An unfamiliar and haunting melody snuck up on Chris Pree the same way it always did.
He would be walking to class, talking to friends or trying to do his homework when a tune would tangle itself around his thoughts.
His instincts told him to get the melody down from the nebulous space of his thoughts and place it solidly on paper to save it forever. What he wanted was to find a keyboard to give life to the melody, and arrange poetry to the chords to give life to his emotions.
Pree is a second-year theater student who released his latest mixtape “Here&Now,” a compilation of poetry set to R&B tunes composed on Pree’s keyboard, on Jan. 1. His hometown church choir in Washington, D.C., is also currently recording two of his gospel compositions, “First, Then, and Now” and “Praise Him.”
https://soundcloud.com/christopher-pree/sets/here-now
About seven years ago, 12-year-old Chris Pree stood in the front row of the Wesley United Methodist Church choir, nervously shuffling his sheet music for the gospel song “Oh Yes We Can.” His grandmother stood beside him in her usual spot, and he was glad for her reassuring presence as his reedy voice harmonized with others’.
Later, Pree saw his performance on YouTube. To his embarrassment, he was holding his sheet music upside down.
It also didn’t help that his brothers would constantly tease him when he sang, even when the rest of the congregation praised his voice.
“I was always self-conscious,” Pree said.
Despite the mixed messages, Pree felt he had to transcribe the melodies and poetry swirling through his head. He was always scribbling lyrics on a piece of paper with a pen he had borrowed from a member of the congregation, said Paula Pree, Chris Pree’s grandmother.
Paula Pree could never tell what inspired her grandson – maybe it was something the pastor said, or maybe it was some tune that got stuck in his head again. But whenever inspiration struck, even if it was during a sermon, she had to be prepared with a piece of scrap paper, a pen and a stern admonishment to make him at least pretend to pay attention.
The church community nevertheless encouraged Pree’s penchant for performing by supporting choir arrangements of his gospel compositions, said Pam Rogers, the church’s musical director and Chris Pree’s great-aunt.
Rogers said she and Chris Pree’s grandmother recognized Pree’s love for the arts even before he joined the choir. His personality was dramatic, she said, and his love for performing infectious.
The church gave Pree the stage he said he always wanted: the space to create poetry and to hone what he calls his soulful voice, used to sing his poetry with power.
“Everything happens for a reason, and I believe in speaking things into existence,” Pree said.
Pree left his life in Washington, D.C. and Wesley United Methodist Church behind in 2014 to pursue a newer dream of acting.
But at UCLA, Pree found composing and recording new music difficult. He juggled the sporadic thoughts of melodies and lyrics with rehearsals and coursework for his acting studies at the UCLA School of Theater, Film and Television.
Pree also missed his tiny childhood bedroom, a quiet space where he used to hide himself away and freely express his emotions and vulnerability. When singing in his Midvale Avenue apartment, he knows his roommates can hear him, so he feels awkward and less encouraged to express how he feels.
Asante Parker, a first-year world arts and cultures/dance student and Pree’s girlfriend, is one of the few people outside of Pree’s family to hear him sing and provide opinions when the idea of a song is still fresh in his mind.
Whenever he thinks of a tune or lyric, Pree calls Parker over to record him playing the piano or singing. The requests come at inconvenient times, however, like when she’s dancing alone in the studio or when she’s walking around on campus.
But she records him anyway because she doesn’t want him to forget how the melody sounds, in case a song he is proud of is born from that moment of inspiration.
“I’m usually sitting there doing my homework, watching him make music,” Parker said. “He plays his songs over and over again. I know the words, and I sing them too.”
Pree wants to pursue old-school R&B, the type of soulful music inspired by his time in the church. He finds mainstream R&B and hip-hop songs to sound the same, with the beats and lyrics characterized by a lack of soul and sincerity.
Pree also wants to break the crude attitudes and stereotypes surrounding modern R&B and hip-hop – the swearing and derogatory attitudes toward women – in his songwriting. He does not curse in his songs, and in “Memories,” a song off his mixtape, he sings of old flames and lessons learned.
“Riot,” composed when Pree met Parker, examines new feelings of love inspired by Parker. For the song’s music video, Pree wanted Parker to dance but also act distraught, a request difficult for her to process especially because she did not want to ruin a song made especially for her.
“I’m not an actor, I’m a dancer. He’s an actor,” Parker said. “I was like ‘This is going to be so awkward and embarrassing,’ but it was fine.”
Pree could not promote his work earlier this month because of the death of EzMoney Harper, a friend to many in Pree’s social circle.
But many in the Black Bruin community, including Pree, rallied in solidarity by expressing their emotions through music, said Taylor Alford, a third-year African American studies student, singer and one of Pree’s musical collaborators.
Ultimately, music is Pree’s own way of finding support at UCLA, his home away from home.
“The goal that I made (in my first) year is that by the end of (my third) year almost everybody on campus would know who I was,” Pree said. “I got some work to do.”