Gaston's blog

https://www.instagram.com/p/Ccv0mh-jWxg/?hl=en Instagram has forced me to think about framing, not only in the image itself but also in the caption. Live performance has always been the focus for me in my musical pursuits, so framing isn’t something I typically consider. The pandemic, along with this class, has caused me to begin performing digitally, which introduces many artistic layers that are not present in live performance. For this Instagram post, there are a few frames going on, one being the caption. As the authors say, “the caption of a picture is a frame that guides interpretation” (Lupton/Phillips 100). Throughout this class my captions have varied, from no caption to long captions that describe what I’m playing specifically. My captions have tended to be kind of blunt and descriptive, but with this post I took a different approach and used one word, “Renewal” to give the listener a clear concept from which to listen. Captioning this piece with a different word, say, “Mourn

https://www.instagram.com/p/CceYOhMDHvN/   Much like photographs, an audio recording is also nostalgic in that “it views backward, and its inclination is to preserve…It promotes calm over change and solid stillness over fluid movement” (Jurgenson 26). I played the first half of the melody to “I Didn’t Know What Time it was”, a ballad by Richard Rodgers, played by jazz saxophonist Wayne Shorter in 1963 on an album called Ugestu by Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers. The recording I referenced represents a time in my adolescence marked by moments of bliss and personal discovery, as my passion for jazz music ignited rapturously. Playing this song brings me back to those memories. Reading about the different aspects of nostalgia and the act of documenting a moment in time has made me consider audio recordings in a new light. Jurgenson prompts me to wonder about what is beneficial and what is dangerous about a recording to me as an artist, as it can keep me bogged down in the comfort of the

https://www.instagram.com/tv/CcMWMyFD9sI/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link There is balance in the interplay between silence and sound, long notes and faster, shorter notes, quiet playing and loud playing. I find myself instinctively exploring this balance in all my improvisations, reflecting how “balance is a fundamental human condition: we require physical balance to stand upright and walk; we seek balance among the many facets of our personal and professional lives; the world struggles for balance of power” (Lupton/Phillips 29). Similarly, my music making requires balance, and I am in a constant struggle to stretch and maintain that balance. My clip also had a subtle rhythm and pacing over long periods of time. This was present in the repetition and development of distinct musical phrases that each had a clear beginning and end. Filming through the water bottle created a distorted texture that is different from the rest of my videos so far. I’m not sure how much it added to my work, but

Hello. My name is Gaston Kaisin and I am a 5th year student at Lawrence University majoring in trumpet performance and environmental studies. I was born in Buenos Aires, Argentina and moved to the states when I was 3 years old. I grew up mostly in Connecticut, where I was lucky enough to spend my childhood in a happy, privileged, secure, and beautiful little town on the coast of Long Island Sound. I fell in love with jazz and the trumpet when I was in 7th grade. So far it has been a turbulent journey with moments of complete bliss, joy, and triumph and moments of despair and sadness. I enter my final term at Lawrence with no plans past graduation other than to go home and figure it out from there. I’m not feeling particularly passionate about my music or my pursuits in environmental studies, leaving me in a weird, uncertain limbo. I’m grappling with questions of who I am and who I want to be. I’m occupying a world that is precarious and uncertain, and I see myself being in a period of