I spent the first half of my life exploring inner space - the second half exploring outer space. One day I opened a door and art and music started pouring out.
Here is how it happened.
I discovered painting in the mid 70's. A boyfriend suggested that I had too much going on in my head and needed to do something with it all, "like, why don't you paint or something?!"
"Oh," I said. "Okay..."
I fortunately had at my disposal a small box of paints. In a New York cheap hotel, where I was living, a fellow transient resident ran into my room shouting, "here, you take them. I don't know what to do with them anymore!"
So, I started doing art, relieved to finally have an outlet for my emotional palette.
That went on for a good 25 years - painting, sculpture, found object art, shows, teaching, art friends and studio life. A whole bunch of stuff happened in the world unbeknownst to me. I did not go to bars - I worked in my studio. I had shows, received visitors, ate some food and lived the quiet life.
One day I accepted an invitation to a party. I remember at the time I was fighting fiercely with the colour yellow. I was losing. I realized I needed to take a break, so I reluctantly dragged myself out into the world.
The people at this party were playing musical instruments. There was the head stock of a fiddle sticking out from a ledge off the top shelf of a tall cabinet. I got on a ladder and took it down. It had three strings and a bow. I pretended to play.
Someone said, "hey, I didn't know you played fiddle." "Neither did I!," I replied. "Well," they said, "maybe you should start."
"Oh," I said. "Okay..."
I procured a violin and proceeded to learn the Tennessee Waltz, which I then played for a whole year... a lot.
Then someone said, "hey, why don't you learn something else, like, you could go to a fiddle camp and learn other songs, ya know."
"Oh," I said. "Okay..."
I went to Ashokan, a fiddle camp in upstate New York, and there I heard Cajun music for the first time, which sparked my unequivocal love affair with Cajun fiddling. Two years later, Swamperella was founded – a band devoted to the authentic Cajun sound. After twelve years, Swamperella still hosts monthly dances at the Gladstone Hotel, Toronto.
My pledge to authenticity has afforded me great accolades. Down east, people would say, "you sing just like my grandmother used to." Down south, folks would ask, "now, where all in 'Looziana' ya'll from?"
I am now redefining authenticity for myself. The time has come to sing my own history, with subject matter and rhythms that are truly my own.
Balancing the prosaic with the poetic, my songs are driven by a fascination with contrasts and conflicts; intimacy and awkwardness; the enigma of daily life; the pathos, humour and tenderness found in the modest and the mundane.
Someone then suggested I go on MySpace. I could show some pictures of my work, put up some songs, et cetera.
"Oh," I said. "Okay..."
So here I am...
...Schlanger's vocals on her heart-wrenching song 'Same Old You' are unforgettable.Tiina Kiik, Wholenote Magazine (13-3; Nov 1, 2007)
...Her work is pure poetry, revealing the beauty of what hides in plain sight.Daniel Swift, Music Director, Niagara Symphony Orchestra
