Celebrating one year of my sightreading show!

A year ago, in the spring of 2020, as we were all adjusting to being confined to our homes more, I kept trying to figure out how I was going to personally deal with this new scenario, especially since the majority of my income from musical jobs was cut off and I had a lot more free time on my hands. I was also struggling with not getting the regular bursts of adrenalin that come with being a performer and having the interactions with my audience that I so love and feed off of. 

One of the crazy ideas I came up with was to live-stream myself sightreading piano music for one hour. Why do that, one might ask? My answer?  I love sightreading, I'm pretty good at it and I figured I could use this time to explore solo piano repertoire. The only down-side I could think of was that I would be also be setting myself up for falling on my face publicly on a regular basis. But since I have a bit of a reputation for being stubborn and for wanting to be transparent as a musician, I decided the down-side could possibly be turned into an up-side. I wanted other musicians, pianists especially, to discover the joys that can come from being a good sight-reader:

• moments of struggle can actually be pretty amusing
• we can sightread musically if we approach it with skill and the right mindset
• there's a lot we can learn about ourselves as musicians from doing it on a regular basis
• that there are things we can do as musicians to help ourselves be set up for more success prior to jumping in
  
• oftentimes what we think was a disaster in the moment really wasn't so bad
  
  

A year after live-streaming the first episode it's safe to say that Sightreading Maverick is now one of the things I look forward to most in my week. I don't have a lot of regular viewers, at least not that I know of, but I have a faithful crew that regularly watches live and chats via messaging during the show. There's also one viewer who routinely watches at night, after the show is done, messaging me his reactions the whole time. That is always hilarious. I also have several who regularly send in requests. I'm very grateful for their suggestions. 

Every now and then I'll get feedback from people who have watched that they've added pieces to their repertoire that they discovered through the show - that brings me such joy to hear that. At times I  sightread works by composers who are friends or acquaintances of mine on Twitter - that's also been wonderfully rewarding. For me that gives me a completely different glimpse into who they are as people, artists, and friends. I should add here that I'm grateful that they've all been willing to let me subject their music to the risks that a part of sight-reading. They too are brave! 

So almost a year later, with 47 episodes in the books, 2 guest appearances (thanks to Tracy Cowden and the Ivory Duo Piano Ensemble), almost 300 different piano pieces sightread, I'm going to keep at it until I run out of music. If you've never watched before, please do check it out and pass on the word about the show. The easiest way to be reminded about it is to subscribe to my YouTube channel. 

You can also watch episodes whenever you wish. Here's the playlist of everything that's on YouTube.

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My journey down a wonderful rabbit hole - discovering music composed by women

It all started several years ago, in the summer of 2017. I had been asked by a flute player, Sarah Wardle Jones, if I would play piano for a recital she had put together of music composed by women, a particular interest of hers. I of course said yes, not because of the program itself, but simply because I rarely turn down an opportunity to perform. I very quickly realized after saying yes, much to my puzzlement and embarrassment, that I had never, in my entire schooling and career covering 39 years (!) performed anything written by a woman. I couldn't even name on one hand the names of female composers. Fanny Hensel, Clara Schumann, and Cécile Chaminade. That was it. 

The recital was a joy. It was refreshing to peer into a world I hadn't previously known and Sarah's enthusiasm for the composers (Anna Bon, Cécile Chaminade, Lili Boulanger, Sofia Gubaidulina, and Jennifer Higdon), was inspiring. I found myself feeling like Alice by the end of the experience, standing at the very top of a very deep but thrilling hole that contains a new musical cornucopia of creativity and expression I had yet to discover. 

I jumped in. 

I'm still on my long journey down. 

I'm constantly discovering new wonders along the way. 

At the end of 2018, Sarah and a friend of hers, clarinetist Michelle Smith Johnson, and I put together a fun Halloween concert. I don't believe in that particular performance we performed anything written by a woman, but that project brought the three of us together. Over wine and appetizers one evening we found ourselves chatting about the possibility of forming an ensemble and we all decided that what we wanted was to focus on shining a light on works written by women and commissioning new works. It was shortly thereafter that our trio, at the beginning of 2019, The Alma Ensemble, was born, named in honor of Alma Mahler.

Farther down the rabbit hole, at the beginning of 2020, I was thrilled to be able to finally meet in person Sandra Mogensen, a pianist who had long been a friend of mine on Twitter. She was in the United States to present some recitals and presentations to celebrate and announce the release of her first recordings in a series she's doing called "En pleine lumière" which features all works composed by women. In talking with her during her visit I think we both realized that we shared many of the same frustrations, especially in terms of finding scores for these composers whose voices really need to be heard. When they can be found they are often significantly more expensive, sometimes prohibitively so. Another point we also found ourselves frustrated by is that many anthologies and method books for pianists just beginning their journey don't feature female composers. At that point in our discussion we started trying to figure out what we could do and it dawned on us that both of us had regularly been looking to the online resource, IMSLP to find scores. We decided that perhaps we could both comb through the listings and create a shareable spreadsheet that would list all of the piano pieces composed by women on the site. With IMSLP being a free resource, this would ensure that anyone who had access to a computer could also have access to the music that's there. Sandra agreed to start at "A," I started at "Z" working backwards, and we eventually met in the middle. By the summer we had our spreadsheet roughly put together.  Part I was complete.

Part II of our project started at the end of the summer. We created a YouTube channel, Piano Music, She Wrote, and started posting our own recording of works we've discovered in our IMSLP quest. So far we've faithfully posted 2 every week. We now stand at over 40 videos and have many, many more to go! 

We now find ourselves in Part III. We set ourselves the goal of releasing our spreadsheet publicly once our YouTube channel reached 300 subscribers. Last weekend our goal was achieved! So now, if people want an easy, quick way to discover the piano pieces written by women that have scores on IMSLP available to download for free, folks can head to our Ko-Fi store. We are asking for a minimum donation of $10.00 US to get the url for our spreadsheet. That is to cover the hundreds of hours we've already put into this project and will continue to put into it. This spreadsheet is a living, breathing one. We'll regularly be updating it as new works are added to the score database. We are also donating 10% of every donation back to IMSLP since without them, none of this would have been possible.  

We've had several people mention that purchasing access to the spreadsheet on behalf of others, like piano students or teachers, would make a great virtual stocking stuffer, holiday gift, or graduation gift and we couldn't agree more. To make that possible, when purchasing access, any quantity can be selected. If people have 10 pianists they'd like to send the url to, they can simply select "10" as the quantity and then voilá, they'll be all set. 

Here's our video announcement about our spreadsheet in case you want to learn more: 

And here's a shorter, 2 minute version of the same video if you're short on time:

Sandra and I have many more stages forthcoming so stay tuned! We'd also like to start planning a world tour once this pandemic is all said and done so if anyone wants us to come share what we've learned, both through recitals and presentations, let us know! 

Back to the rabbit hole analogy. I feel like I'm still only a fraction of the way down this hole and I couldn't be more thrilled about that. There is clearly much more to discover. Often I find myself researching one composition and am led to another fantastic one...and then another...and another. It never seems to end. So much music I've never heard, so many composers I've never heard of but should have!  Thankfully there are many others out there who are also on this same journey. I encourage anyone else who's interested to join in the fun and to share what you find. Let's get more of this fantastic music accessible and available to all. I think Für Elise and The Happy Farmer would be happy to step aside for a while. 

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New YouTube series - Bach in 5 Minutes!

Video editing has always intimidated me but I've been determined, especially after putting up my Patreon page, to start working on doing more of them. Here's the first hopefully of many. A Bach friend of mine recently recommended I take a break from Book II of Bach's Well-Tempered Klavier to learn Book I. I was hesitant at first but after reading through it I realized that for the most part, it's a breath of fresh air compared to the second book. So I thought, why not try to learn them as quickly as possible? I most likely will regret those words but I do always like a good challenge. So I'm going to try to spend as little as possible time learning as many as I can, relying on my typical pattern-hunting and analysis method, then spending around 5 minutes walking through each one, one at a time, and then recording a "first performance" of them. My goals for the project are:  

• Learn the Preludes and Fugues in Book I quickly
• Help folks see what I mean by learning music via pattern hunting and analysis
• Show how fun, musical, and rewarding it can be to learn music in this way

We'll see what happens! Enjoy!! 

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Making sense of Strauss through botany

Yes, you read that correctly.  In the course of this one blog post I am going to attempt to use a brief study in botany to unravel an issue I am having in the accompaniment to a song by Richard Strauss.

Ready?

My problem started with a rehearsal I had with a student vocalist.  I was sightreading Strauss' song, Gefunden.  Everything was going along swimmingly and I was thoroughly enjoying the tranquillity of the piece when we reached the last four measures of the song.  All of a sudden I felt incredibly disoriented.  I stopped the singer, looked at her part to make sure she was singing her line correctly, looked at my part to make sure I was playing the right notes, and then said, "Something isn't right.  I think there must be a mistake in the music."  The singer told me she had sung it over the summer and didn't remember anyone mentioning any misprints in the score so we decided to proceed as if all was well, with me declaring at the end of rehearsal that I would look into the misprint possibility.

 Last night I decided to face the music and see what I could make of the situation.  Pulling out the score and opening my laptop to YouTube I found a reputable recording and took a listen.  According to Hans Hotter and Geoffrey Parsons, musicians I figured I could trust, my score was, alas, correct.  Ugh.  Why? Why? Why?

Never wanting to grow enemies with something, especially in music, I decided to do what I do when I find myself starting to glower at the piano or the music.  I became determined to figure out what on earth Strauss was thinking when he wrote the part I didn't like.  (Notice the past tense there...this post is going to have a happy ending!)

The first thing I did was I looked up the translation of the song, reading first through the entire poem, and then focusing on the text in my thorn-in-my-side spot.  Here is a link in case you're curious.  It's a lovely poem by Goethe...the protagonist walks in the woods, encounters a flower which he bends down to pick, has a little conversation with same flower who asks him not to pick her, he digs it up instead and replants it near a house where it grows and blooms.  Lovely, right?  So what are the words when the crunchy, dissonant part occurs?  Here they are:

Now it keeps growing
and goes on blooming. 

OK.  Well, that didn't explain anything to me.  I still didn't get what Strauss is doing because I can't see any hint of negativity or angst in those words so I decided to try something else - looking at some theory.

Now before anyone stops reading this post out of fear and distaste for theory, let me assure you, this is not going to get terribly messy.  I am not a music theory nerd and I didn't do that well at it in school but I've always tried to apply it to my understanding of the pieces I'm working on.  My journey with theory, I'm sure, will never end and I'm always trying to learn more through direct application.  With that said, let's look at the score.

I'm great at looking at keys so let's do that and see if it gets us anywhere.  The song is in F major and for the most part it's straight-forward harmonically, although he does move into A-flat major several times.  But then we get to the first measure on the bottom line, which is pictured above.  Here, the piano, with no warning at all, goes into D-flat major while this time, the voice stays in F major.  F and D-flat major are not the closest of keys and if you look at that first measure you'll see that while the singer is singing a D the piano is playing A-flats, G-flats, E-flats, and C's.  Oh my - lots of dissonance!  Even at the end of that measure, the singer moves down to a C but there's also a D-flat just a half-step up from that in the piano part.  The second measure is not quite as crunchy but I feel pretty confused about where Strauss is going harmonically until the second half of the measure when the piano part abruptly shifts yet again, but this time back to F major to join what the voice has been doing all along.

At this point in my investigation I was intrigued.  I felt like I was definitely onto something.  I looked back at the text again, read the entire poem several times, and tried to picture what was going on.  It was then that the proverbial lightbulb went off over my head.

In this story, a flower, roots and all, gets dug up, carried away, and transplanted to a different location.  I'm not a great gardener but I have tried my hands at it enough to know that moving plants from one place to another has its risks.  Transplant shock is a real possibility which can cause a plant to die.  Perhaps that is what is happening in these two measures at the end of Gefunden.  The piano part is like the plant being suddenly plopped in a completely different place, dealing with new soil, light, and exposure to the elements.  There is a sense of conflict and discomfort.  By the middle of the second measure, however, it has thankfully adjusted and finds itself growing and thriving once again.

Perhaps I'm being far-fetched but in my mind, who cares?  What matters is that now I have an explanation, at least for myself, of why the accompaniment is the way it is.  And now I am eager to try it out with the singer and to see what I can do to make it all work together in the artistic way Strauss probably intended.

Success!  I told you this would have a happy ending, as virtually all my musical investigations do.

I'll leave you in the hands of Hotter and Parsons...enjoy!





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A fresh new view of "technique"

I have been told ever since I was a little girl that I have great, natural technique.  But here's the odd thing - I have consistently avoided practicing technique all of my life.  As a matter of fact, and this is the first time I've publicly admitted this, when I was getting my undergrad degree in piano performance at the Eastman School of Music and studying with Nelita True, I stealthily defied her rules and got through my three or four years with her without ever passing her technique exam.  

Before you judge me, let me tell you, if you just knew what it was like, you'd completely understand!  Even the thought of this technique exam gave people nightmares!  Everything was on it - every scale in every direction, contrary motion, thirds, sixths, and octaves.  I think Mr. Hanon was involved...Moszkowski too.  And of course the metronome marking at which this all had to be delivered was practically off the metronome it was so fast.  The routine went on and on in one continuous, devilish whirlwind of pianistic madness.  I got knots in my stomach every time one of my studio mates performed it in studio class.  That's right.  Her students were expected to perform it in front of the entire studio.

Yeesh.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't necessarily see anything bad about this requirement.  I just didn't have the nerve to do it myself and it didn't help that I had always been told that I had good technique naturally. "Why bother?" I asked myself.

Of course this stealthy move of mine so many years ago regularly comes back to haunt me.  It also makes me ponder how it is that I can have good technique even though I've never focused on it.  I'm not exactly sure of the answer but I do have some thoughts that were reignited after watching a short clip of Leon Fleisher that Graham Fitch had posted on his Facebook page the other day.  It is just over a minute long and really needs to be watched!



Here is my transcription of what he said...please forgive any inaccuracies.  I think it's so good it needs to be in writing too.

“I think technique is the ability to produce what you want.  The presupposition is that you want something.  So before going to the piano and practicing, training your muscles which is a waste of time because it's not in the muscles - it’s in the brain, it’s in the inner ear.  You have to hear, Schnabel used to say it all the time, you have to hear before you play.  If you play before you hear what you’re going for, it’s an accident and then everything is built then on an accident.   So want something, hear it…go for and experiment, do outrageous things.  You know, when you’re in the privacy of your studio, what a luxury.  No metronome police, nothing.  You can try whatever you want. So experiment."

So many great thoughts in a very short amount of time.  Right now I want to focus on one little phrase - "training your muscles which is a waste of time because it's not in the muscles - it's in the brain, it's in the inner ear."  I'm not just trying to make pathetic excuses for my lack of bravery or my laziness by pointing this out - I truly believe what Fleisher is getting at here.  At least in my own experience, if I have the music clearly in my head, if I've determined exactly what I want from a particular passage, even a technically demanding one, there is very little I have to do at the piano to make it work right.  Yes, I need to make sure I have good fingerings, which can largely be figured out away from the piano but paired with a complete understanding of each and every note and rhythm, accompanied by an internalization of what the music means to me, that's all I need along with a handful of repetitions.  A handful!  Not 100 like I've heard some people use as a benchmark for thorough practice.  If that was my expectation, I would have quit music ages ago!  

Some people might respond to my last paragraph saying, "Yeah, but that's you!  You said it yourself, you've always had good technique!"

Right.  But maybe I've always had good technique because I have always had a very good inner ear that guides my hands - I don't let my body get in the way.  I have worked with so many students that don't appear to have a natural technique yet when I guide them through a process of audiating difficult passages in isolation and then encourage them to stop trying to physically control what they are doing at their instrument, they are amazed at how quickly all their problems are cleared up.  They feel like it should be harder to fix.  A few minutes of intense brain and ear work, which is usually a completely new experience for them, can make hours of repetitive practice and frustration obsolete.  My conclusion after witnessing this work countless times, is that our bodies are smarter than we often give them credit for.  Having a crisp, clear aural picture of what needs to happen is enough - the body can more often than not translate brilliantly what's in our heads and ears with far greater ease and accuracy.

With all this said, it makes me wonder if I should fess up to Nelita True and ask her if I can finally take her technique exam so that I can live the rest of my life without guilt.  If I do, maybe I'll test my hypothesis about mental learning and try preparing for it away from the piano. You never know, it may feel like a piece of cake that way!

Or maybe not.  Any votes on what I should do?  And Dr. True, feel free to chime in yourself!

Gulp.


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New livestreaming project! "Practice on a Dime of Time"

I've decided to get back into livestreaming my practice sessions.  This time my goal is to record in shorter segments, between 10 and 20 minutes at a time which is why I'm calling this series, as corny as it is, "Practice on a Dime of Time."  My thought is that:

• people don't have time to listen to me practice all day.
• I don't have time to practice all day.
• I have a difficult time finding large blocks of time when our piano is available to play since my husband uses the studio to teach much of the day.
• it's better for me (and most people) to practice in small little segments.
• it might be interesting and informative for people to see that improvement can actually happen in a short amount of time.

For those of you who have never seem me do this, it's probably helpful to know that I narrate what's going on in my head while I'm practicing.  You'll see and hear me give myself feedback (hopefully in a civil way), problem solve, test out various strategies, and explore musical choices in the process.  And yes, you will probably catch some not-so-good practice strategies as well - I am human, after all.  I actually think there's value in seeing me flail every now and then.

My goal is to do this on a regular basis but I'll be pretty sporadic in terms of what time of day I'll be livestreaming.  I will tweet and post on my Facebook page when I'm about to go live so keep an eye on my postings if you want to catch one.  I'll also be checking the social media streams in between sessions so if you have a pressing question that arises while watching, let me know and I'll try to answer you promptly.

If you miss the livestream sessions you'll be able to watch them on my ustream channel for up to 30 days or on my YouTube playlist at any time.

Here are my three sessions from today.  I particularly love (hear the sarcasm!) the thumbnail image that accompanies the first video - yikes!  I hope you find something useful in watching them and please do spread the word!











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Creativity Discovered: The Norwegian Chamber Orchestra's choreographed "Holberg Suite"

It's been 4 years since I last posted a "Creativity Discovered" post.  That's not to say that nothing creative has happened during this time - quite the opposite really!  But recently I came across a series of YouTube videos that has made me realize that I should get back to posting about some of the inspiring performances I've been hearing about and seeing.

© laufer - Fotolia.com

To kick off this series again, I want to share the Norwegian Chamber Orchestra's partially choreographed performance of Edvard Grieg's Holberg Suite, Op. 40.  Written in 1884, the composer based the 5 movements on 18th century dance forms.  I think it can be tempting as musicians to perform these older dances in a somewhat restrained fashion which might befit some dances but when we consider that many of them originated from folk dances it makes me wonder if we could stand to loosen up and to treat the music in a more carefree way.

That's what the Norwegian Chamber Orchestra did with their performance.  Their choice of clothing, their approach to the music and each other, along with the choreography, work together to give me the impression that I'm at a country fair, sitting on a fence to take in or even join in the festivities.  I just love it!  And I have a sneaking suspicion the musicians enjoyed it too.  That is evident from their body language and the expressions on their faces throughout.

But enough of me jabbering on about them, here they are.  My favorite, in case you're interested or if you only have a little time to watch, is the last movement, the Rigaudon.  If nothing else, watch that one!   And if you want a link to my playlist of all of them, click here.

Enjoy!

And if anyone knows of any other inspiring, creative performances I should watch, please do let me know by leaving a comment.

Praeludium



Sarabande



Gavotte



Air



Rigaudon





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Impressions from the stage: University of Maryland's choreographed production of "Appalachian Spring"

About a month ago I saw a post on a young friend's Facebook page about participating in an event at the University of Maryland that immediately grabbed my attention.  A violinist and a dancer attending the school, Lillian Cannon, performed in a memorized, conductor-less, and here's the clincher, choreographed version of Aaron Copland's Appalachian Spring.  After reading the brief but ecstatic post on Cannon's page as well as Anne Midgette's wonderful article for the Washington Post  I was eager to see it for myself.  Only a few weeks after the performance the YouTube video was up and I watched, moved the entire time by the intimacy of the rendition but also by the incredible bravery of the students who challenged themselves in so many ways in order to present something unique and powerful.

If you haven't yet watched it, here it is.  I would recommend watching it before reading the rest of this post.




I was so excited to know someone who had participated I decided that I wanted to find out more from her about what the experience was like for the students.  Lillian graciously accepted my request to answer some questions so that we could all soak in the experience and perhaps gain courage and ideas from this project.  Many thanks to her for taking the time to answer so thoughtfully.

ES:  Were you at the University’s first performance like this where they performed a choreographed version of Debussy’s “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun?” or had you watched it prior to working on “Appalachian Spring?”   If you did, what were your thoughts, reservations, reactions? 

LC: UMSO performed the choreographed Debussy the year before I was there so I never saw the live performance but I watched the video on YouTube before beginning Appalachian Spring. I thought it was beautifully done and they sounded very good but (maybe because I’m biased) but I thought Appalachian Spring was at a whole other level than the Debussy. I think we took many more risks because the Debussy was such a success and both James Ross and Liz Lerman thought our orchestra was capable of doing so. Appalachian Spring was also almost twice as long as Debussy which was a project all on its own.

ES: What was the process for getting involved with this particular production?  Was it required participation or did you audition, sign up, etc.?  If you had a choice about whether or not to be involved, why did you choose to be a part of it? 
 

LC:  If you watch the video of Appalachian Spring, you will probably notice that it is not a full orchestra performing it. Our orchestra was split up for this past semester, with half of us working on Appalachian Spring and the other half working with opera students to perform “Die Fledermaus “. We came back together as a whole to perform the second half of the spring concert. Back in August at the beginning of the school year, we got our orchestra audition music, and with that, we got a survey sheet that asked if we would be willing to participate in a Copland music/movement collaboration and we could either put our interest in for the project or decline. I chose to put my interest in for it because it was something I have never done before and it was extremely out of my playing comfort zone.

ES:  How many months were spent preparing for this event?   What was the process like for putting it together?   How much of the choreography was given to you?  Did the orchestra members have a say in what you did? 

LC: We started rehearsals almost right after we got back from winter break, so probably the first week of February. The first rehearsals were definitely the hardest because we were looking at the music for the first time and it was just all very overwhelming for everyone I think. I think what helped a lot was having a chamber group of 13 people (4 violins, 2 violas, 2 celli, 1 double bass, a flute, clarinet, bassoon, and pianist) who were basically the leaders of this project. They met for extra rehearsals every week and began learning and memorizing the music before the rest of us did (in the video, they are the first and last players to play). This group helped guide the rest of us and kind of grounded the whole process I think. I know one of the biggest problems we had as a group (that the chamber group definitely helped with), was the amount of times we had to switch time signatures in that piece. Switching meters conductor-less was not easy to say the least. It forced us all to listen and feel the music much more than simply memorizing it. Most of the choreography was a collaboration of the idea Liz Lerman and our conductor, James Ross had envisioned, with the some of the ideas from the orchestra members thrown in. I think a lot of our ideas though, were more geared towards restrictions that we had with some of the movements and also having to play our instruments. A lot of the original ideas for this piece were modified so that we could also still play while doing them. 

ES: I am so impressed that this was done all by memory.  Were you given guidance as to how to go about memorizing such a large work?  Did you feel that having the choreography helped or hindered with the process of memorizing?

LC: At the first rehearsal we all had together, Professor Ross gave us all a little guide on tips for memorizing such a big work. It included things such as turning in a circle while you had your music in front of you, closing your eyes at more familiar sections, etc. At every rehearsal, we also had a huge projector up with the score so that we could get out of our own parts more and look at the score for guidance (I personally don’t think the projected score helped much though). We basically memorized the entire piece in sections, starting with the easier ones such as “Simple Gifts”. We would kind of start by memorizing one section, learning the section before or after it, then trying to put the two together until we had the whole thing memorized. I think at first, the choreography hindered the process of memorizing the piece, because we were so focused on learning that particular choreography, that we couldn’t remember the notes. Once we started getting real chunks of things choreographed and pieced together is when it began aiding the memorization process.

ES: Since you also had the choreography to deal with in this performance did you find performing a different experience than a typical orchestra or solo performance?   If so, how was it different?

LC: This performance was so beyond any other orchestra or solo playing experience. We were trying to tell a story with this piece and it not only had to come through in our music, but also our movement. It became so much more breathtaking to me when we all got out of our heads and committed to getting our story across to an audience. Ms. Lerman and Professor Ross wanted a lot of our emotion to come from the inside, so I think what made this piece so amazing is the fact that the audience wasn’t seeing the same emotions and the same story from every person performing. We were all performing from an emotion that was personal to us.

ES: Since you have had a lot of experience dancing yourself, do you think that helped you in this situation? 

LC:  Definitely. Memorizing choreography is something I’ve been doing my whole life so that part came so easily to me. It gave me more time to work on memorizing the music (which was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be). I think a lot of people struggled because memorizing a large chunk of choreography in a short amount of time is something they’ve never had to do before, let alone play music at the same time.

ES:  What was the dynamic of the orchestra as a whole as a result of being a part of such a unique performance?  Do you think you were more eager to promote others to come to the event?  Why or why not?

LC:  I think at first we were all really apprehensive about the whole thing, and I know none of us thought this was actually all going to come together (we were still having these doubts in April). At the same time, I think we were able to connect much more as an orchestra because we were forced to interact with every person on stage, whether they played the same instrument as you or not. You couldn’t rely on the rest of your section for guidance or to help you out on a section that maybe you weren’t as comfortable with because chances are, you were not standing around any of them for the majority of the performance. It took me a long time to really feel like this was going to be a worthwhile performance for people to see, but when it finally came together, I was so excited to be able to share it with an audience because I knew it was going to be beautiful.

ES:  What did you enjoy most about the experience?

LC:  My favorite part of the whole thing was seeing the audience at the very end when we were all laying our instruments down at the front of the stage as our “final offering”. I had always thought that was such a neat idea but I had no idea it was going to make such an impact on people. Seeing people moved to tears is really a powerful moment.

ES:  What did you not like as much or what did you struggle with, if anything?

LC:  Like I said before, I really did not enjoy the first month or so of rehearsals. We didn’t have it memorized enough to start learning solid choreography so there wasn’t much we could really do in terms of bringing this piece to life. I think it was pretty disorganized for a while because we were all trying to figure out how we were going to pull the entire thing off.

ES:  Would you do an event like this again?  Why or why not?

LC:  I would do it again in a heartbeat. It turned out to be such a neat experience and being able to pull off a performance like that is unforgettable. I think we were all able to connect with the music on a much deeper level and play together as a group better than we ever have.

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What happens when beauty, optimism and music meet

One of the goals that directs my day-to-day living is to lead an optimistic, beautiful, and musical life.  It's a bit "pie-in-the-sky," I realize, but I am stubborn, and I am determined.  Several years ago as I was perusing twitter and the internet,  I happened upon a video that is living proof that this idealistic desire is actually possible to attain.  On his extremely informative blog, The Collaborative Pianist, Chris Foley posted a youtube video called, "Dancing Under the Gallows." It was a fifteen minute preview of a documentary about Alice Herz-Sommer, who at the time, was a 106-year old woman and is the oldest survivor of the Holocaust.  Because she was an accomplished concert pianist in Prague when World War II broke out, Ms. Herz and her son were sent to Theriesenstadt, a German concentration camp that was set aside for artists and musicians and that served as a smoke-screen for what was going on at the other concentration camps.  It was there that she and others were forced to perform.  For some this was a horrific requirement but for others, like Ms. Herz, this provided light in the midst of their nightmare.  I have a difficult time being able to imagine being in such a situation but this documentary has given me a tiny glimpse into such an upside-down world.

I just received word from the producer that they have completed the documentary.  It is now available on DVD or through rental by clicking on this link.   Here is the promotional video to give you a taste of this remarkable woman.

In Ms. Herz, I see nothing but beauty and love for everyone and everything around her.  Her words are saturated with optimism, her voice, the sound of tenderness.  The power and magic of music are undeniable.  Beauty, optimism, and music are interwoven in this one woman's life, making music tangibly relevant and necessary.

What an incredible gift.

"I love people.  I love to speak with them...I am interested in the life of other people."

"I knew that we will play...and I was thinking, "When we can play, it can't be so terrible.  The music, the music!"

"But in every day life is beautiful.  Every day...you can speak about everything...no? It's beautiful."

"I felt that this is the only thing which helps me to...to have hope.  It's a sort of religion, actually.  Music is...is God."

"Sometimes it happens that I am thankful to have been there.  Because this gave me...I am richer than other people...All the complaints, "This is terrible."  It's not so terrible."

"I never hate and I will never hate.  Hatred breeds only hatred."

"I was born with a very, very good optimist.  And this helps you.  When you are optimistic, when you are not complaining, when you look at the good side of our life, everybody loves you."

"Only when we are so old, only, we are aware of the beauty of life."

-Alice Herz-Sommer 

Whether you choose to watch the short clip above or to purchase or rent the documentary, my hope is that some of Ms. Herz's words will inspire and uplift you.  Music is a gift, even in the darkest of places.  

May music continue to be in our lives, no matter where we may find ourselves.  And many thanks to Ms. Herz for the inspiration, faith, and love that can't be extinguished.  

Looking through a Russian musical window - Shostakovich's E minor Prelude & Fugue

The other day I happened upon this video of Shostakovich performing his own Prelude and Fugue in E Minor:  

It's a piece I have been wanting to pull out of the closet again because it's one that, through the years, has given me an incredible glimpse of another culture through the window of music. When I hear or play it I am instantly transported back about 20 years, when I was fortunate enough to accompany a boy's choir to St. Petersburg, Russia, not long after the fall of communism in their country.  It was quite a trip - one that opened my eyes, not only through what I myself saw and experienced, but also from watching a group of young American boys take in and process this completely different culture.  When we were there we were housed in what seemed to be an abandoned, run-down estate on the gulf of Finland; boys were having a difficult time finding anything they were willing to eat and lived for the moments when we discovered a Coca-Cola vendor on the street; fruit was scarce and purchased from the black market for us by security agents assigned to our choir who realized the boys weren't eating; meals for the entire choir in good restaurants could be paid for using what amounted to only a few American dollars.

Yet in spite of what seemed like hard times to us, the people, landscape, architecture, churches - all had hope and beauty in addition to a sense of history that I don't think we Americans understand in the same way.  It was tangible everywhere we went.  There was a pride in culture and in who they were as a people.  From the security agents, to the babushka docents in the museums who were unabashedly protecting their country's treasures from a flock of young boys, to the singers in the Russian Orthodox churches, they all made it clear to us that they wanted us there, wanted to hear our music, and wanted to share whatever they had to offer with us, including their love of music.

Their incredible love of music.

Photo from Wikimedia Commons

Most of the festival was held in the St. Petersburg Philharmonia, pictured here.  It is a hall whose walls have absorbed the magic of Liszt, Berlioz, Mahler, Wagner, Rubinstein, and Shostakovich just to name a few.  It is a stunning a hall that was completely filled every performance.  And afterward we would leave in a post-concert daze to be greeted at the stage entrance by a mob of enthusiastic fans wanting autographs and handshakes from us all.  There was one woman in particular that made a point of always finding us and greeting us.  She was a choir director herself in St. Petersburg and was always wanting to know more about the pieces we had sung, and in particular, Mozart's "Ave Verum."  She told us through our translator  one evening that it was very difficult to obtain sheet music so she had little exposure to pieces like that and regretted that she couldn't share them with her choir.  The next day she appeared at the stage door yet again, full of tears, handshakes and compliments.  Our choir director quickly gathered up the boys, retrieved their folders from them, and pulled out each copy of "Ave Verum," handing them all over to her.  The look on her face is permanently embedded in my memory.  It was a look of shock, disbelief, and gratitude.  The scenario threw me, and a I think the boys in our choir, for a bit of a loop.  It was difficult for me to fully comprehend the situation in Russia at that time which made it virtually, if not completely impossible for the people to obtain scores for some of the most loved pieces - scores that in the United States could be found in practically every choral library and that could be purchased fairly easily.  Needless to say it made me appreciate our local music store.  (And yes, those used to exist.)

© Popova Olga - Fotolia.com

So what does this story have to do with Shostakovich's Prelude and Fugue?  What I hear in this music is something that might have been incomprehensible in the same way had I not had those experiences in Russia.  At first listening this set might seem dark, desolate, and hopeless but what I sense is the light, warmth, and hope I sensed inlaid in everyday life, creating a complex beauty that I see in the beautiful inlaid woodwork that we saw everywhere in St. Petersburg.  I sensed this throughout the tour and since then, through reading Russian literature and taking in their history and culture.  And in this most incredible fugue, a double fugue, in which two themes and their countersubjects intertwine to create a complex, musical design, the Russian sentiment is poured on top of me in an undeniable way.  It never fails to make me want to weep and cheer, all at the same time.

And one final note about this particular performance.  I simply love listening to composers playing their own compositions and this example is no exception.  Is it note perfect?  Far from it.  Is it still effective?  In my mind, definitely, if not more so!  

Something for me to keep in mind.

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Think again! Destroying judgemental mental tapes while performing

© max5128 - Fotolia.com

"I can't believe you missed that!"

"What kind of musician do you think you are?"

"You don't deserve to be up here!"

"I can't believe they're paying money to hear you!"

"You should have practiced that part more!"

Sound at all familiar?  I think most musicians have had tapes like these run through their head at some point during a performance.  In my experience they can completely destroy a performance, not only for myself but also for the audience.  These tapes can pull everyone out of the music.  They make the focus on ourselves even though in those moments that's the last thing we want.

So what can we do when we make that inevitable first mistake in a performance and one of those tapes starts playing?  

In an earlier post I wrote about dealing with performance anxiety I mentioned creating an alternative, non judgemental tape to quickly turn on as soon as one of the negative ones pops up.  Mine, for instance is, "SING!"  (Yes, it needs to be capitalized.) I repeat this word over and over again until I start singing the music in my head while I'm playing.  If I'm accompanying someone, I sing their line; if I'm playing solo I sing the melody.  What I have discovered is that when I do this there's no way my mind can come up with anything else - it's too busy with the act of singing.  Whether it takes me a few measures or a few pages - heck, even a whole movement to work,  it never fails to pull me away from focusing on myself and immersed back into the music.  

In my practice session today I discovered a variation of this technique that can be nurtured in the practice room and carried onto the stage when it's time to perform.  When I am learning a new piece of music I work in small chunks, identifying from the get-go what patterns there are in the music.  The patterns can be related to harmonies, melodic movement, repeated motives...I try to make sense out of the notes on the page so that they belong together and are no longer individual notes on the page.  This makes the process of learning the notes much quicker, infuses musicality into my practicing, and gives me something to think about the entire time I'm practicing so that I don't get sucked into the land of the practice doldrums.  It prevents me from doing that mindless, rote practicing that I engaged in for so much of my life and that requires way too many repetitions to make any progress in a realistic timeframe.  It's also in those mindless practice sessions that those judgemental mental tapes can be born and developed to a harmful degree.  Our minds have to have something to do, right?  

Right.  But why not give our brains something more productive to think about.  Starting in the practice room, why not feed our brains information that we can use even when we are performing?  Distractions are inevitable when we're on stage but when I have these mental tapes I created in the practice room playing that narrate what's going on in the music it's less likely.  

If you're curious about this process I go through to learn new music, here is a video of today's practice session.  I tried to narrate my thought process as much as possible - hopefully you can pick up on some of that.

Video streaming by Ustream

Next time you find your mind not treating yourself with respect, think again!  

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