JAILHOUSE ROCK
An inmate reaches out through music.
By Jeff Silver for Electronic Musician – June 1997
 
 
When you talk to Bobby BeauSoleil, he sounds like an average musician trying to get the most out of his gear on a limited budget. The only real difference between BeauSoleil and many of you reading this article is that he has been in prison since 1969 for a murder committee during a drug deal gone bad. He doesn't ask for sympathy, and long ago he accepted responsibility for his actions. What makes him different from thousands of other men and women who are serving long prison sentences is his passion for music's ability to empower, teach, and unify across obstacles and barriers. 

HOW IT ALL BEGAN 
In the mid 1960s, BeauSoleil moved back and forth between San Francisco and Los Angeles, racking up bona fide professional credits as a guitar player for various bands. In 1966, he formed a group called the Orkustra, which included David LaFlamme of It's a Beautiful Day. The group's instrumentation consisted of violin, oboe, stand-up bass, guitar, bazouki, and drums. BeauSoleil's original concept for the Orkustra was to combine culturally diverse sounds and timbres in an "electronic orchestra," but at that time technology wasn't adequate to accomplish what he envisioned. He went back to Los Angeles to do session work in 1968, mostly as a blues player. It was there that the event took place that would change his life forever.

Following his conviction, he was sent to San Quentin Prison in California where he put together several bands that performed in the prison. In 1974, he was transferred to another California prison in Tracy where he established a music program that still exists today. The program started out in an unused barber shop with a small P.A. and two guitar amps; it eventually spawned several bands, two of which won a music competition among prison inmates statewide.

In 1976, a former contact from San Francisco talked to BeauSoleil about scoring an underground film he was producing. A TEAC 2340 4-track machine was brought in for the project, and the Freedom Orchestra was born. "We improvised on different themes to create the score," BeauSoleil recounted. "When the recording was over, I had to use a razor blade to edit hours of tape from these long jam sessions to fit the film."
 
BeauSoleil got his first hands-on exposure to electronic music during the recording of the soundtrack. "I needed to enhance the sound palette of the basic rock instrumentation we'd used. I read Polyphony magazine [which later became Electronic Musician] and a couple of books by Craig Anderton to learn how to build my own circuits and instruments. From there, I graduated to building modules from scratch using parts from electronics surplus houses, and I used the modules to create new sounds." Thereafter, he studied audio electronics for several years in a prison vocational electronics program. This learning phase gave him the opportunity to develop skills he has put to good use ever since as a synth programmer and engineer. In 1984, he persuaded Jerry Kovarsky of Casio to loan him a CZ-1 synth in exchange for developing sounds for the instrument. (Kovarsky is now with Korg.) This was BeauSoleil's first 
experience with digital programming, but because the instrument was based on an analog architecture, he was able to complete several volumes of sounds. He is also a guitar player, so Casio later provided him with a PG-380, a MIDI guitar synth that he still uses as a stand-alone instrument. Actual programming of the PG-380 had to be done on Casio's rack-mounted VZ-10, from which patches were transferred on a data card. This programming experience and his connections at Casio later led to programming gigs with Ensoniq for the KT-76 synth, Kawai for the K4 synth, and Kurzweil for the K2000.
 
In addition to his other projects, BeauSoleil is currently doing field testing for Harvey Starr of Starr Labs on the Ztar, a guitar-like synth controller. Years ago, BeauSoleil began developing a similar instrument, which he called the Syntar, but because of technical limitations, he was never able to get it off the ground. He has high hopes for the Ztar, however. "Harvey has created a wonderful instrument. It is solid state and digital, electronic from the ground up with no physical strings. The fingerboard is all buttons in rows like strings, although there is a version with string triggers for the right hand. The standard version has rows of trigger buttons arranged in a string-like fashion so they can be tapped or strummed, and they have aftertouch capabilities, which is a big advance." 
GETTING WITH THE PROGRAM
Finally, in 1994, BeauSoleil requested to be transferred closer to family and was moved to a prison in the northwest. Through this change of location, he found a change in possibilities. Because of budget cutbacks and the resulting dismantling or reduction of cultural programs, the California system had not allowed much room for creativity. What he found at the prison was an administration very interested in finding ways to help people change their behavior patterns. More specifically, prison officials wanted to institute a video-production program. Several years prior, a project to install an audio-recording facility had been launched, as well, and the work had gone as far as the wiring of two rooms with XLR and 1 4-inch patch panels. That project had been abandoned, and one of the rooms was being used for storage when BeauSoleil arrived. He had taken training in basic video production at Tracy and Soledad prisons in California, so he convinced prison officials to let him assist in developing the video facility and completing the audio studio, as well.

This turn of events gave BeauSoleil the chance to act on the philosophy he'd developed after so many years in prison. "You can get locked into routines in prison that are designed to make you feel powerless unless you take measures to create opportunities for yourself," he says. "People in prison tend to be conditioned by the environment to feel like they can't make it any different, but I've found ways to make time work for me rather than having time done to me."

Aside from the new wiring, though, about all BeauSoleil found in the "A/V room" was 20-year-old guitar amps, a tired drum set, and a noisy P.A. With the cooperation of the prison administration, BeauSoleil started getting in touch with his old music-industry contacts. Those contacts became even more important after voters passed Measure 17, which diverted funds that might have, among other things, provided money for developing the new studio.
 
"In this day and age, we can't count on taxpayer dollars to fund this kind of program. Money is being funneled into building more prisons and buying more beds," BeauSoleil explains. "But I'm not trying to pat myself on the back for what's been accomplished here. The credit for the response we've received belongs to the people in the industry." And respond they have. In addition to those who have contributed gear in exchange for programming, other equipment manufacturers, including Mackie, Hafler, KRK, Kawai, A.R.T., Fender, MESA/Boogie, and Paradigm, as well as software companies, such as Keyfax and Beatboy, have either loaned or contributed equipment to the program. (See sidebar "Pitching In" for some insights from a few of the contributors to the prison A/V program.) 
 
 
The undertaking of setting up the studio received mixed reactions from his fellow inmates. Being a new guy from another state, BeauSoleil was viewed with some reservation. Thomas "Zinn" Dickerson, BeauSoleil's coworker in the A/V program and one of the prison's rap artists, says, "We had to talk a lot in the beginning to be able to understand each other. There's naturally a lot of tension here because of the environment and the way it can affect guys. But Bobby has the patience to try to get them to understand what he's trying to do and to get through to them."

WORKING THE SYSTEM
An interesting thing about the A/V program is how it's able to "justify" its existence. The same Measure 17 that diverted funds from the development of the program also requires that all prisoners have full-time jobs, but most of those jobs don't exist. However, by establishing a viable training program, funds can be made available for that training. The video program qualifies for those funds by providing training in production and producing informational and training videos. The only problem is that the money must be used almost exclusively for video equipment. The acquisition of audio gear is left to the generosity of contributors and BeauSoleil's powers of persuasion.
 
Nevertheless, the program has been quite a success. For example, Los Hermanos is a powerfully dramatic video written and produced by the inmates that documents the youth intervention program of the same name. In it, inmates provide at-risk adolescents with first-hand accounts of their crimes to make the youths seriously consider the consequences of their actions before it's too late. Reyes Miranda, a board member of the Los Hermanos program, is one of the inmates featured talking to a group of young people who were brought into the prison. He tells them, "The actual crime took one minute--one minute of stupidity. I've now been incarcerated for nine years." Watching the faces of the kids as they hear this only adds to the intensity of the moment. It's also obvious how powerful these experiences are for the prisoners as they recount their actions and recognize themselves in the faces of their young audience. The A/V program also records inmate sports events and outside performers who come to the prison, but Los Hermanos is more typical of the kinds of projects the program seeks to produce. Los Hermanos offers a 9-month program that includes a course book and curriculum developed by the inmates. Other programs served by the A/V production facilities include youth intervention programs and a planned victims/offenders program (in which inmates and crime victims will meet face-to-face). By producing these programs on video, they can be made available to the broader community and educate a larger audience than just those individuals who come to the prison to participate. 
Another project in the works is a compilation rap CD featuring prison rap artists; BeauSoleil is engineer and coproducer with the artists. He says, "We want to put out an album of hard-core rap by guys who have seen it, who have street savvy as well as heavy prison experience. The overall lyrical theme will be a reverse spin on the violent messages in some releases. Wannabe hard guys use the scene to sell their image, and sometimes that takes the form of glorifying violence and crime. The main purpose of our release is to share viewpoints that reveal more of the whole reality, including the painful consequences of violence and crime to the individual and the community."

Dickerson, one of the artists who will be featured on the CD, agrees: "Most of the friends I came up with are either dead or in prison. Through music, I can relate real life experiences to try to help others who are coming up and help them to begin to understand their real potential."

THE STUDIO
In discussing the equipment and technical aspects of the studio, BeauSoleil points out that the two rooms were originally concrete boxes with horrible sound. One of his industry contacts, Bernie Chlop at Systems Development Group, supplied BeauSoleil with acoustic foam, Sonora panels, and diffusers, along with several suggestions as to their placement based on computer models of the rooms developed from blueprints provided by BeauSoleil, who is tremendously grateful: "It made a big improvement. The live room is much sweeter sounding, and the mixes I'm doing now seem to translate well to other systems."
 
As far as hardware is concerned, several factors play key roles in determining what gear is best suited for the program's needs. As BeauSoleil explains, "We have very limited space for equipment, and because there are no funds for upkeep, we have to look for things that can stand up to use by seven different bands." (See table "The A/V Project Studio" for a complete list of the studio's equipment.) The recording room doubles as a practice room, and each band gets a two-and-a-half hour practice session two or three times a week, one of which each month can be used for recording. "In the live-recording room, we have a Mackie 1202 [12-channel mic/line mixer] that sounds great, and it's bulletproof, so guys who are unfamiliar with it can't hurt it," says BeauSoleil.
 "Most of the amplifiers for the guitars and bass were given to us by Fender, and Kawai contributed almost the entire MIDI keyboard setup. Our old acoustic drum set died of natural causes, and now we use an electronic kit." Having read about the Dauz Drum Kit, BeauSoleil contacted Dan Dauz, who gave him an experimental kit. BeauSoleil has it set up to trigger sounds from an Alesis DM-5. "It works great. It's held up to constant adjustment by different players and has rubber ball joints to hold the drum triggers. The rest of it is made of metal and has stood up to everything over the past year."
 
The live room also has a MESA/Boogie V-Twin Tube Preamp. "It looks indestructible, like something chipped off of a Harley Davidson," says BeauSoleil. "We have a very limited supply of microphones, so running the signals through the V-Twin gives us all the classic tube-mic sounds." In the control room, aside from the Kurzweil K200RS, Ensoniq KT-76, and the trusty Casio PG-380, the main features are a Studiomaster Star System console and an Alesis ADAT. 

"The control panel of the board is almost vertical except for the faders, which are in the normal position. This makes for a large rear panel that forms a patch bay with access to all the key signal points; that and the normalled scheme on the front panel give great flexibility for 8-track recording. It has a built-in stereo noise gate and compressor, and the upright design has a small footprint. I don't know where we would have put a more conventional mixer." 

BeauSoleil says building his own modules is a thing of the past because of the wide array of commercially available gear. When asked what hardware he'd really like to get his hands on, he says, "A Power Mac would be dynamite; we'd just have to find room for it in our little space!" 

He adds, "Some of the guys have their own gear, mostly guitars and a few hardware sequencers with built-in sounds, such as the Yamaha QY-22. I'd like to see more of those around. It's an instrument that's more suitable than a guitar, because there's no security problem. A guitar has parts that can be turned into weapons, although I've never seen an instrument used as a weapon. No violence has ever occurred within any prison music program I've been involved with."

PITCHING IN
There is no question that Bobby BeauSoleil is an effective communicator. This is readily apparent when one looks at the sheer number of contacts he’s made within the music industry. The only thing more varied than this network of manufacturers and suppliers is the reasons they have for supporting BeauSoleil and the prison A/V program.

Jim Giordano, national sales manager at Studiomaster, was skeptical when Beausoleil first contacted him. He receives many requests for donations and as a rule does not give away merchandise. However, after hearing about the community benefits of the program and reviewing the extensive documentation BeauSoleil provided, he was won over. “This request stood out. It was different in that I was moved. These are guys who are not just killing time; they’re doing something genuine and constructive.”

Bernie Chlop of Systems Development Group in Maryland was impressed with what BeauSoleil had managed to accomplish within the state prison system’s bureaucracy. “We’ve done projects with some local institutions here, and at the county level you can’t even get a Bible in without major hassles,” he says. “For Bobby to have done what he has at the state prison level is just amazing.”

David Sweet of DK Sweet Artists Relations Consulting recently contributed an Alesis ADAT. His reasons for becoming involved with the A/V program go beyond his feelings about BeauSoleil as a talented musician. He believes in the work that’s being produced. Disturbed by the content of some rap and its effect on young people, Sweet is supportive of the program’s antiviolence rap CD. He also feels it is important to lend support to antiviolence and other youth-intervention programs. “Once they’re thrown into prison, young people are hidden away, and no one really knows what happens to them. The unintended consequence is that the idea of being a criminal is then romanticized, and the prisoners become heroes and martyrs. These programs let kids find out what life on the inside is really like without any of the mystique.”

GETTING RESULTS
Most of us have images of prisons as places where violence and victimization are commonplace, which brings up the question of what kind of difference the studio and A/V program has made at the prison. “The program has developed its own subculture that breaks down barriers within the inmate population at large. There’s more interaction among culturally diverse people than elsewhere in the prison system,” BeauSoleil explains. “We’re artists. A lot of these guys were not artists before; it’s something they’ve developed since they’ve been in prison. They’ve made the choice to do something creative.”
 
Dudley Janeway, a recreational therapist at the prison for 28 years and the supervisor of the A/V program, agrees. “You’ll see a lot of personal growth within any program that lets people use their creativity and God-given talents,” he says. “They can create a finished product, and the community can say, ‘That’s nice work, we want to use it.’ At that point it doesn’t matter who you are or where you are, in prison or not.”

Dickerson gives perhaps the most moving testimony to the program’s benefits. “A lot of guys lives have been changed through music. I know mine has. Before music, I was down in the hole for a year or two at a time. Officers treat me completely different now. This is the first time in my life there’s something I’m proud of, something I’m sure of."
 
 
After being in prison for 28 years, it seems that BeauSoleil's philosophy of making time work for him has paid off. He’s helped create a world that allows him personal fulfillment, gives other inmates opportunities they wouldn’t have had otherwise, and provides value to the community. He considers himself lucky to have been able to pursue his musical activities and believes it would not have come about if prison administrators had not been sensitive to the needs of the inmates. But as Janeway points out, “Bobby provided the expertise in expanding the program and created the enthusiasm to move it forward.” BeauSoleil’s efforts have helped establish a new-found trust between inmates and administration and among prisoners who otherwise would not have reached across the cultural and ethnic barriers that normally separate them. And whether or not BeauSoleil feels he deserves credit for helping that to happen, those are goals everyone should strive for, no matter which side of the prison walls they live on. 
 

Jeff Silver is a songwriter and freelance author living in Atlanta. This article first appeared in June 1997 Electronic Musician magazine and is reprinted here with permission.
 

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