Word 38 (Desert Rhodes)

​A word on the disappearance of my Instagram project Desert Rhodes.

The idea came all at once. A roving outdoor piano sketchbook and inclusive micro-commissioning project. Everyone could write me a piece and I’d go make a video of it someplace in the Southwest. People liked the idea. They sent pieces. There were limitations: the piano was heavy, time scarce. It turned out the Rhodes is a great textural element but not necessarily a great solo instrument. It turned out I don’t like asking people for pieces. I have other ways I’d prefer to call in my favors. I thought maybe I could offer something this way, but I’ve found it easier to meaningfully contribute to the musical community in other, less digital areas.

​More pressingly, it was just time to delete all of my social media accounts. I don’t know what the answer is, but for me at least, it’s not happening on there. The decision to leave social media was complex in a way but also, in the end, incredibly simple. A month or so ago I picked up Jaron Lanier’s book Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now. The arguments were persuasive, but this turned out not to matter, because I saw right away that I’d already made the decision and was only looking for confirmation. I did a lot of arguing back and forth in my head, but the truth was I really wanted to delete the accounts already, in fact I had for years. I had essentially stopped using Facebook by about 2016, and my relationship with Twitter had become unhealthy.

I could write about this more, but basically, these are silly websites and I didn’t want to waste any more time on them. Moreover: they’re addictive, they’re exploitative, they’re cheapening and flattening our lived experience, and they’re fucking up our politics. For this last reason especially I felt compelled to delete Desert Rhodes also. Instagram is, of course, owned by Facebook, a company clearly unprepared for the amount of power and responsibility it now wields, and while I recognize that not everyone can walk away, I can. So I did.

I regret the disappearance of Desert Rhodes. It was a fun idea. People were nice enough to write me pieces, and I don’t want those pieces to disappear. There are still unrecorded pieces that were supposed to be part of the project. So it may reappear in a different medium.
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Then again, it may also be important to simply cut ties and accept sunk costs. Let a project be what it was, and move along. Part of the joy here has been simplifying my digital life and web presence. I have this website, which catalogs and organizes my work. It is not a marvel of design, but at least it's regularly updated, including a weekly blog post. And I have the music, which was supposed to be the point to begin with. I’ve been practicing and performing, but I want to do a lot more listening. I hope this renewed dedication and focus bears fruit that will be of value to others, regardless of the medium of communication. Thanks for reading.