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After David Rabadi was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder – previously known as “manic depressive” illness — he followed a long path to coping with his illness. Not easily understood by most, the condition prompts swings from deep depression to an abnormally elevated mood.
Though Rabadi’s childhood was filled with joyful memories — house parties, family outings and dinners — he was a curious kid who loved Arabic music and belly dancing. He picked up the dancing from his cousin, Suhair, who was his babysitter. But when he was four, he accidentally caught a family friend who was secretly masturbating. The man then shoved his erect penis into the young boy’s mouth and threatened to kill him.
A few years later, at seven, he had another traumatic experience when his aunt Josephine passed away from breast cancer. His dad decided that he had to go to her funeral. There, with her body was in the casket, Rabadi’s father told him to “Go kiss her goodbye!” Given no choice, the boy walked up close to his aunt and kissed her forehead. Then, terrified, he quickly ran outside. Throughout the lad’s entire childhood, he spent much more time with females. He was a boy who liked playing with dolls and wearing his mother’s clothes. Even then, he knew that he was somehow different.
Once, at a special family party with a professional singer, a cousin grabbed Rabadi’s arm and moved him to the center of the room. “Dance!” she said, and everyone applauded as the boy happily followed the instruction. But another male relative said in a harsh tone, “You dance like a girl. You’re a faggot!” The young boy didn’t even know what a “faggot” was but he knew his cousin was right: he danced in a different way from the other men and boys. From that moment on, he never wanted to dance in front of a crowd. And if he did, he tried his best not to “dance like a girl.”
During this PrideMonth, it’s important to consider the mental health issues prompted by denying one’s own sexuality.
Today, Rabadi is an inspirational speaker — a result of learning how to manage his disease and sexuality. He addresses diverse audiences, ranging from high school and college students to business professionals and mental health experts. In his talks, he stresses the importance for each of us of being honest with ourselves by facing our realities.
As Rabadi tells his listeners, “Accepting one’s reality is crucial to living a life that’s happier, healthier, more satisfying and productive.” This is further highlighted in his book, “Live Your Truth: Live To Be Yourself or Die As Someone Else” which came out a few years ago. It describes his struggle with a bi-polar condition that emerged as he confronted being gay in a world which condemned his gayness.
Rabadi’s path to this enlightenment didn’t come easily. His own self-healing involved accepting his truth that he is gay. Instead of denying this mental and emotional reality, this encouraging speaker now acknowledges and embraces it. To quote from a speech of his, “My message to each of you is, don’t feel shame for who you are. For example, if you discover that you have some mental illness, don’t be embarrassed to ask for help. Or if you’re struggling with sexuality, give yourself permission to discover your own reality.
“You’ll make wiser decisions if you don’t automatically judge but actually listen to your authentic self. Then, after acknowledging our truths, we can start to discover the approaches — even medicines, if appropriate — that will allow us to live and enjoy our lives to the fullest.”
When this Arab American’s parents came from Jordan, they brought along two older brothers and a sister. Born in Yonkers, New York, the child became a first generation Arab American along with his younger brother John. His father was an example of a strong work ethic and a willingness to do whatever was needed. He worked two jobs, one in a factory and the other as a cab driver while his mother stayed home to raise the kids.
As Rabadi became a teenager, he realized that he was indeed attracted to other males. Being a teenager is challenging for anyone, but being a closeted Arab-American is even harder. Homosexual acts are forbidden in traditional Islamic cultures, sometimes punishable by death. Jordan and Bahrain are the only Arab countries where homosexuality is legal.
Even so, most LGBTQ people in Jordan face social discrimination. Until 2013, it was even legal there to kill a homosexual in a so-called “honor killing.” Today, Rabadi accepts his reality as a gay Arab-American. He no longer feels embarrassed for having Bipolar One disorder. Instead, he now functions effectively, and publicly, as a published author and journalist. Having learned the positive value of accepting himself, he now actively spreads this awareness as an inspirational speaker for a wide range of audiences, from students to adults, Arabs and Americans and many more.
Q: How old were you when you first realized you were gay? Describe the moment you realized it and how did you feel?
David Rabadi: I was seven years old when I realized I liked boys. I had a friend that was the same age and one day we were in his room and he asked me if I wanted to see what he saw his older brother do with a girl. I said ok. He told me to lay on the bed and then he got on top of me and started humping me. I felt a sensation in my stomach and I immediately liked the feeling. At the time, I didn’t know that it meant I was gay. As I grew older, I learned that I was gay but kept it to myself because I was told that it was against God’s word and I would go to Hell.
Q: Once you understood it, how long did it take to develop relationships?
David Rabadi: Once I understood that I was gay, it was very difficult for me to form relationships with boys because I’m Middle Eastern. In our culture it was the deepest point of shame and dishonor. Gay people in the Middle East are put in jail and even killed. I had a lot of fear so I suppressed my sexuality for a long time. I did engage with gay sex but never had a boyfriend.
Q: Given this revelation, how did it impact on your bipolar condition. I assume it had expressed itself as you went through your teen years. Describe when you realized you needed therapy/medication?
David Rabadi: I believe because I was suppressing my sexuality, it manifested as Bipolar disorder. I firmly believe you can brush anything off your shoulders but all that’s doing is changing its location. It wasn’t until I was 30 years old that I was diagnosed with “Bipolar One.” Before that I experienced shifts in my mood, but I thought it was normal and that everyone experiences it. I was very productive. I graduated college with my BA in theater and communication. I worked full time. I thought I was perfectly fine except for my denial of my sexuality.
Q: When did you start your book? Was it a result of speaking out or did it come first?
David Rabadi: I started writing my book after I came out as gay and was diagnosed as Bipolar. It took me eight years to write my book. I had to become comfortable in sharing my personal experiences and the trauma endured.
Q: What did you feel the book needed to include to be inspirational?
David Rabadi: It was important to me to share my story so I could be a person that faced adversity and triumph. I am the first Jordanian to come out as gay in the Arab community in Yonkers. I know I’m not alone. I’ve met other gay Arabs who are still scared to come out and they tell me I am an inspiration. And in regards to sharing I have bipolar, there is a big stigma when it comes to mental illness. I’m on a mission to make mental illness look so good everyone wants it. It’s time to live our truth and not be embarrassed or feel shame for who we are and what we struggle with.
Q: Describe your talks and what’s happening on that front?
David Rabadi: I go around to different universities and organizations and share my story. I ask the audience in every talk I give, “Do you want to live to be yourself or die as someone else?” Life is precious and we only live once. So do what makes you happy. And know that living your truth is the biggest gift you can give yourself.
Q: How do you keep the bipolar condition under control nowadays after your revelations?
David Rabadi: I have learned to keep my bipolar disorder under control. I have to take my medication every day. I have to exercise to build endorphins. I see a therapist every two weeks and it’s a great way to keep things in perspective for me.
Rabadi is represented by the All American Entertainment (AAE) speakers bureau:
https://www.allamericanentertainment.com/
Video sample of Rabadi’s message:
https://youtu.be/AanDuF21ur0?si=yoLXvrv-FmoIxUsy
Film: Back to Black
Director: Sam Taylor-Johnson
Cast: Marisa Abela, Jack O'Connell, Eddie Marsan, Juliet Cowan, Lesley Manville, Sam Buchanan, Pete Lee-Wilson, Thelma Ruby, Renee Matilda Thorpe, Ryan O'Doherty
Evoking classic R&B, the late Amy Winehouse emerged as a celebrated new stars by making old music sound fresh. She possessed a deeply soulful voice which she used to sing songs of love, heartbreak, and struggles with substance abuse, as in her Top-10 hit "Rehab." Winehouse sold 16 million copies of the LP Back to Black" and won big at the 2008 Grammy Awards, taking home Song of the Year, Record of the Year, and Best New Artist. All that success was overshadowed by the Brit’s personal troubles, which, according to MTV News, included an arrest for drug possession — there was a viral video of the singer smoking what was reportedly crack cocaine — and an emphysema diagnosis.
Winehouse's demons tragically got the best of her. According to The Guardian, authorities were summoned to the singer's north London home in July 2011, where they found her dead at the scene. Winehouse was reportedly a heroin user, but a post mortem inquest pinpointed a different cause of death. According to “The Independent”, a London coroner found no drugs in her system, ruling that the singer died of alcohol poisoning following a period of three weeks of sobriety. Winehouse is believed to have consumed 416 milligrams of alcohol per deciliter of blood, well over a fatal level of 350 milligrams. She was 27 years old.
This complicated history has been fodder for articles, books, a notable documentary and now a feature film, "Back to Black". The movie’s title is taken from the hot album of the same name. Directed by 57-year-old Sam Taylor-Johnson, herfeature film debut was 2009's "Nowhere Boy," based on the Beatles' singer/songwriter John Lennon's childhood experiences.
Taylor-Johnson’s star for "Back to Black,” Marisa Abela, made her TV debut in 2020 with leads in the Sky One political thriller, "COBRA" and the BBC Two/ HBO office drama, "Industry." Abela appeared in the 2022 films, "She Is Love" and "Rogue Agent." In July 2022, she joined the cast of Greta Gerwig's "Barbie" (2023). Then the actress starred as Winehouse in this biopic.
This Q&A comes from an appearance made by the duo at the Museum of The Moving Image shortly before the film's May 17th release.
Q: This is a remarkable story and one that, in some ways, is privy to when she was alive. For each of you, what moved the dial from this is a remarkable story to this is a remarkable story that I need to tell?
Sam Taylor-Johnson: When Alison Owen, our producer, called me and said, "I'm looking to make the story of Amy Winehouse, which would be interesting," I felt like I couldn't say "Yes" quick enough. After I said so, I suddenly processed the enormity of what I was taking on. It felt like it had to be made from [Amy's] perspective because, by living in London around the time when she was alive, I watched how her life was dissected and pulled apart in the tabloids and similarly post-death. I felt like going directly into her perspective. It was almost like allowing her to tell her own story through her words and her lyrics. It felt like a timely thing to do.
Marisa Abela: Basically, I got a call from my agent who said they're doing it. I was about 13 when "Back to Black" came out, so I was aware of her music. I was singing the songs, but when you're singing “Love Is A Losing Game” and you're 13 years old, it doesn't mean that you really understood it fully. That was my understanding of Amy [at the time]. Then, because of all of the tabloids and the images and stuff, I knew of her in that way. So, I said, "Let me think about it." I was then in front of Sam Taylor-Johnson and Nina Gold, an amazing casting director in London. I knew they were being quite specific about who they were seeing, so I just didn't want to make a fool of myself, essentially.
ThenI started watching footage, the documentary, interviews about her life – things that really were quite telling [about] who she was as a person. There was just this thing about her and that carried me through the entire process I was watching. And there was this magnetism, this intensity, this deep well of feeling, emotions and intensity, that I was so drawn to. I felt that we'd drawn from Amy, herself. It was all there in her music. And for the people who still listened to her music often, this is for them. In the narrative around her life and death, I felt that what we'd lost really came through, but it seems like there's a double-edged sword here.
Q: There's so much media and coverage, so many perspectives to sort through. Talk a bit more about your process and how you blocked out the noise and chose to privilege us with her perspective with what was there?
Sam Taylor-Johnson: It was important from the beginning to just block out the noise. There was a lot, especially when we were filming, and it became louder and louder. The louder it became, the more determined I was to just keep driving forward with it through her eyes and to uphold her. Our press are quite famous for pulling down anything that might seem to be successful in any way. It felt like those voices saying we need to protect her legacy were also the ones who pulled her apart during her lifetime. That emboldened me in a way to shut those voices out. The decision around how and what sort of film was going to be quite quickly came into place.
When I sat down with Matt Greenhalgh, who wrote the movie, I said, "If we are going through her workstyle perspective, with "Frank" and then "Back to Black," obviously those are the keys to this film. "Back to Black" really is a love story and tells us everything within it. It became our framework. I knew that that was difficult for a lot of people who had a lot of opinions and judgments. I felt like her declaration of love and the power of that love was important to uphold in order to understand the creative journey of "Back to Black. In a way, we went into her perspective saying, she loved her father and she loved Blake: therefore, that's our view. We still see some of the things that are highlighted in the documentary that people feel strongly about. They're still part of our film, but they're not seen through the lens of judgment. It was quite freeing to stay in her shoes on that journey.
Q: This being a love story, you think immediately of romantic love. But the relationships that I was most struck by were those she had with her family. Talk a bit about choosing actors and having them light up those roles?
Sam Taylor-Johnson: With her Jewish grandmother, it was clear — during the research and hearing the stories from the family and others — that she was so much a part of the fabric of who Amy was, through Grandma Cynthia’s style and love of jazz and music. So it felt like, "Okay, this is worth going further into and strengthening that relationship." But when I went to Lesley [Manville] initially, she said, "Oh, I don't know if there's enough on the page for me." I said, "Look at it like this is the fabric of Amy." Once Lesley came on board, we then wrote more scenes because she was just so exceptional. We just honed in on those relationships that we felt were really important to the narrative of this story. Obviously, within -- I don't know how many minutes it was, I've forgotten --- so much had to be dropped by the wayside. For me, as a storyteller, I have to just find my path. The Winehouses -- Cynthia, Mitch, and Janis — plus husband Blake were on a path.
Q: Talk a bit more about the music. Obviously there's a great blueprint here. Did you have to make difficult decisions about what songs were included?
Sam Taylor-Johnson: I’ll start, but I want Marisa to take over on this because I'm talking too much. What I had quite early on was one of her playlists. On that playlist were The Specials and Minnie Riperton. It was quite a gift to have that. Amazingly, of all the things that were written that weren't Amy's music, we managed to have access to it. But when I started the movie, I had all the music rights from Sony and Universal. I didn't have to have approval for anybody. I could just make the movie I wanted to make. Matt wrote very specifically for the songs, almost like it's a musical in the sense that it belonged to the narrative structure. You couldn't choose "Love Is a Losing Game" and switch it with "Stronger Than Me." It really was laid out that way.
I'll let Marisa come into this because I just want to say, when I met Marisa for the audition, she said, I remember, "What about singing? I'm not a singer." But Marisa sang that entire movie. Every song you hear. So from the position of declaring she couldn't sing, what you saw is very contrary to that. Okay, you can talk about that...
Marisa Abela: I think what became clear was, as I was reading the script more and more, and watching more and more footage of Amy, was that these albums are so iconic and incredible from a songwriting perspective as well as a musical one. But what was so incredible about the performances I was watching was that they were completely different every single time. If she was in a bad mood – and she was often in a really, really bad mood – you wouldn't get half the song from her. If she was in a great mood, she was singing all over the place, amazing riffs. To certain members of the audience, this is the thing that made Amy a live performer.
What weirdly felt like the most authentic choice was to be able to use my own voice to make whatever choice came to me in the moment from a purely impulse perspective as an actor. What was inspiring me at this moment? Is it that I'm looking at Blake during "There Is No Greater Love" and I'm so overwhelmed with feeling and emotion that I want to hold on to a specific sound for longer so that he can hear me through all of those decisions? In the same way, the first time you hear her write one of her own songs with "What Is It About Men," I wanted to be able to think about each line. How am I formulating this moment? you get to see the behind-the-scenes of the creation of a song. That's a really beautiful thing. If we were cutting to the studio recording of "What Is It About Men," for example, you couldn't have that scene of Amy sitting on the bed writing it for the first time, getting mixed up with certain words.
I basically felt I needed to get as close as possible to something that sounded as recognizable as possible to one of the most recognizable voices that you would believe in. The truth is, if you listen to them side by side, I'm sure there are huge differences. But it doesn't matter as long as you believe what she's saying and as long as you believe what she's feeling. That, to me, was always the most important thing as an actor, obviously. It's the intention that matters. Process-wise, I trained very hard and also learned to play the guitar. I listened to all the people that I think she would have grown up listening to. As Sam said, we had lots of playlists of hers.
I was aware that she grew up listening to Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughan, Diana Washington, Ella Fitzgerald, Lauryn Hill, Ray Charles. I just surrounded myself with that music and was singing along to it all the time. Then I was using the techniques I was learning with my singing teacher that were Amy's tecjmoqies. We have a different face. She has a bigger jaw than me. She had a different nose to me. We use different resonances. So, it's different. But the intention is the most important thing. I was training for two hours a day, every day, over the four months with my singing teacher.
Q: There's so much to dive into with its emotionality, but you touched upon something that I wanted me to talk to you about – creating these scenes like Glastonbury, the Grammys and things that we have enormous touchstones for beyond Amy's experiences. These are media events that happen all the time. So practically recreating these scenes, which you do so successfully, can you talk more about them?
Sam Taylor-Johnson: Oh, I'd love to because I'm so proud of Glastonbury. When you see that big open-air festival, we shot it in a room not much bigger than this theater. We just had brilliantly creative teams working on this. Glastonbury for the rest of the year is just a field. So all of those stages and everything, we had to recreate and film it. I had an incredible sound crew. What we created, it took months to get that sound exactly right. Then the Ronnie Scott scene early on. That was the only time I ever saw Amy play, in a young, up-and-coming Voices of Jazz. How old was she? Probably 19 or 20. It was at Ronnie Scott's. I used my memory of what it felt like being in the room with her to recreate how that would have felt. But yes, a lot of it, like the Grammys, we had YouTube running alongside what we were filming to try and emulate it as much as possible – like the same camera angles. Marisa's performance, as you can see, was absolutely spot-on. Every finger movement was incredible. So it was fun. It was so fun to recreate this. And, it's fun to watch it.
In 2015, when Stephen Colbert launched his version of the Late Show — taking over from David Letterman — one of his first moves was to invite musician Jon Batiste and his group, Stay Human, to provide the nightly musical accompaniment. In 2020, he co-composed the score for the Pixar-animated film “Soul,” for which The New Orleans native received an Academy Award, a Golden Globe, a Grammy and a BAFTA Award (all shared with Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross). He has garnered five Grammys from 20 nominations, including an “Album of the Year” win for “We Are” in 2021. With that under his belt, he left the Late Show in 2022, to develop his “American Symphony.”
That orchestral creation became the basis of director Matthew Heineman’s documentary, “American Symphony.” — released September 2023. This doc records the process of Jon Batiste composing his first symphony while his partner, writer Suleika Jaouad, is battling the return of her cancer. Netflix and Higher Ground Productions are distributing.
Heineman’s inspiration and fascination with American history led him to early success with the documentary “Cartel Land,” which was nominated for a Best Documentary Feature Oscar, a BAFTA Award for Best Documentary, and won three Primetime Emmy Awards.
In 2009, the 40-year-old founded Our Time Projects, Inc., his New York–based production company, which would later release “Our Time,” his first documentary, about what it's like to be young in America. His 2021 film “The First Wave” received the Pare Lorentz Award from the International Documentary Association, was shortlisted for an Oscar, and was nominated for seven Emmy Awards, winning Best Documentary, Best Cinematography, and Best Editing. “Retrograde,” his 2022 film, was nominated for the DGA Award for Outstanding Directing and won an Outstanding Editing Emmy.
This piece is based on the duo’s appearance at a screening in The Museum of Modern Art.
Q: Jon, the film is an incredible look at the intricacies of the creative process. What is life like living inside your mind? You hear all this noise, you're singing, improvising, and then, it just needs a little more than that.
Jon Batiste: Hello. I'm always thinking about things that I don't know that I'm thinking about. My subconscious mind is always going.
Q: The known and unknowns?
Jon Batiste: It's happening and I feel something churning when it really gets going and then it diverges. It's so hard to make some visuals more than not. Something I can't explain, but the subconscious is working and there's things that are happening in the present -- and then both are working. They come together in moments and that's typically where the music comes from.
Q: Matt, what's it like to have an artist like Jon as the subject, the protagonist of the story?
Matthew Heineman: I think we all owe so much to them for opening themselves up during such an unbelievably vulnerable and sensitive time of their lives. I've always tried to approach filmmaking in a very improvisational way. Every film I've ever made is something completely different than when I started. And this film is no exception. It was really fun to apply that ethos of filmmaking to one of the greatest improvisers in history. And to dance with him... in both the macro sense of trying to structure this story and in a micro sense, within each day shooting and within each shot.
Q: There's so many moments of profound insight in the film from you, Jon and the people around you -- through your relationships with them and your creative process. At one point you talk about genuine acceptance and gratitude which requires so much humility and self-awareness. How did this function in your work?
Jon Batiste: The thought of being great is a dangerous idea. When you're creating music in the most pure sense, you become a vessel of something that you don't fully understand and couldn't ever fully grasp. The music is a way to point at it and share it. That's always going to be greater than you. Now, if you get used to functioning in that stream of consciousness, that creative place that all the ideas come from, you can start to think that it's you. That's where self-awareness comes from. Even though I have so many ideas all the time, and I'm always creating. I've always managed to make it happen. I can lose that one day, anybody can, because it's not me. That's an important part of the work. That's how it functions in the work. It's the most crass and direct sensibility of thinking about how it functions is, you ain't great, bad. You’re just a vessel. If I can stay in that space then the world will be great.
Q: Matthew, can you talk about how different it was in making this film from making some of your others. Being an artist yourself, right, and witnessing, filmmaking is really a profound act of witness. Jon's process and Sulaika’s relationship, talk about what it was like to use your craft to show us their journey.
Matthew Heineman: Obviously, if you look at the films I made, this is definitely different yet in many ways it is the same. I approached it with the same fear, I think, that I approach every film. Am I going to fail? How am I going to do this? We have an amazing team, obviously, making this film. But it was an exorbitant film, and we had to really commit to this process. At first, Sulaika didn't want to be part of the film, apprehensive of being seen as the sick wife in this story. It took a lot of trust building with her and with Jon to make them comfortable with my very immersive style of filming. We were shooting 12, 16, 18 hours a day, seven days a week for seven or eight months. We shot 1500 hours of footage. It was a real commitment.
After about a month or so, we'd all go over to each other and were like, "If we're going to do this, let's really truly do this and commit to this. The thing that probably scared me the most was depicting the artistic process, depicting what Jon just described, this sort of magic that he just channels as a vessel as he said. I think that moment after he dedicates the song to Sulaika, we hold on that shot for 92 seconds or however long it was. In most films, it's a strange choice to hold in silence for so long. It was like Jon literally writes the story for us. With all this weight on his shoulders, his love for Sulaika, how he's changed life into art, and art into life. It's all there on his face, his hands, his left and right hand. I just love telling stories without words, telling stories with emotion — and shooting based on emotion.
Q: When you talk about shooting and capturing emotion in the film, there's just so many moments. There's things that you can tell about couples that typify a relationship, where you can see the relationship without having to describe it. These two are just in it. Everybody knows how much you love your wife, which is really good.
Jon Batiste: That's one of the things I noticed. I was like, “Man, that's a good choice. Yes indeed!” I'm always joking around in that situation about the reality of not knowing if she was going to make it. All of the things that were going on outside the hospital and in the hospital room, that element of the relationship is like a force field. I didn't realize what that would look like and how much that's something that insulates us from the harsh realities of life. It's really deep, the certain things in your relationship, value systems, humor, and creativity.
They all become these means of survival. That's really one of the things that we picked up on and one of the things -- from the beginning -- that really brought us together and helped us weather a lot of things. I noticed that really did come across, as Matt and Lauren, as filmmakers and the production team, are finding a way to notice that in the footage and then carry that narrative thread throughout. That was powerful, because it also ties into the way that the themes of the score and the symphony tie in with the many themes within the film. It was very powerful to see that depicted through this truly masterful work by this team.
Q: Matt, it takes 14 minutes before the first few notes of what we will eventually discover is the beginning of "American Symphony." It's just so great, it's really subtle. It really has wonderful touches about the actual concert at Carnegie Hall and what that must have been like. Jon is just getting started and then the power goes out. Only people on the stage realize exactly what is going on. Then Jon literally plays the power back into existence. Jon is literally at the piano and conjures electricity. How did you deal with that situation? What were you doing? You've got folks with cameras all over recording it all.Matthew Heineman: I saw that Steadicam and I was like, "That's not even sending in the camera to get that shot. I definitely was like, "Wow, this is great." To be honest, it was very confusing. There's confusion with Jon and confusion about what is happening. The lights are on, but electronics are not on. Oh, all the recording devices are off. It had been a pretty long battle with the folks at Carnegie and various other entities to get a steadicam on stage. For me, it was really important to see that experience through Jon's eyes, to hear the creak of the bench, to see the sweat on the brow, to see the crowd from his perspective. That's the man who literally -- I can tell you -- walked into Carnegie Hall, and was up there to date. Thankfully, I won that battle. And if it wasn't for that Steadicam, that whole experience wouldn't have been recorded. The shotgun mic on the Steadicam is the sound source for that moment and it's a beautiful moment. It's so indicative of Jon. He takes a second, breathes it in, and he's like, all right. Well, I'm impressed. It ties the film together in a really beautiful way.
Q: Jon, what was that like for you? Sulaika is out in public, for the first time in almost a year, right? You have gotten really tough news about this. You enter the space in Carnegie Hall, and in a way, the entire hall shifts with you. You're in this resplendent suit. It's reflecting light in all directions. You walk into Carnegie Hall, all eyes are on you. You're doing your thing. Then, power cuts out. There's still this fountain of joy coming from you. You're talking to all these artists about what we want them to bring to the process. How did you make the decision that we're going to go on?
Jon Batiste: The great Joe Salem, the drummer who I played with since we were in high school, he's from Pennsylvania, and wears a cowboy hat. Joe has noticed this theme, it's almost like a tradition from every show that we've played for almost 20 years. Something always goes wrong [laughter]. Something always breaks or somebody's pants split. The bass drum pedal will bust. Something will happen, the mic will shut. There's a real beauty to that. Furthermore, I think there's an actual purpose to that. There's a divine logic, a cadence that's meant to be a part of my work.
Often, I'll create things in these moments within the composition. Nobody on the stage will know what will happen in specific moments. It's designed for us to show up in a moment together. [So, there are blank bars on the page.] It will be even more abstract than blank. It will be creating a scenario. Sometimes that requires me, with this piece that I did, we had to create a notation that's different to standard notation of music in order to get everybody to know it. Okay, this is the scenario. Now that we're in the scenario, let's see. That was one that I didn't initiate. But the beauty of it is now that piece that has improvised composition. The spontaneous composition of the moment will now be in "American Symphony" from henceforth. When we perform it again, this piece is now so. This is the beauty of these things, that happens. Discovery is always greater than adventure [applause].
Q: Your performance is seamless and comforting and yet so profound. It's really obvious that you as the vessel, like you said, developed from clearly a strong faith.
Jon Batiste: The present is all we have. What we see in the present oftentimes doesn't indicate the full range and majesty of the truth, of being, of who we are. Many times people see a person, but they don't tell the good about his color. They see somebody and there's so much in all of us. I have faith in people because there's such a transformative power that people have within them. Beyond that, the creator of all things, the God of the universe, has created this planet and life force. This moment in the celestial expanse of time, I have this measure that keeps changing and expanding. It's un-understandable. It's unfathomable. That in and of itself gives me faith that we can't grasp what is, and we can't know what will be.
What's left? The transformative power that we have within us, the trust and belief in the thing that created this whole existence as we know it... We can measure it to a limited capacity. What we create and make so infectious, is so inevitable, so true and profound, real and moving. It's drawing us in and speaking to something greater than ourselves. It's showing us a way to something else that we can't even articulate. What a beautiful thing to do, share and be in the world. I could go on and on about faith, but I'm just grateful that God put it in me to share a message that will uplift and help people.
Bayona (L) & Vogrincic