and I think
that started me playing from the right perspective. Like, you can’t hurt these things. Just
sink in. Don’t be afraid to feel your kit. They’re built to be hurt. Don’t hesitate, just go
for it.
AE: Even when I was starting out, so many girls are just afraid to hit it.
RR: It’s not in our nature. It’s not second nature for us to be like “Ahhhhh,” but at the
same time, women, more so that men, are ruled by rhythm.
AE: How so?
RR: We are built into a cycle. A woman knows what day of the month it is every month.
We are more in tune with our body’s rhythm than I think men generally are, cause it’s
just a part of our nature. So once you get past the stigma of hitting and not hitting or
being afraid to be aggressive behind a drum kit, that women are more in tune with the
rhythm of our heart, our body, everything. It’s a pretty natural thing once you learn how
to express it through hitting things.
AE: Last one. What are you looking forward to in the future in terms of your career?
RR: World domination! You know, I’m working on a new project right now that I can’t
really talk about cause it’s super-secret, but I’m really excited about it because the songs
we’re writing are really awesome and I can’t wait to play it live. And to see what happens
with it. It has a really good vibe around it and I think it’ll be something special so I’m
excited about that, and, you know, as an artist, it’s a really different climate today than it
was a few years ago and the industry is changing so fast. I’m excited to see where things
are gonna go and where I fit into that.
AE: Is there anything else you want to add?
RR: Let me think about this for a second. Yes. To any other girls out there that are just
starting to play or have the notion to play, you’re no longer a novelty, so hold your
weight with the boys. If you’re cute, you get away with certain things. But it’s better if
you can play. So don’t be afraid to get out there and nail it. Your competition is the
players that are getting gigs out there whether they’re guys or girls. So you gotta be on
par with that.
33
5. Conclusions
Throughout the prior research conducted about women in the music industry who
specialize in drums and percussion, the actual interviews, and the post-interview analysis,
one encompassing idea becomes clear. Female percussionists have had to confront
gender-specific challenges in their musical careers. This is not to say that every woman
has it harder than every man in the music industry when it comes to drums and
percussion. But sometimes, different challenges are faced.
My personal childhood experiences of learning the drums elucidated the tensions that
occur within gender when it comes to percussion as an instrument. Percussion, whether
classical, internationally-influenced rhythms, or rock-style set drumming, is a kinesthetic
instrumentation. Percussion is hands-on, can be high volume, and physical. As explained
in the interviews, people associate the concept of a “drummer” with a masculine male.
These assumptions are not themselves sexist or misogynistic. For example, the stance for
set drumming is open legs. Women are told that it is not acceptable to sit this way, a
social norm that makes it difficult to picture a woman behind a drum set.
These concepts and gender assumptions open up the discussion about why certain people
gravitate toward different instruments and why problems arise as women choose to learn
an instrument perceived as masculine. Overall, the best way to investigate these ideas is
to talk to the artists who have experienced the implications that come along with these
ideas firsthand.
34
6. References
Dimond, Theresa. Interview by author. Video recording. Los Angeles, January 11, 2014.
Goerlitz, Michaelle. Interview by author. Video recording. Richmond, November 29,
2013.
Hansen, Candace. Interview by author. Video recording. Santa Ana, November 10, 2013.
Rine, Rachael. Interview by author. Video recording. Los Angeles, December 13, 2013.
Schellenbach, Kate. Interview by author. Video recording. Los Angeles, January 22,
2014.
35
Appendix
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36
Screenshot of home page from iPhone
Abstract (if available)
Abstract
The relevance of this project exists to investigate how women as artists have navigated musical careers throughout the 21st century. They have shared with me their stories of discrimination and sexual harassment, their career paths and have given advice to future girls and women interested in the drums. ❧ All of the interviewees have emphasized in one way or another that girls and women are still told to be quiet. Women aren’t always encouraged to voice themselves, or taught to be declarative. This is why the process of learning the drums—by nature a loud, physical instrument—does not always make sense to girls. However for these reasons, learning, experiencing and enjoying the drums can be an extremely empowering accomplishment for women, men, anybody. ❧ This project becomes journalistic through carefully planned interviews that I have designed to be as objective as possible. However it is here that I state my transparency in the sense that I admire these women, and am searching for evidence that they have had to navigate careers in percussion differently than men, and have to jump through different hoops in order to be successful in this industry.
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Asset Metadata
Creator
Escher, Anna
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Core Title
Women in the music industry: profiling female percussionists
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Publication Date
04/09/2014
Defense Date
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