I’ve just returned to Los Angeles after spending three weeks in Oaxaca de Juarez, the capital city of Oaxaca, Mexico. I gave five concerts, ate world-class cuisine, even brushed up against danger. I took so many photos and videos that I’m contemplating how to share it all with you, too…

Oaxaca is a place we can learn from. It is artistic, colorful, revolutionary, and the attention to detail in the design, architecture, cuisine and culture is outrageous. The prime industry are the arts and tourism, so life is juicy and always vibrant. It was my second time there and my love affair with the city has only grown.

Where to begin? I suppose we should begin where my heart is lingering from the entire trip, the Museo del Ferrocarril (The Train Museum).

The Museo del Ferrocarril is one of the portals into the creative underground of Oaxaca, and the venue for the 5th and last concert of the trip. It is an old, unused train station that has been taken over by a collective of artists from Mexico and beyond. Scattered all over the compound are installations, sculptures, paintings, and drawings.

The energy of the place is vibrant and the art is alive and always changing. I was so grateful for the discovery; it was just the kind of community I adore. The collective of artists are of all ages, and they are inspired, determined and committed to their creative work. Yes, please.

I was invited to perform here by Gabriel Coto, a Cuban-born artist who now lives in Oaxaca, by way of Argentina. Gabriel attended my concerts at Café Central the weeks prior, and we became fast friends. He is full of talent no matter what medium, whether it be painting, sculpture, installations or simple sketches.

At my first show at Café Central, Gabriel sketched these images of me on a napkin using a marker:

Beautiful, aren’t they? He sketched six images in total. The one where my hands is close to my face was drawn while I was playing the harmonica.

It was then that I was asked to give a concert at the Museo del Ferrocarril, where Gabriel is a resident artist.

I was invited to give my concert in front of the trains, but it was a bit too cold outside for such a thing, so I performed inside of a giant building. I took this photo while we were preparing the stage, which was a railroad platform on wheels.

They brought out the chairs, they had food and vendors serve food and fresh, warm punch made from figs, apricots and cider. The perfect drink for a fall evening.

And as I performed the 90-minute set, I noticed my shadow against the blue wall in the side, dancing with my every beat. My friend Bea captured all five of my concerts on video, so I’ll share some moments soon.

After the concert I discovered that Gabriel had been creating paintings of me on canvas. I was elated when I first saw them… and I’ve been debating whether I should share them with you since they are not finished, but works in progress. It is a sensitive thing to share a work in progress.

I am going to show them to you, because I want to celebrate Gabriel’s talent now, in the moment. But let’s honor Gabriel and not distribute these images since they are not the finished. (Thank you.)

This first image was inspired by the insert that comes with my debut CD Vol. I: Battle Cry. Face isn’t finished, of course…

And this next one I like very much too. During my last night in Oaxaca this past Friday evening, I posed for Gabriel so he could get the lines of my face right. He even captured my favorite newsboy hat that I’ve been wearing a lot this year.

Ah, Oaxaca… the city kept a piece of my heart, a part of my soul is still there. I’m going to go begin another blog now so I can share more stories and photos.

There is to be said about Oaxaca. The architecture, the political history, the 2006 revolution, the food… oh, the food. The indigenous Zapotec, the colors, the cathedrals, and last but not least, the Day of the Dead.

In the meantime, here is another angle of Gabriel Coto’s studio.

Feeling pensive and electrified by this performance by Saul Williams on Def Jam Poetry. His work here makes the value of art all the more clear. His discipline and research makes me want to learn history on a deeper level. And his insatiable confidence makes me lean in all the more.

My performance and collaboration with David McConville’s at the Morrison Planetarium at California Academy of Sceinces in San Francisco was unforgettable, and is one of my favorite collaborations.

On Thursday, October 14th, David and I presented “Perceiving Home: An Ecological Tour of the Cosmos” to a sold-out audience of 600 at the California Academy of Sciences, as part of their “Nightlife” series.

Here are some statements about the experience:

“In all my years I can’t quite recall another presentation or experience that left quite the same intellectual and spiritual impression – not just on me, but on the whole audience. The unique blend of David’s insightful voice and Christen’s gifted viola playing can best be described as ‘other- worldly.’ Bravo to both of them for a magnificent performance!” ~Christine Arena

“Imagine yourself surrounded by brilliant images of the known Universe in the spherical dome of the Planetarium at the California Academy of Science coupled with Christen Lien’s gorgeous viola playing weaving a tapestry of evocative sound. David McConville’s deep knowledge and delightful humor guides you through the evolution of humanities ongoing love affair with astronomy. From the moment Christen begins to play you are entranced as your eyes take in the constellations…” ~Martine Sweeney

We hope to do this presentation again and again at CalAcademy, or at a digital planetarium near you. If you are able to help make this possible, send a message to christen [at] itsnotaviolin.com.

To learn more about “Perceiving Home” and the technology behind it, click here.

We’re returning to San Francisco for an encore performance!

On Thursday, October 14th, I will return to the world’s largest digital planetarium with David McConville to live-score David’s presentation of of Perceiving Home: An Ecological Tour of the Cosmos, hosted at the Morrison Planetarium at the California Academy of Sciences in Golden Gate Park.

Trust me, you won’t want to miss this experience ~ this is one of my favorite collaborations and concerts of all time.

“Perceiving Home an immersive journey across vast scales of time and space, revealing the systemic interconnections that create and sustain life. Participants will be guided by David McConville on an interactive exploration of beautifully rendered Earth and space science visualizations, illuminating the meaning behind Buckminster Fuller’s admonition to “Start with Universe.” Violist Christen Lien will provide live musical accompaniment with her haunting ambient soundscapes.”

Translation? David will give an interactive tour of the observable universe using actual satellite images (i.e. NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope) that are flawlessly stitched together, while I live-score the adventure with music (new and old songs!), creating an immersive audio-visual experience in the world’s top state-of-the-art facilities. I’ll also perform before and after David’s presentation.

The Morrison Planetarium has a 300-person capacity, and we are doing two shows at 7:30pm and 8:30pm. But don’t let the 600-capacity limit fool you, this event is GUARANTEED to sell out by 6:30pm. Those who want to go for this sonic ride in outer space will have to stay on top of their game to gain entry!

To guarantee that you won’t miss this amazing event, here is what you should do:

1) Buy “NightLife” tickets online beforehand ($12-http://www.calacademy.org/events/nightlife/)

2) Show up before 6:00pm to get in line.

3) Immediately go to the Planetarium Kiosk and pick up a pass right away.

The 2009 presentation of Perceiving Home was mind-blowing, and friends and fans are traveling from far and wide for this show. We hope you join the party at this state of the art facilities. See you October 14th in San Francisco!

As composers, our relationship to sound is intimate.

Explaining the process of making music can be difficult, even impossible at times. There is a magic and power there that we dare not tread and mince into words. Yet we are often asked to describe this process.

When I find other composers, musicians and artists who describe this well, I feel… well, I feel a lot. Gratitude, relief, inspiration, simplicity…

Here are two artists who are both enormous influences on my work explain this mystery of music that we have all experienced, with incredible wisdom and tenderness.

Estonian composer Arvo Pärt explains the notes of “Fur Alina.”

“I’d say that I had a need to concentrate on each sound so that every blade of grass would be as important as a flower.”

In the video below, Björk interviews Arvo Pärt. Quite amazing.

And here is Charlie Rose interviewing Björk. How she describes the “tending of music” is incredibly spot on.

Yesterday I had a photo shoot at the National Gallery of Art in DC for the upcoming interview/story with ReadysetDC. We went to two locations, first was the “La Negresse” enormous cut-out by Henri Matisse. The other was this courtyard, which had AMAZING acoustics. I had to do it, I had to play Unabi… Allyson Behnke from ReadysetDC happened to capture the moment:

(The interview with ReadysetDC will be published next Monday, stay tuned for more…)

I was seduced today, three times.

First, by this quote by Caroline Casey:

“May the entire world fall in love with a woman that changes their heart and may that woman be the Earth.”

::

Then, by this gem by Julie Daley.

I recently read an except from the book A Chromatic Approach to Jazz Harmony and Melody by David Liebman, and wanted to share this with you:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Like all forms of communication, music consists of the interplay of patterns and violations of the pattern. Without order, sound is noise. But perfect order conveys no message, either. The C major scale carries little musical information because everyone knows exactly where it leads. It is the unexpected that sings to us, the note out of the blue, F sharp as the fourth of the C. But the unexpected cannot exist independently of the expectations it frustrates. Freedom needs an underlying order for it to sing.

The clearest example of transcendence and the given is the tension between the diatonic harmonies that form the basis of all Western art music through the nineteenth century and the chromatic elements that slowly encroached. In the early days it was termed the conflict between harmonies and invention.

Harmony binds the notes that follow; chromatic invention is the liberating knife. But the knife cuts keeply. There is no stopping point in the logic of the blade as it drives towards the absolute, which is entropy’s mortal chill – the incommunicate, random whiteness of noise.

Looked at another way, harmony is reason, dissonance the spirit of passion. Diatonic structure sustains a person’s sanity against the awful, chromatic knowledge of mortality. But only the chromatic can touch the unconscious and set loose its shattering forces.”

~ From The Best of Jackson Payne by Jack Fuller (A. Knopf, used by permission)

It has been 5 weeks since my last blog about the Amazon rainforest and indigenous Achuar villages. I thought that I would have written more, posted more… but the muses have their own way of doing things.

I’ve been writing music this entire time, and in the last 5 weeks have written 8 songs. A few of them combine the viola and the harmonica. Some are only viola, some are solo harmonica. An album is half written, and it snuck up on me. So if you have checked for more Amazon blogs, forgive me for not posting more.

There are stories to tell. Lessons that were learned that are born to be shared. My worldview and peripheral vision has expanded, my understanding of harmony, patterns and cycles is increased.

So here is Tale 2 of the Harmonica Gateways:

Tale 2: Shadows in the Mind of Nature

It was the night before we went to our second village of Wayusentza, where we were to spend the evening with the shaman and participate in a healing ceremony. Our time in the Amazon jungle was half over, and we had all become comfortable in our surroundings; we knew how to avoid mosquitoes, we were accustomed to the bats that resided in the roofs of our huts, and were grateful for our rubber boots and for the mosquito nets around the beds.

What is important to know is that at this stage in the journey of this expedition of women, we were all in the midst of growth, at leaps and bounds. Emotionally and spiritually, we were releasing fears, hopes, expectations and assumptions at light speed. We were learning about balance in deep and profound ways.

It was late, and a rainstorm was brewing; we could see the lightning over the canopy of giant trees in the distance. The monkeys and the frogs had grown quiet.

Some of us wanted to capture the magic of the evening, celebrate it, and give thanks to the forest for providing such a supple and adventurous womb for this self-discovery. So Monica, Katelyn, Cassidy, Katie, Whitney and I put on our knee-high rubber boots, our ponchos and headlamps, and ventured into the forest.

Is going into the Amazon at night a dangerous thing, you might ask?

YES. Hell yes.

Let’s not romanticize the jungle, the nighttime is especially dangerous; it is the hour of the snakes and the jaguars, and who knows what else. But we had to go. Because sometimes, you just have to go to dive into the shadows of the jungle and speak what is in your heart.

We were to sing an ancient Lakota (a tribe of the Sioux Native Americans) medicine chant, and through song marinate in the clarity and wisdom, confront fears, process all that we learned in regards to the health and future of the Amazon rainforest and its native stewards, and most of all, sing, sing, sing our gratitude.

Our destination was a narrow bridge not far from the entrance to the jungle. I led the group with my headlamp. As soon as we entered the forest, the rain fell above us; it sounded like pitter-patter of feet on enormous sheets of paper in the sky.

It’s important to walk carefully through the jungle, whether day or night, because the roots of all of the trees reside on the surface; the soil of the rainforest is incredibly poor in nutrients. Though the oldest trees of the rainforest are enormous, the deepest that roots go into the ground is one foot. Most roots lie on the ground or above ground, and the nutrients come from the perpetual decomposition from the forest’s ecosystem and cycles.

So you must watch where you walk at all times. Walking in the jungle at night is both beautiful and merciless.

We approached the long, narrow bridge.

“Let’s go half-way down,” Cassidy said.

I marched in, but too quickly because suddenly I was face to face with a giant red snake. The longest snake I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Snake! Red snake!” I announced. Instantly I was terrified, the fear in my body was outrageous. (And the next day I learned that this was one of the poisonous snakes of the jungle.) The girls did not retreat, and so I quietly said, “Back, back, back, back…” until they slowly backed up. The snake moved towards me, and I suddenly realized just how narrow the bridge was, just how vulnerable we were.

What the f*ck are we doing? I thought. We were fools. And I was the biggest fool being the one going down since I was having the kamikaze stare-down with one of the jungle’s most feared creatures.

But then one of the girls said, “Christen, no fear! It does not serve us.”

I heard her words, loud and clear.

And so I stopped, took a breath, and then looked at the snake and with all of my ninja and Jedi powers, cast away the fear. The snake’s tongue flickered, then it slithered away. It worked. Done and done.

Damn. Damn!!!

“OK ladies, should we be here?” I said. Who knows what snakes were hanging in the tree branches above and around us…

“Yes, we have to do this. Quick, stomp your feet and show your strength.” So we did.

“Christen, you start us.”

I took my harmonica out of my pocket, shut my eyes and took a deep breath… the kind of breath that you feel throughout your entire body. The kind that reminds you of your existence and your most innocent desires that lead you to your greatest courage. I was trembling. Another breath. Then I played my harmonica…

~ ♫ ~ ♫ ~ I played long, meditative notes ~ ♫ ~ ♫ ~

Then Cassidy started the chant. She and Whitney took the lead, Monica, Katelyn and Katie tone in harmonies, and I stopped playing the harmonica and varied between melodies and harmonies.

What happened next turned into one of the most magical musical moments of my life… And though I wish we could have had this moment recorded, I don’t know if it would have captured what I am about to describe.

We were in perfect tune, humming and chanting in perfectly pitched harmonics. We sang loud, we sang with strength and kindness. I remember exactly what I was thinking about when I sang – “We are here to protect you. You are safe with us. It is time. Give us the strength and wisdom to protect you so that you can help us remember all that we’ve forgotten.”

[Because it's after we learn about the Amazon's delicately powerful ecosystem, feel its ancient rhythm under our feet, learn about all of the medicinal solutions the forest has provided the world, and smell that air... that thick, moist and luscious air...The Amazon then becomes real, personal and truly powerful.

And when the bittersweet aroma 0f its shadow sets in... suddenly, we digest the magnitude of the destruction of the multinational oil companies, who badly want this land. (Remember that the Achuar, historically a warrior tribe, is the only Amazonian tribe who has not taken money from the oil companies, nor lost land to the oil companies. But this grows more and more difficult every day.) It is both beautifully abundant and overwhelmingly nightmarish to stand in the middle of the jungle and consider this. It brought us all to our knees.]

Then, magic. We sang well, and about one minute into the song, the air changed. The lighting shifted. It wasn’t the lightning that cracked above us, it wasn’t something tangible… it was like a bubble or a field around us that expanded, contracted, swelled then expanded until it popped and the entire forest felt brighter, as though it could hear our song. (And in case you’re wondering, we were all 100% sober.)

At that moment, the vibration of our six voices clicked and unified into one clear and unbelievably loud voice. I say ‘unbelievable’ because the entire moment was exactly that to me… the thundrous vibration we created shocked me, and it made me quickly look up and out at the forest and the trees. (And please bear in mind that I’ve been a musician for over 20 years, and I have participated in a lot of stunning musical moments… and this experience kicked all of the asses of the previous moments.)

Then we could see eyes of creatures all around us, watching us. But we each believed that nothing was going to attack. The vibration we were projecting was pure and very strong, and there is a contract of holistic reciprocity and balance that exists in the natural world.

So long as we sang, we were safe. If we stopped singing at this moment, no guarantees. I knew this was the truth. I knew it in my bones, I knew it in my DNA.

I looked up at the trees and vines all around us, and I felt that we six women had a window to the mystery. I’ve never experienced anything like that before… the music. The vibration. The swelling. The close creatures at bay. We were in harmony with the natural world, and its natural flow.

And as soon as we finished the song, we all could feel the shadows creep back in. We could hear the animals slither and and move again. All six of us immediately felt a darkness envelop the space, and quickly we knew it was time to get out of the jungle, and fast.

Immediately when we got to safe ground, I asked the other girls if they saw that vortex open up the way I did… did I only experience this, was this all in my imagination? And they did… It was a moment that left us all speechless about how life worked. I mean, dang, now the learning really begins.

The next day we told the group leaders and Achuar about the experience… we received knowing smiles and further insight.

We went to the second village of Wayesentza, visited their sacred tree that was so tall that it single-handedly held up the heavens, met with one of the most revered shamans of the Amazon basin, and I played my harmonica for the children of the village (per the request of the shaman).

Spectacular.

The Amazon rainforest is nature’s abundance embodied. Never have I been around so many living creatures at once, even in other completely untouched parts of the world where I have traveled and other rainforests I have visited. There is an ebb and flow to when life is taken and life is protected. All energy is borrowed, and is to be returned. Time is not linear. Nothing is ‘built to last’ as we have in our culture; everything made is to be returned to the Earth. Everything revolves around one word: Balance.

And in Balance lies Abundance.

The great Aikido master Koichi Tohei explains in his book Aikido, the Arts of Self-Defense:

“Remember that you live always under the protection of some mysterious force.

This force is nature.

True self-defense does not stop with defending oneself against others, but strives to make oneself worthy of defense by nature herself.

It respects the principles of nature.

True practice must be in consonance with the will of nature… true self-defense must be according to the will of God. When your mind and your acts become one with nature, the nature will protect you. Fear no enemy; fear only to be separated from the mind of nature.

In your heart let there be generosity as large as the sea which accepts both clean and unclean water. Let your mind be as merciful as nature which loves the smallest tree or blade of grass. Let your mind be strong with sincerity that can piece iron or stone.

Repay the forces of nature, work for the good of all and become a person whom nature is pleased to let live.

This is the true purpose of training.”

~ Tohei, from Aikido, the Arts of Self-Defense

Photos by Cassidy Rast, Sushila Mertens, Kathleen McIntire, Whitney Kear

When I went to the depths of the Amazon rainforest to spend time with the Achuar tribe, I did not bring my viola. I brought my harmonica, which until this trip was an instrument I’ve had for years, but have not properly explored in any way.

And on this trip, my harmonica and I bonded. Several stories were born from the exchanges with the harmonica, both with the music that came out and the conversations around it. I can’t imagine this trip without it. And so I thought that I could share tales of the Amazon, to you, through what experiences the harmonica co-created.

And I want you to know; I am looking forward to sharing the tales of the Amazon trip through my music, opposed to the writing. I will record some songs on both the harmonica and viola. I need to do this, for words are limiting and cannot fully grasp what I saw, learned, witnessed and understood.

But for now, I’ll write. And if we touch upon a subject that you’ll want to dig deeper on, don’t worry, we will… this is the first of several blogs.

In the untouched regions of the Amazon rainforest resides an Ancient wisdom, spawned from nature herself. I hadn’t considered this before I left; I assumed I would learn from the people and their culture, from the Achuar themselves… but most of what I learned while in Ecuador and the Amazon was not only from people, but from nature, and its patterns. So you see, there is a lot to explain, because the Amazon goes waaaaaay deep.

Tale 1: Dreaming Awake and Wayusa [wai-YOO-sa] Tea

It was 3:30am on the 3^rd day in the rainforest, definitely a magical hour to start a day. We were meeting for the canoe ride to an Achuar village called Kusutkau. Clad in our knee-high rubber boots (a must at all times when you are not at your camp), we loaded the canoes and set upstream to Kusutkau.

This canoe ride in the middle of the night was one of the greatest moments to be remembered. In my tribe of 17 women on this group were women of all generations – and let me tell you, these ladies are grand. Joined by a few Achuar men, and we cruised down the Capahuari River in silence for the entire ride, which I believe was slightly less than an hour long… but I’m not sure of the time… and it’s important to note that the Achuar (and other tribes) have a completely different relationship with time than we do. We see time as linear; they do not. And the main difference is how we look at our past and our future differently. We will get to this.

Back to the canoe ride. Imagine it…. imagine the night. There is fog in the air, but not so much that you cannot see the forest on both sides of the canoe, and if you’re lucky, the night life. The thousands of hidden creatures of the jungle: the pink freshwater dolphins, the snakes, birds, frogs, insects, monkeys, and once in a while, the jaguars… we were on their turf, and were traveling down their quiet river. None of us had ever been surrounded by such an immense quantity of life. The air was moist, and smelled of rich earth, petals and dew.

It was important that we arrived on time in the village of Kusutkau because we were invited to participate in a daily ritual of the Achuar community, which was the drinking of the sacred Wayusa tea and the sharing of dreams.

The Achuar are a dream community – they study and share their dreams with great intention. They believe the future can be written, and that they are the scribes of their own future. They sit as families and communities at the start of each day, and using their dreams as their guiding star, they decide how to act on their current issues and future potentials from what they interpret and learn through their dreams. It is a way of life.

And so each morning, the Achuar wake up at 3am, and drink Wayusa tea (which has hints of a mate flavor, and has no reality-alternating or hallucinogenic effects). They drink many gourds of Wayusa, and as fast as they can. (Gourd = large dried shell from a fruit, and are used as bowls or cups).

The reason for the speedy and high-octane drinking is because the purpose is to purge, to vomit from their bodies what they did not need from the day before. After they vomit, they sit together, share and interpret their dreams, and decide on what to do next on whatever relevant issue of the family or the community.

On this morning, we participated in the ritual. Our group split into two smaller groups, and we each went into a hut of a village family. The hut I entered had no walls, which is very normal for an Achuar hut. Walls were a new concept that the missionaries brought in the recent past.

Inside at the center of the hut sat a man with a giant spear in his hand. The spear was as tall as me. I could not see much due to the lack of light, but I could tell in the back of the home was his wife and two children. The children were doing their homework by candlelight.

In front of us was a giant bowl full of tea. I scooped and drank one gourd. Then two. Then a few of the girls went to the side of the hut near the wooded area to vomit. I drank two more gourds.

I did vomit, and honestly, it was not a big deal. Remember, it was 4am in the jungle, the moon was bright, the stars were out, and the air was cozy. The experience was more of a purge than a vomit-session. Most women did purge, a few did not. On an intellectual and physical level, I could understand the reasons for the purge. It heightened my awareness in a detailed way.

Then we sat quietly, and went around the group and shared our dreams, and the Achuar man interpreted them. I will not tell you the details about the dream I shared, but it was about my music, I will say…

So here’s where the harmonica comes into the story.

At the end of our interpretations, we asked the man many questions… about dreams, about his village, and the Achuar history and way. Then at one point, we asked if he had any questions, and he looked at me, and then said that he had one:

He wanted to know what my music sounded like.

The man said how he was aware that there are many sounds from the world, and he had not heard many. He had only heard Latin music and Achuar. And he wanted to hear mine… So for the first time, I brought out my harmonica.

Between us, my heart jumped when this happened! And it was because I got scared! It was because I did not think I was that good on the harmonica, and I wasn’t sure if I could represent… but I know that to not play, no matter how insecure I felt, would have been a foolish thing to do. So I grabbed my harmonica, sat up, and played a sweet, gentle song for the man and his family, and for the ladies of my group for the first time. The song was a pure lullaby, and was the first time I felt confidence in my harmonica skillz.

Isn’t that silly, that I had a hesitation and a bit of fear? I’m so glad I got over the fear, because that turned in to one of the most amazing musical moments of my life… to be asked to share music with one of the oldest tribes of the Amazon jungle… indeed, with gratitude.

The sun was rising when I played; I remember the violet colors in the sky. There were chickens and chicks wandering freely inside and outside of the hut area – the family was raising them, and the children would shoo them around. Everyone in the village was barefoot. And as the sun continued to rise, I looked out in the clearing and saw Achuar children running in the open field.

When it got brighter and brighter, I could make the face of the Achuar man who had interpreted our dreams, holding his spear in his left hand the entire morning. I could now see his headgear, a thick bandana made of red, orange and yellow toucan feathers. He had striped skirt and two bandolier-looking ornaments on his chest made of giant seeds (or something of the like). His outfit was incredible.

And then as it got a bit brighter, I noticed on his blue shirt a small logo in the upper  corner. It was white. I leaned in and noticed that there was a Nike swoosh on his shirt.

Wow. It’s everywhere.

This was the start of one of the most adventurous days of the trip.

To be continued…

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