Something life-changing is waiting for you in the library.

(A version of this post was published in my newsletter, UofWinds 393)

Some weeks ago, I watched a video of Andrew Huang talking to fellow music-maker Sarah Belle Reid about what led them from classical music to making noise, and both of them tell stories that begin in libraries. Huang talks about how he discovered vinyl records of Morton Sobotnik in his library, which lead into an obsession with modular synthesizers. And Reid tells a story that also begins in a library when and where she found Pauline Oliveros’ Sonic Meditations and how it changed the course of her musical career.

I also have a music + library origin story of sorts, although I never did end up as a musician. Because I came of age before the advent of musical streaming, the only on-demand listening I could summon outside of my own personal collection of music, was either by requesting songs on the radio or through listening at my local library.

The library is how I learned the jazz standards.

In one of my last years of high school, I found myself in a thrift store in London Ontario (the one that was or two doors down from City Lights). I remember being arrested by a particular song being played as background music. I asked the store clerk who did the song and they told me it was Black Coffee by Ella Fitzgerald. I didn’t hear that song again until my undergraduate years when I discovered that I could listen to all of the jazz and classical music that I wanted, as I studied in Mills Library. While I studied, I discovered jazz anthologies featuring singers like Sarah Vaughn, song writers like Cole Porter, and musical genres such as bossa nova.

It was the beginning of my journey of listening to non-pop music. And it was the beginning of my journey towards non-popular music.

I am telling you this just to remind you that the library allows for cultural connection, entertainment, and education that exists outside of seasonal release schedules, marketing budgets, and demographic targeting.

Instead, the library waits for you.

So.

How can we let more people know that there are so many potential connections that can be activated and be made alive from the unassuming quiet inertness of the local library?

How can we create an invitation for our people to follow their curiosity into our collections?

For one, we can learn from what the Los Angeles Public Library is doing with their Creators in Residence program and especially though its Bureau of Nooks and Crannies.

Directory of the Bureau’s Library Experiences
Where to find Collaborative Stories & Mischievous Meditations

You Are a Library (Central Library)
A guided exploration of the departments, resources, and collections within ourselves.

You Are History (Atwater Village Branch Library)
A haunting tale about re-remembering who we once were.

You Are the Future (Vernon Branch Library)
A cutting-edge research project taking place hundreds of years from today.

You Are a Lost Love (Baldwin Hills/Chatsworth Branch Libraries)
A romantic quest to capture words that have been left unsaid.

You Are a Giant (Lincoln Heights/Pacoima Branch Libraries)
An important assignment for big-hearted creatures ready to help a small community.

You Are Not a Book – Any of the 72 Los Angeles Public Library branches
A guided exploration of what it means to belong in a library.

Currently, there are two experience designers in the program. Andy Crocker, who may have developed the Bureau of Nooks and Crannies and Shing Yin Khor, who developed a series “large-scale, hand-painted maps documenting historical and personal narratives from L.A.’s queer and immigrant diaspora communities”.

I can’t wait to see who will be the next artist in residence.

I hope next time they choose a composer or musician.

The day after I saw the video “That’s just noise.” (why we left classical music), I went to check out my local library’s copy of Pauline Oliveros’ collection of “deep listening scores”. There I learned that the library staff person who checked out the book for me had seen Oliveros perform on our campus some twenty or so years ago.

While the library may not have turned me into a musician, it helped me find Pauline Oliveros, who is helping me become a better listener.

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