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The remix of the Nature theme by Alex Lasarenko makes me swoon. How do you feel? The question for self-taught drummers at home, in the garage or the football field, what music were they listening to with earphones on their head? Are drums just about keeping time or is there much more going on? This episode is about the passing of Alex Lasarenko by Fritz Doddy.
As music professionals, the whole of our career is the sum of our experiences in life along with our interactions with family, friends, and other music professionals. Alex Lasarenko was my creative director for over 10 years during our shared time at Elias Arts, now Elias Music. Elias earned the reputation as the “gold standard” because of its commitment to consistent quality and innovation when it came to writing and producing music. That reputation was earned, in no small part, due to Alex’s passion and drive to be the best.
Alex was a tough boss. He demanded quality, innovation, and a commitment to craftsmanship and artistry. His criticism could cut like a knife. Once, he famously blew up one of my potential tracks by just hearing one chord. One chord! I hadn’t even written anything yet! But, he had an instinct for good writing and championed us all. He never wavered in his support for his composers.
At the time, Alex couldn’t be bothered with the fine print of learning the burgeoning digital music technology. He had something better, sublime talent! While the rest of us wrestled with music, Alex danced with it. As a writer, he could go from pompous and extravagant, to simple and pastoral, instantly and effortlessly, as if Bach himself was whispering instructions in his ear. As a player, he coaxed myriad emotions out of the piano - peace, anger, joy, despair. If it was part of the human condition, he felt it and could play it.
We laughed a lot, and often. We annoyed our employers on occasion with our antics and shenanigans. If Alex wasn’t in the middle of it, he nodded quietly in approval. Elias wasn’t a stuffy, polite, or conventional company. The shit was crazy, and there are plenty of stories…
After Alex left Elias to start his own company, he remained a prolific composer and recording artist, releasing numerous albums and scoring many films and TV shows. We talked and emailed on occasion and had dinner a few times. But life and work have a way of separating folks.
My wife has a lovely saying, “In every relationship there is a flower and a gardener.” It’s true. Looking back, one could say that Alex was the flower in the relationship with his staff due to his need for control and perfection. But I believe the opposite is true. He pulled the weeds from our musical gardens, trimmed the dead parts of our sonic vocabulary, and forced us to bloom into the composers we are today. We were the flowers.
Dear Alex, we are forever in your debt - RIP 1963-2020.
By Darlene DrandaThe remix of the Nature theme by Alex Lasarenko makes me swoon. How do you feel? The question for self-taught drummers at home, in the garage or the football field, what music were they listening to with earphones on their head? Are drums just about keeping time or is there much more going on? This episode is about the passing of Alex Lasarenko by Fritz Doddy.
As music professionals, the whole of our career is the sum of our experiences in life along with our interactions with family, friends, and other music professionals. Alex Lasarenko was my creative director for over 10 years during our shared time at Elias Arts, now Elias Music. Elias earned the reputation as the “gold standard” because of its commitment to consistent quality and innovation when it came to writing and producing music. That reputation was earned, in no small part, due to Alex’s passion and drive to be the best.
Alex was a tough boss. He demanded quality, innovation, and a commitment to craftsmanship and artistry. His criticism could cut like a knife. Once, he famously blew up one of my potential tracks by just hearing one chord. One chord! I hadn’t even written anything yet! But, he had an instinct for good writing and championed us all. He never wavered in his support for his composers.
At the time, Alex couldn’t be bothered with the fine print of learning the burgeoning digital music technology. He had something better, sublime talent! While the rest of us wrestled with music, Alex danced with it. As a writer, he could go from pompous and extravagant, to simple and pastoral, instantly and effortlessly, as if Bach himself was whispering instructions in his ear. As a player, he coaxed myriad emotions out of the piano - peace, anger, joy, despair. If it was part of the human condition, he felt it and could play it.
We laughed a lot, and often. We annoyed our employers on occasion with our antics and shenanigans. If Alex wasn’t in the middle of it, he nodded quietly in approval. Elias wasn’t a stuffy, polite, or conventional company. The shit was crazy, and there are plenty of stories…
After Alex left Elias to start his own company, he remained a prolific composer and recording artist, releasing numerous albums and scoring many films and TV shows. We talked and emailed on occasion and had dinner a few times. But life and work have a way of separating folks.
My wife has a lovely saying, “In every relationship there is a flower and a gardener.” It’s true. Looking back, one could say that Alex was the flower in the relationship with his staff due to his need for control and perfection. But I believe the opposite is true. He pulled the weeds from our musical gardens, trimmed the dead parts of our sonic vocabulary, and forced us to bloom into the composers we are today. We were the flowers.
Dear Alex, we are forever in your debt - RIP 1963-2020.

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