Wendel Patrick’s first memory is actually a dream. It was a recurring dream that he had for years, well into adulthood. It started when he was about 2, maybe even younger. The dream had no people in it. No light. But there was a steady sound—a beat. Something about that beat made Patrick realize he wasn’t alone.

“And then at some point, the rhythm—the thing that was repeating—became more intense and rapid, and then it stopped,” Patrick says. “And there was nobody else. I knew I was by myself.”

When he could find the words, maybe he was 3 or 4 by then, he asked his mother about the dream. She burst into tears.

Years later he would find out that he had a twin who died in childbirth. The twin’s name was…Wendel Patrick Gift.

This all becomes a little less confusing when you learn that Wendel Patrick was born Kevin Gift. For the first part of his life, everyone knew him as Kevin. He studied classical piano and earned a master’s degree in piano performance from Northwestern University School of Music. But he also started experimenting with electronic music, improvisation, and hip-hop. He bought mics and drum kits and samplers.

When he released his first hip-hop album, folks who knew him only from classical music were confused. He felt a need to distinguish the two sides of his musical life. So for the hip-hop persona, he would go by Wendel Patrick, after his brother, whose presence he always intuitively felt. His classical music persona would stay Kevin Gift.

At the time, he didn’t realize how blurred those two identities might become. That he would become a famous hip-hop producer and musician. That he would bridge the two worlds by bringing hip-hop into the hallowed halls of Peabody Institute. And that it would be a very long time before he would play classical piano again.

Another one of his earliest memories involves the piano. He and his family were living in Venezuela. His father was a diplomat, so they moved around a lot. His mother wanted his older sister, Deena, to start taking piano lessons. She brought Deena and Wendel to the studio of a well-known teacher. Young Wendel, then just 4, also played for the teacher, banging on the keyboard with glee.

“I’ll teach the girl but only if I can teach the boy as well,” the teacher said.

And so his musical journey began.

Patrick, now 51, showed an enormous aptitude for classical piano and it was one of the things that grounded him as his family moved from D.C. to Venezuela to Jamaica. Whenever they would stay at a hotel, his mother would make arrangements for her two children to practice the piano in the lobby or the lounge, if they had one. It was a source of continuity and comfort in his life.

But when he was 14, he stopped playing. He was a teenager—he had other interests: sports, girls, popular music, especially hip-hop. He loved Public Enemy and Eric B. & Rakim. A friend turned him onto the reggae-tinged hip-hop of Boogie Down Productions, which he couldn’t get enough of.

“I still loved classical music,” he explains. “But I just didn’t listen to it that much.”

He went to college, undergrad at Emory University. He majored in political science, figuring he’d be a diplomat like his dad, or maybe a lawyer. One day, a girlfriend asked him to play piano. He demurred at first but finally agreed. She was impressed with his talent, but he was stunned. He sounded terrible, at least based on his own high standards. He had assumed the facility would always be there, but he now understood he needed to use it or lose it. It bothered him, more than he expected.

He began studying piano at Emory and realized that music was his true love. He went on to get that master’s in piano performance at Northwestern. But his love for hip-hop was still percolating. It was the ’90s, so you couldn’t record things on a computer. You needed physical equipment. Mics. Recorders. Turntables.

He began experimenting with different electronic and hip-hop sounds, all while studying to become a concert pianist. In 1997, he moved to Baltimore, where his mother was living (she and his father had divorced by then). He got a small, grubby apartment in Mt. Vernon—by far his biggest and most expensive piece of furniture was his Steinway piano.

Then, in 2005, he had just come home from playing a Mozart piano concerto in Bolivia when he realized that his index finger on his left hand felt strange. He figured he just needed rest. He took two weeks off from playing. When he tried again, the finger felt worse—weak, almost like he had no control over it. He went to a clinic that specialized in hand injuries. The doctors asked him to play. Afterwards, the room got very quiet.

“You’re making me nervous,” he said.

The doctors told him he had a nerve condition called focal dystonia. It was the same condition that Peabody’s most famous professor, the pianist Leon Fleisher, had suffered from. It effectively ended Fleisher’s career as a concert pianist.

This was obviously very depressing news—existentially depressing, in some ways. But Wendel Patrick (who was then still only known as Kevin Gift) has the kind of restless creative spirit that can’t be extinguished. He got more involved in photography, a pastime he had picked up while on tour with a band. He started experimenting more with electronic music. He made that first hip-hop album. And Wendel Patrick was born.

“I DON’T THINK HIP-HOP NEEDS ANY VALIDATION OF ANY KIND. THAT’S NOT WHAT THIS IS ABOUT FOR ME AT ALL.”

If you live in Baltimore, you might know Patrick in any number of ways. Maybe you took piano lessons from him at Music & Arts in Timonium or Ellicott City back in the day. Maybe you’ve attended one of his Boom Bap Society concerts—a series of lively, improvised hip-hop jam sessions that he started with his friend, the composer and DJ Erik Spangler, 14 years ago. Maybe you’ve watched the Maryland Public Television series he hosts, Artworks, where he interviews fascinating members of the local arts community. Maybe you’ve listened to his albums or his collaborations with the likes of spoken word artist Ursula Rucker or Baltimore’s own Eze Jackson.

Quite possibly, you know him through Out of the Blocks, the podcast he co-produced with Aaron Henkin. Patrick wrote the ineffably cool, jazzy scores that accompanied the podcast, which produced intimate audio profiles of city blocks and their people.

When Henkin approached Patrick about collaborating on Out of the Blocks, he was simply hoping to use some of Patrick’s pre-existing music. He had been a fan of the musician since he interviewed him for a WYPR show called “The Signal.” But Patrick had another idea: What if he wrote customized soundtracks for each episode, incorporating the natural soundscape—the sizzle of the deep fryer, the whir of a dry-clean machine—into the music? Henkin was blown away.

“It was like asking to borrow someone’s used pickup truck, and then them saying, actually, let me build you a brand new Maserati from scratch,” he says with a chuckle.

Patrick became a co-producer of the show. He also got in the habit of taking striking black-and-white photos of the subjects featured on the pod. He and Henkin would hand deliver a print of the photograph to the interviewee, a way of saying thanks and staying connected.

Henkin says the photos also served as an icebreaker. “Like, everyone understands what a photo portrait is, but maybe not so much an audio portrait,” he explains. “It was almost like the pictures were easier for people to wrap their mind around than the audio.”

Henkin describes his partnership with Patrick as the most “productive, satisfying collaboration” of his life.

And now, Patrick is about to embark on one of his biggest challenges yet: heading up Peabody Institute’s new hip-hop program. Peabody will become the first conservatory in the world to offer a hip-hop degree.

It’s an overcast day in November and Patrick is sitting in his two-floor apartment in the Bromo Arts District, reflecting on his career and life. Downstairs is a rather elaborate studio with all manner of microphones, video equipment, turntables, mixers, as well as that beautiful grand piano. His bedroom is upstairs. (He moved into this larger space in 2012.)

Patrick is dressed simply, in a dark gray thermal top, black jeans, and bare feet. He has an elegant way about him—a calm voice, a thoughtful stillness.

He says he’s excited about the prospect of building this hip-hop department from scratch—in what can only be described as a coup, Grammy Award-winning rapper and producer Lupe Fiasco will be joining the faculty—but he wants to make something very clear.

“I don’t think hip-hop needs any validation of any kind,” he says. “That’s not what this is about for me at all. I think Peabody and institutions of higher learning are going to learn a tremendous amount by having hip-hop. But entering into this space is not somehow a badge of honor.”

Fred Bronstein, Peabody’s dean, agrees. “Hip-hop was the logical next step for us,” he says.

He notes that Patrick had been an adjunct and then assistant professor at the conservatory since 2016—teaching hip-hop ensemble and Hip-Hop Music Production: History and Practice. And in general, the school has expanded its technology programs to prepare its students for an increasingly digitized world.

Today’s Peabody students are learning about film and video game scoring, computer music, sound design, musical engineering, and more, along with studying the established classical masters. They’ve had a jazz major since 2001. Bronstein feels that Patrick was uniquely positioned to teach at the school.

“One of the great things about Wendel is that he was trained as a classical pianist at a high level,” he says. “And he found his way into these other disciplines, most obviously hip-hop. I think he brings a breadth of knowledge and an understanding of how hip-hop fits into a wider musical context and relates to other disciplines.”

Bronstein also wants to dispel the stereotype of a Peabody student who is monomaniacally focused on classical music. They are young people who love music. And like most music-loving young people, they love hip-hop. “Kendrick Lamar won a Pulitzer Prize,” he points out.

So if Peabody is ready for hip-hop, the question remains, is hip-hop ready for Peabody? Eze Jackson, the local rap artist and impresario who has collaborated with Patrick on a variety of projects, welcomes this development.

“I think it’s exciting for hip-hop,” he says. “It’s exciting for Baltimore.”

He says he wishes that, back when he was a young man, a degree like this had been an option for him. “When I got out of high school, I was an emcee, but there was no place to study hip-hop. So I went in the Navy, pretty much to try to find myself,” he says. “I studied hip-hop on my own, as a student of the culture and the craft. But if I could have stayed home and gone to Peabody instead of going to the Navy, hell yeah!”

And Jackson thinks that anyone who sees this as somehow a sell-out of hip-hop culture is being painfully shortsighted.

“Hip-hop is such a limitless art form that I don’t think it gets credit for, so I think it’s dope that Peabody is taking this jump to be the first conservatory to offer it. It shows respect for a craft that we’ve always respected.”

What’s more, Jackson says Patrick is the perfect man to bring the subject to academia. “His knowledge of hip-hop is unmatched,” he says.

“IF I COULD’VE GONE TO PEABODY INSTEAD OF THE NAVY, HELL YEAH!” JACKSON SAYS.

Patrick is already receiving applications and he’s excited about the caliber of students who are applying to the major, which will officially launch in September. He envisions the program starting out small—maybe six to eight students in the first cohort—and growing from there.

“Peabody is an institution that is filled with very skilled students,” he says. “And that’s exactly what I want for this program. I want top level turntablists, MCs, beat boxers, and producers to come. And I’m excited to see what this first group of students is—it’s gonna be exciting for all of them, as well as for the new faculty.”

Meanwhile, there’s been another positive development in Patrick’s musical life. About 15 years ago, after accepting the fact that he may never play piano again, he started attending these “Out of Your Head” jazz improv sessions at the Windup Space. (Those sessions would ultimately become the inspiration for the Boom Bap Society.) He would play the electronic keyboard. And much to his surprise, he found that he could play. His index finger was still hard to control, but less so.

“That was pretty mind-altering for me,” he says. Apparently, the intuitive motion of improvisation—as opposed to the highly formal movement of classical performance—rewired his brain a bit. “And that’s when I started to approach [my focal dystonia] as more of a curiosity and a problem to be solved,” he says. “As opposed to, ‘I hope this thing just goes away.’”

Since then, it’s gotten better. Not perfect. But he’s making progress.

It’s not a coincidence that it was improv that brought on this revelation. It was the world of improv, of hip-hop, of electronica that saved him in a way, when he lost his ability to play Mozart and Chopin. He was able to thoroughly immerse himself in that music, reinvent himself—it brought him friends, fans, collaborators, incredible musical experiences across the world, all culminating in this new program at Peabody.

And now, in a perfect merging of Kevin Gift and Wendel Patrick, it had brought him back to the piano, his first love.

Judah Adashi says his interest in social justice was sparked when he was a student at Gilman, of all places. He took a class on Black history, with a particular focus on civil rights, and the injustice of it all stuck with him. He went to Yale for undergrad, then Peabody for his doctoral degree in music. He was composing and studying, but also volunteering for Barack Obama’s campaign. The idea of being a “community organizer” called out to him, and he briefly flirted with quitting music altogether to become a full-time activist. Then he realized that he could do both—you could be an artist and an activist—and that the two were inextricably linked.

He’s gone on to found Rise BMore, an annual performance that commemorates the death of Freddie Gray, and serves as an ambassador for the Baltimore Peace Movement. Now, he’s bringing his passion full circle, with a new class at Peabody titled “Art and Activism in Baltimore,” which started this fall.

Your class is not called “Art and Activism,” but very specifically “Art and Activism in Baltimore.” Why?
When I look at the Baltimore arts scene, arts and activism are pretty deeply intertwined. Our Black artists are the heartbeat of the city. And that’s what I draw sustenance and inspiration from. And I want my students to know that, because I don’t think it’s immediately apparent when you go to a conservatory located in just one block of Mount Vernon. I mean, it happens to everyone in college—you could easily miss the city around you.

It does seem like Peabody is becoming more connected to Baltimore.
There has been a culture shift. I think Peabody is just a little more in the world than it used to be. I mean, Peabody as a physical space—you might as well be in, like, Leipzig in 1728. Not only do you have the college bubble, but it’s like a bubble within that bubble…So I think being someone from here, who loves Baltimore as much as I do, any time I can make space for Baltimore in that building, I really jump at the opportunity.

Most of your students aren’t from Baltimore. And many will leave after college. Is that a challenge?
I think about this a lot: What does it mean to be an artist in a city when you’re in college? Do you just live here? How much should you invest in the city? It’s hard. But Baltimore is one of those cities where, if you embrace it, it will embrace you back.

A composer can write music with themes of injustice. But for a musician who doesn’t compose, being an arts activist is a little trickier.
You can pursue these things independently. You can be an oboe player who also does volunteering or is part of an [activist] community. Of course, we could have a whole other conversation about the power of music just to bring joy to people. One of my students works with the Helping Up Mission to bring music [to unhoused people]. And that’s 100-percent activism in my book.

One of the things I’ve asked my students to do is what I call a “peace audit”—which is to write down some of the peaceful experiences they’ve had in Baltimore. Most of what goes on around us in Baltimore is beautiful and joyful. To me, simply uplifting and celebrating Baltimore is a form of activism.

Judging from Back to the Future and The Jetsons, the year 2017 would be filled with flying cars, hover boards, and teleportation docks. Much to our disappointment, we’re not quite there yet. But tech companies like Mindgrub Technologies are working towards making those dreams a reality—virtual reality to be exact.

The Locust Point company, under the leadership of president and CEO Todd Marks, has made it possible for local organizations like Mercy Medical Center, Peabody Conservatory, and Ulman Cancer Fund to revolutionize experiences for both consumers and employees. Using augmented reality, mobile gaming, and wearable technology, Mindgrub has been able to bring intangible ideas to life.

“A lot of the things we are working on are real world experiences,” Marks says. “Virtual and augmented reality can simulate anything.”

So when Mercy was looking for new ways to train its nurses, it was only natural that the hospital turned to Mindgrub for help. With teaching tools and content from the nursing department and the gaming software, the two organizations were able to create an educational game called Epic Quest.

Trainees have to travel through the World of Salus—healthcare in Latin—to complete a series of questions that test their knowledge on various aspects of medicine, like infection control and pain management.

“Using the game cut down on the length of the orientation,” says Stacey Brull Sr., director of research, education, and informatics at Mercy. “What used to take three days, now only takes one.”

Mercy discovered the nurses that completed the training using Epic Quest game retained more information than those completing traditional training, like PowerPoint presentations and classroom instruction. 

In addition, Mindgrub helped improve Mercy’s 3D crash-cart computer training. In the newest version, virtual reality simulates a crisis, forcing trainees to react in real time.

“You’re actually immersed in the emergency room, so that as the crisis is happening, you are able to react and use the cart in real time,” Marks says. “It creates muscle memory.”

The program is still in the testing phase, but Brull hopes that it will be at Mercy very soon.

“I’ve never experienced anything like it. You have to physically reach for the drawer and pull it open,” she says. “Not only will this elevate our training, but it’s just very cool.”

When Mindgrub works with a client like Mercy to develop virtual or augmented reality programming, the entire process—from discovery to deployment—can range anywhere from six weeks to a year depending on the scope.

Recently, the company has also worked with the Ulman Cancer Fund, known for its fundraising runs and bike rides. Mindgrub developed a virtual reality headset attached to a stationary bike that simulates a cycle ride through the city, encouraging people to participate.

 And prospective students of the Peabody Conservatory can now see a 3D video of the orchestra to simulate what it would be like to sit in the middle of a real rehearsal.

“Since its inception, VR has been commonly seen as an outlet for leisure and exploring new gaming terrains,” Marks says. “But now it’s becoming more than entertainment; it is an asset to companies, boosting productivity, education, and research and development.”

Events

True Laurels Issue 02 Celebration
May 5, New Beginnings Barbershop, 1047 Hollins St.  On Friday May 5, 2017 Baltimore-based and focused zine True Laurels—which has been featured in The Fader and Nylon—will be celebrating the release of its second issue. The launch takes place at Sowebo-based barbershop and gallery space, New Beginnings. The event will give attendees the first chance to read and purchase the issue, which like its predecessor, features stories on some of the most captivating musical and visual artists of Baltimore City and beyond. The event will not only give a first look at the issue but also display work from artists featured. 

The Milkshake Band’s Pre-Mom’s Day Concert
May 13, Creative Alliace, 3134 Eastern Ave. The beloved kids’ band is also hosting a mini-activist fair as part of their Celebrate Mom’s Concert. Kids can have their face painted and make Mother’s Day cards for mom, and even get their picture taken with Moo, Milkshake’s mascot. Moms can check out some great non-profit organizations to connect with. Every mom also gets a flower and some chocolates, and if you bring a diaper and/or diaper ointment donation for Share Baby, an organization that provides baby gear to community organizations, and you can get a free Milkshake CD.

In-Gallery Conversation: Jack Whitten & Katy Siegel
May 20, Baltimore Museum of Art, 10 Art Museum Drive  One of America’s most renowned abstract painters, Jack Whitten, joins BMA senior programming and research curator Katy Siegel in a thought-provoking conversation about the trajectory of social abstraction, and specifically Black abstraction, from the post-War years. They’ll also discuss Whitten’s work to the contemporary, and the work of Mark Bradford.

Performances

An Evening With Snail Mail
May 16, WTMD studios, 1 Olympic Place, Towson  At this year’s South by Southwest, everybody was talking about a three-piece rock band from Baltimore named Snail Mail. Pitchfork raved about them, and awarded them Best New Track. In a profile of Snail Mail’s singer, Lindsey Jordan, Pitchfork called her “the wisest teenage indie rocker we know.” On Tuesday May 16, see Snail Mail live, a week before they set off on their first big national tour. 

H.T. Darling’s Incredible Musaeum Presents: The Treasures of New Galapagos, Astonishing Acquisitions from the Perisphere Through May 14, The Peale Museum, 225 Holliday St.  In this new immersive theater work by the inventive Submersive Productions, H.T. Darling is a high-society explorer who has just returned from an expedition to an area of outer space, “The Perisphere,” and a planet he calls New Galapagos. Darling will share his curious discoveries at The Musaeum, where each audience member choses their own path through the evening’s strange events.

Psycho Beach Party May 19-June 16, Stillpointe Theatre, 1823 N. Charles St.  Psycho Beach Party” is a manic party-mix of 50’s psychological thrillers, 60’s beach movies, and 70’s slasher films. The story focuses on Chicklet Forrest, a 16-year old tomboy who’s desperate to be part of the in-crowd of Malibu beach surfers. She’s the typical American girl – except for one little problem: her personality is split into more slices than a pepperoni pizza.

Exhibits

Young, Black, & Gifted at Gallery CA and Arts Every Day’s Annual Student Art Show Two shows this month showcase powerful, young minds. Young, Black, & Gifted’s purpose is to demonstrate the talent of young black artists in Baltimore. The youth artists of Baltimore Youth Arts want to show their city in a more positive light to address the stigma of youth of color and change the narrative that isn’t reflective of their true identity. They’ve been working with Shan, an award-winning photographer from East Baltimore, to organize the exhibit. (May 5-June 9, Gallery CA, 440 E. Oliver St.)

The exhibition organized by Arts Every Day—which connects Baltimore City public schools to the arts and culture community—features more than 150 pieces art, including sculptures, portraits, quilts, and murals. (Through May 7, The Walters Art Museum, 600 N. Charles St.)

American Made: Mass Production/Mass Incarceration Through May 27, Maryland Art Place, 218 W. Saratoga St.  This exhibition and reading room, curated by students at the Maryland Institute College of Art, showcases photography, zines, video and other visual art forms produced by current and former prisoners that examines concepts of mass production and forced labor in prisons. Work includes videos from the Real News Network presented by Baltimore-based artist Bashi Rose; new drawings by artist Angelo, in collaboration with Chicago-based collective Temporary Services; and posters by New York-based designer and artist Josh MacPhee.

‘Merica and You Can’t Just Draw a Line in the Sand Through June 17, School 33, 1427 Light St.  One of two new exhibitions opening this month at School 33, ‘Merica, a group exhibition, examines and dissects deeply ingrained American iconography such as the American flag and printed U.S. currency. Featured artists Susie Brandt, Wesley Clark, Emily Erb and René Trevino engage in a literal and tactile deconstruction, reconstruction, and/or re-imagining of this imagery in an effort to process the complex, evolving relationships that they themselves and others have with it. The other exhibit, a solo show by David Eassa, uses paintings sculptures, and installations to explore this theme: “Just when you think everything is set in place with a clear trajectory, it seems like something always comes along to flip it all upside down. Your once certain way of being, your tried and true ways of existing within yourself, your environment, and with others… everything is now challenged and called into question. You ask yourself, ‘Where do I go from here?’”

Mattye Hamilton, Peter Smith, Maxine Taylor May 5-28, Hamilton Gallery, 5502 Harford Road  This group show explores the human form, and the process of changing and growing. Through her paintings Mattye Hamilton illustrates the way in which she is connected to her environment. Her works radiate light and teases emotion, and she is drawn to the patterns, colors and figures of daily life. Peter Smith and Maxine Taylor present works depicting the human figure. Their investigations of the human form include works in watercolor, pastel and oil. 

News

Composers Du Yun, who last week was awarded the Pulitzer Prize, and Felipe Lara, hailed for his “voluptuous, elemental lyricism,” will join the artist faculty of the Peabody Conservatory’s highly regarded Composition Department beginning in the fall semester of the 2017-18 academic year. They come to Peabody in the midst of numerous initiatives and developments demonstrating the Conservatory’s renewed commitment to creating, performing, and celebrating the music of our time. “Composition has long been a strength at Peabody, and we are proud to welcome two new faculty artists of such stature as Du Yun and Felipe Lara,” noted Dean Fred Bronstein. “I look forward to seeing how their distinct creative contributions will expand and enhance the work we are doing across the Conservatory in the new music space.”