Walking to school this morning I noticed the frost on the roof of the Columns for the first time. The sight took me back to the early days of the school when students and faculty lived and studied there. For a moment it was a picturesque bit of imagining.
Then I reminded myself of the hardships and uncertainties of 19th century life. I pictured faculty breaking some bad news to a student in a cold, candlelit room. I pictured the outburst that would have occurred in that horrible moment.
Our experience of life and the meaning of events often sink in or are expressed during specific moments. The expanse of day after day might leave little of note in our memories, but a single moment packed with significance can vibrate and consume us for years.
Sometimes music is designed that way. Composers like Schumann or Chopin or Prokofiev specialize in moments. Sometimes the structure or the integrated quality of their works might not seem to hold up under close scrutiny, but their very profound goal might very well be to convey moments that are full of character.
Another musical thought -
Some passages seem to be designed to focus us on sound - not its organization or where the music is going - only the beauty of the sounds we are hearing. And I'm not referring to passages in the music of Impressionists and more recent composers. A bit of Beethoven's Third Concerto started me thinking abot this. Today I noticed that the "Amen" of the Credo in Palestrina's Missa Pape Marcelli is also a moment of glorying in sound.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Greg Parker - voice recital
Last night, Dr. Parker (our departmental chairperson) gave a fine recital.
The thing I like most about Dr. Parker's singing is his musicality. He takes care with many musical details that quite a few other singers would simply ignore. In this way, his way of singing reminds me of Murray Perahia's piano playing. Perahia always expresses the music thoroughly, and to do so, he does a lot of things that are hard to do and that other pianists don't bother with. This extra care makes all the difference. We might say it really makes the performance into art.
The most memorable moments of the night for me were songs of Faure and Finzi that are such deep contemplations of love and loss. Those deep moments refreshed my sense of the value of classical music for humanity.
Finzi's set Let Us Garland's Bring continues to impress me in that the music works so well with the texts. I think it must be very hard to write music for Shakespeare's texts that doesn't sound superfluous.
I'm grateful for arriving at fall break with a greater sense of purpose and an understanding of what it means to teach here and how to go about it. I am really pleased with the quality of my colleagues in the music department. Each one offers very high quality work, and I believe that our students have a great opportunity to learn because of the team that has been assembled here.
The thing I like most about Dr. Parker's singing is his musicality. He takes care with many musical details that quite a few other singers would simply ignore. In this way, his way of singing reminds me of Murray Perahia's piano playing. Perahia always expresses the music thoroughly, and to do so, he does a lot of things that are hard to do and that other pianists don't bother with. This extra care makes all the difference. We might say it really makes the performance into art.
The most memorable moments of the night for me were songs of Faure and Finzi that are such deep contemplations of love and loss. Those deep moments refreshed my sense of the value of classical music for humanity.
Finzi's set Let Us Garland's Bring continues to impress me in that the music works so well with the texts. I think it must be very hard to write music for Shakespeare's texts that doesn't sound superfluous.
I'm grateful for arriving at fall break with a greater sense of purpose and an understanding of what it means to teach here and how to go about it. I am really pleased with the quality of my colleagues in the music department. Each one offers very high quality work, and I believe that our students have a great opportunity to learn because of the team that has been assembled here.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Sad
I'm feeling a little sad today.
Last night was my performance with clarinetist David Niethamer here at Chowan. David is a great clarinetist and a friend for several years. This performance was the last of two. I should have planned more! We've been aiming to do some concerts together for a couple of years now, and these two concerts were the culmination of that. I'm sad in part because that collaboration is over for now. We hope to work together again in the future.
I'm also sad that I didn't do the best I could in this final performance. Whether it sounded good or not is one issue, but I'm not thinking of that right now. What I'm unhappy about is that I could have done better, and I know how I could have done better.
Many times when I perform I am reminded of basic lessons that I never seem to learn and apply!
Here are some of them:
Have a clearly articulated plan for yourself and your performance.
This plan should include specific directions that you need to hear everytime you play a given work as these diections are precautionary measures that can head off big problems. For example, it is much better to start the third movement of Jim Guthrie's Clarinet Sonata too slow than too fast!
Don't allow yourself to be distracted by anything short of a medical emergency or a hazardous happening. While you want to relate to the audience, their presence and behavior should not distract you from the task at hand. And what is going on inside of the performer should also not be a distraction to the performer. Thoughts of who is listening, desires to impress, emotions or attempts to display emotion, etc. can all short circuit achievement in performance.
More and more I find that my goal ought to be to think and behave professionally, and to sound professional. That is the best I can do. If I do that well, I think music and the audience will be served. I also think that is how I can do my work "as unto the Lord." Offering my very best effort seems to be what that biblical injuction is all about for me.
As I walked Sophie (our dog) this morning, I thought about how beautiful the campus and the surrounding woods are. It was a foggy morning, and that drew me into being more sensitive than usual to the effects of color and light. That experience was rich in beauty. It made me emotional. But there was no emotion in the fog, in the trees, in the light.
As those of you who read this blog regularly know, I struggle with the place and meaning of emotion in the performance. Today it seems clear to me that me exhibiting emotion in performance is not necessarily the same thing as listeners having an emotional experience through my performance. They might experience my emotions, but I want them to experience their emotions.
Sometimes we approach performance is if it's a competition to see who can demonstrate the strongest emotions. Put that way, it seems very odd.
It may even be appropriate to keep some sort of objectivity in performance. Visibly empathizing with whatever emotion we think is in a work might compromise our independence and send that same compromised vibe into the audience. The musical object is beautiful and I ought handle it and present it with care.
I'm not advocating for emotionless or energyless performance. I'm noting that a performer's emotion may or may not be really well-suited to the work at hand. As Richard Becker put it so elequently when he spoke at Chowan last year, it is the music that we are expressing. Self-expression is a different activity.
I've been watching Sviatoslav Richter on Youtube lately. In the films I've seen, he almost always seems to be expressing the music, not himself. His motions, expressions, attitude, etc. seem to fit the form of the music and never fall short or push beyond what the music is saying.
I think I've often missed the charm, elegance, and beauty of the works I play by injecting too much of myself - particularly aspects of myself that are not really in sync with the work at hand. We want to be immediate, visceral, and stirring in our day and age, but that might not be the way every work works or is designed to work.
Last night was my performance with clarinetist David Niethamer here at Chowan. David is a great clarinetist and a friend for several years. This performance was the last of two. I should have planned more! We've been aiming to do some concerts together for a couple of years now, and these two concerts were the culmination of that. I'm sad in part because that collaboration is over for now. We hope to work together again in the future.
I'm also sad that I didn't do the best I could in this final performance. Whether it sounded good or not is one issue, but I'm not thinking of that right now. What I'm unhappy about is that I could have done better, and I know how I could have done better.
Many times when I perform I am reminded of basic lessons that I never seem to learn and apply!
Here are some of them:
Have a clearly articulated plan for yourself and your performance.
This plan should include specific directions that you need to hear everytime you play a given work as these diections are precautionary measures that can head off big problems. For example, it is much better to start the third movement of Jim Guthrie's Clarinet Sonata too slow than too fast!
Don't allow yourself to be distracted by anything short of a medical emergency or a hazardous happening. While you want to relate to the audience, their presence and behavior should not distract you from the task at hand. And what is going on inside of the performer should also not be a distraction to the performer. Thoughts of who is listening, desires to impress, emotions or attempts to display emotion, etc. can all short circuit achievement in performance.
More and more I find that my goal ought to be to think and behave professionally, and to sound professional. That is the best I can do. If I do that well, I think music and the audience will be served. I also think that is how I can do my work "as unto the Lord." Offering my very best effort seems to be what that biblical injuction is all about for me.
As I walked Sophie (our dog) this morning, I thought about how beautiful the campus and the surrounding woods are. It was a foggy morning, and that drew me into being more sensitive than usual to the effects of color and light. That experience was rich in beauty. It made me emotional. But there was no emotion in the fog, in the trees, in the light.
As those of you who read this blog regularly know, I struggle with the place and meaning of emotion in the performance. Today it seems clear to me that me exhibiting emotion in performance is not necessarily the same thing as listeners having an emotional experience through my performance. They might experience my emotions, but I want them to experience their emotions.
Sometimes we approach performance is if it's a competition to see who can demonstrate the strongest emotions. Put that way, it seems very odd.
It may even be appropriate to keep some sort of objectivity in performance. Visibly empathizing with whatever emotion we think is in a work might compromise our independence and send that same compromised vibe into the audience. The musical object is beautiful and I ought handle it and present it with care.
I'm not advocating for emotionless or energyless performance. I'm noting that a performer's emotion may or may not be really well-suited to the work at hand. As Richard Becker put it so elequently when he spoke at Chowan last year, it is the music that we are expressing. Self-expression is a different activity.
I've been watching Sviatoslav Richter on Youtube lately. In the films I've seen, he almost always seems to be expressing the music, not himself. His motions, expressions, attitude, etc. seem to fit the form of the music and never fall short or push beyond what the music is saying.
I think I've often missed the charm, elegance, and beauty of the works I play by injecting too much of myself - particularly aspects of myself that are not really in sync with the work at hand. We want to be immediate, visceral, and stirring in our day and age, but that might not be the way every work works or is designed to work.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Stay within Yourself
Over the last few weeks, I've been thinking a bit about advice my pre-college teacher, Dr. Gene Barban, often gave me when I was studying with him.
As a developing pianist (I'm still developing, or disintegrating!) I often let my emotions about the music, about playing, about being in front of people, etc., take over. That often underminded or even sabataged my efforts at performing. The good work I had put into preparing would get mangled by my attitude when it came time to perform. To keep me focused on the essentials of the task at hand, Dr. Barban would tell me to stay within myself.
The advice is still very good for me today. My desire to express, to impress, and so forth, can still rob my playing of security, clarity, and even it's fullest meaning.
I'm starting to see that this lesson from music can and should be applied to life more much broadly. At work, I should stay within myself. Bad emotions - anger, resentment . . . should not color my work or my relationships. Also, complaining rarely helps. Instead, I should choose to be capable and fulfill my various responsibilities and be grateful for work!
If I deal with many of these sorts of problems internally and keep them from spilling over into the rest of my life, I find I am freed, challenged, and blessed to find a new way to think and a better way to care. There is space to pursue and share interests on my own and in my relationships. I become more grounded and open to joy.
In addition to giving more personal fulfillment, staying within oneself can also save coworkers and family members from spending their time on my problems and allows them to focus on their calling and responsibilities instead. The whole world can run more smoothly when we stay within ourselves in this way.
As a developing pianist (I'm still developing, or disintegrating!) I often let my emotions about the music, about playing, about being in front of people, etc., take over. That often underminded or even sabataged my efforts at performing. The good work I had put into preparing would get mangled by my attitude when it came time to perform. To keep me focused on the essentials of the task at hand, Dr. Barban would tell me to stay within myself.
The advice is still very good for me today. My desire to express, to impress, and so forth, can still rob my playing of security, clarity, and even it's fullest meaning.
I'm starting to see that this lesson from music can and should be applied to life more much broadly. At work, I should stay within myself. Bad emotions - anger, resentment . . . should not color my work or my relationships. Also, complaining rarely helps. Instead, I should choose to be capable and fulfill my various responsibilities and be grateful for work!
If I deal with many of these sorts of problems internally and keep them from spilling over into the rest of my life, I find I am freed, challenged, and blessed to find a new way to think and a better way to care. There is space to pursue and share interests on my own and in my relationships. I become more grounded and open to joy.
In addition to giving more personal fulfillment, staying within oneself can also save coworkers and family members from spending their time on my problems and allows them to focus on their calling and responsibilities instead. The whole world can run more smoothly when we stay within ourselves in this way.
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