Christmas Eve is one of the days of the year that feels sacred to me. It is a deep day that resonates with other Christmas Eves in other years and brings thoughts of both the spiritual meaning of the day and memories of the friends with whom I've spent it.
Today I find myself contemplating my blessings - friends near and far, family, work, home, the town where we live, and of course, music.
Several of this semesters's musical events have fed my soul and given me reasons for living. The first was Jim Guthrie's organ recital. To hear Jim playing so well and providing an afternoon of Frescobaldi made me feel like we really are holding up our end of the culture and that friends here are committed to the work of the arts that the world needs done. Jim played this music in such a way that even the casual listener could hear the various lines and their courses. And by playing this recital, he made myself and others personally aware of the greatness of Frescobaldi. The music has a sacred discursiveness about it. Its wanderings are like those of a soul in contemplation. Sometimes, tiny pipe sounds drew us up into a sense of some heavenly recess. There was always a sense of leading toward resolution, but it often came from somewhere other than where I expected, often culminating somewhere away from tonic. It was music full of thoughtful and unexpected harmonies that showed that lines can go many places. The experience refreshed my commitment to the art of music and its importance, as well as to my work here at Chowan.
The second invigorating event of the semester was the preparation for Handel's Messiah. Many of us at school and in the community were involved with rehearsals for this masterwork. Dr. Parker preached the texts of the work in these rehearsals, and we labored together as if we were trying to pull some great ship out into deep water so it could sail. The sense of being part of that huge process, of living life along that big trajectory along with many others, gave the semester shape and meaning. It was wonderful to be sharing this task with people of various age groups, races, and economic classes. And it was all done for the sake of the musical work and for its effectiveness when shared with the audience. I dare say that the world would be a better place if more people had something like this experience in their lives.
Finally, I think of how music can draw us into worhip. The Russian Christmas concert in Lasker was full of music that transported the listeners to other lands and sacred scenes. I look forward to tonight's Christmas Eve service which should do the same.
May our new year be full of more music that brings joy, peace, and meaning!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Christmas Images
Lo How a Rose E'er Blooming -
beautiful roses blooming in our yard on December first.
New use for a piano -
storage of musical Christmas ornaments at the Smithfield Christmas Store.
For Lasker Christmas pictures with music click here.
beautiful roses blooming in our yard on December first.
New use for a piano -
storage of musical Christmas ornaments at the Smithfield Christmas Store.
For Lasker Christmas pictures with music click here.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
Christmas at Chowan 2009
Tonight was this year's Christmas at Chowan concert. It came just as we had our first noticeble frost and a little bit of ice.
I played Lyapunov's "Procession of the Magi." As I trudged home through the cold between the rehearsal and the performance, I thought about the inexorable quality of this music and how Russian music has as one of its specialities the unstopable march. I first noticed this quality in a Lazar Berman performance of one of Rachmaninoff's Moment-Musicaux.
As I played the piece during the concert, I felt a little like there were people present who weren't interested in this music. They may just be because of the unfocused feeling I get when participating in a variety show type of concert like this one. Or maybe it is because the music unfolds slowly and I become anxious that the listeners are losing interest. Whatever the reason, these sorts of thoughts are distracting and do not help me play well!
Maybe the slowness with which the music unfolds gives it the inexorable quality. As always, the music is to be trusted and the musician shouldn't worry about the audience's instant gratification if that isn't the way the music is designed.
Later on the program, I played several pieces from Rebikov's The Christmas Presents. That playing experience was better for me. The audience seemed focused with me and I realized how extraordinary it is for a room of 100 to 200 people to sit and listen intently to one man play a few quiet notes an a piano.
I played Lyapunov's "Procession of the Magi." As I trudged home through the cold between the rehearsal and the performance, I thought about the inexorable quality of this music and how Russian music has as one of its specialities the unstopable march. I first noticed this quality in a Lazar Berman performance of one of Rachmaninoff's Moment-Musicaux.
As I played the piece during the concert, I felt a little like there were people present who weren't interested in this music. They may just be because of the unfocused feeling I get when participating in a variety show type of concert like this one. Or maybe it is because the music unfolds slowly and I become anxious that the listeners are losing interest. Whatever the reason, these sorts of thoughts are distracting and do not help me play well!
Maybe the slowness with which the music unfolds gives it the inexorable quality. As always, the music is to be trusted and the musician shouldn't worry about the audience's instant gratification if that isn't the way the music is designed.
Later on the program, I played several pieces from Rebikov's The Christmas Presents. That playing experience was better for me. The audience seemed focused with me and I realized how extraordinary it is for a room of 100 to 200 people to sit and listen intently to one man play a few quiet notes an a piano.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Excellent Song
This morning, we sang the classic praise and worship song "As the Deer" by Martin Nystrom based on Psalm 42. As the choir rehearsed it, I thought about what has given it its lasting appeal and its place in the canon of worship music.
And that is that it is an excellently written song. The tune does exactly what the words say, but in the best tradition of Handel, it does so without becoming silly. In fact, it's quite possible to listen to the piece over and over without being distracted by the text painting. But I think it makes the song more deeply meaningful.
The word "panteth" or "pants" is split between two quick notes that suggest the urgency of panting.
The two things longed for - "water" and "heart's desire" - are set with the longing gesture of an appogiatura. The appogiatura on "water" might also be heard as part of a wave that encompasses the words "for the water so my."
Next, perhaps the most important word in the line - the real topic of the song - "soul" - appears on the highest note of the phrase.
The following phrase ends "and I long to worship you." Here, the music bows down with the words.
In the third phrase, one note insistently repeated perfectly sets the words "You alone."
Then, at "spirit yield" the music also yields before it turns back to the tune and tonality of the first phrase.
And that is that it is an excellently written song. The tune does exactly what the words say, but in the best tradition of Handel, it does so without becoming silly. In fact, it's quite possible to listen to the piece over and over without being distracted by the text painting. But I think it makes the song more deeply meaningful.
The word "panteth" or "pants" is split between two quick notes that suggest the urgency of panting.
The two things longed for - "water" and "heart's desire" - are set with the longing gesture of an appogiatura. The appogiatura on "water" might also be heard as part of a wave that encompasses the words "for the water so my."
Next, perhaps the most important word in the line - the real topic of the song - "soul" - appears on the highest note of the phrase.
The following phrase ends "and I long to worship you." Here, the music bows down with the words.
In the third phrase, one note insistently repeated perfectly sets the words "You alone."
Then, at "spirit yield" the music also yields before it turns back to the tune and tonality of the first phrase.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Fall Break Review, Part II
On Saturday, I played for a wedding at Connaritsa Baptist Church. This was a lovely autumn wedding with flowers in fall colors and bride's maids in red dresses. It was also a fun experience because of the historic nature of the church being the fourth oldest Baptist congregation in our region.
The instrument at Connaritsa is an older spinet, and as I played it, I was reminded of one of my basic beliefs about making music - a belief that I think is really important, but not always so easy to live with. And that is that making music is about cooperation, not competition or domination.
When confronted with a smaller and limited instrument, my gut reaction is to force it to bend to my will. The result of that approach is usually somewhat tortured. The instrument strains and groans, and little joy is expressed. More beauty comes when I relax and look for what the instrument can do well. This may mean sharing my vision with a decent, musical, mid-ranged dynamic and not striving for grand effects at either extreme of the dynamic scale. I think the result is better music and maybe better being human.
On Thursday night, Ms. Pressnell and I gave our first faculty two-piano recital on the two Baldwin concert grands in Daniel Recital Hall. While the older of the two instruments has some problems on its own, it makes a very good partner for the newer Baldwin.
The concert was great fun to play, and we were both relaxed and focused on good piano playing much of the time. We played a chaconne on Dido's Lament by Purcell. It happens to be Purcell's 350th birthday this year. I thought a bit about the recent earthquake victims in the South Pacific as I got ready to play this lament. Next was the first movement of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony then the second movement on Shostakovich's Second Piano Concerto. We concluded the first half with an arrangement of Hava Nagilah, which is about the happiest-sounding piece of music you're likely to find in a minor key.
The second half consisted of Saint-Seans Danse Macabre (which was the last thing we added to the program and turned out to be both our favorite and the crowd's favorite), three hymn arrangements by Nielson and Young - Come Thou Fount, When I Survey, and the Doxology tune - and several movements from Zwillich's Peanuts Gallery. We played a simple arrangement of Shenandoah for an encore.
One very specific comment I recieved a day or so after the concert was about the way I played the very last note of Shenandoah - living proof of the saying "God is in the details."
Last Sunday, I played a concert of parlor music for the Perquimans County Restoration Association. You can read about that here.
And now I'm reflecting all the way back to our season-opening faculty gala. That was my first solo playing on the Grotrian - Brahms: Op. 116, Nos. 1,2 and 3. I like the idea of the entire year of concerts here at Chowan (or at least my part in them) being one large work, and I hope our faithful audience members will connect the Brahms of the Gala Concert with the First Sonata which I plan to play during Pianofest in February.
That night was also my first bit of chamber music with the new piano. Dr. Parker sang several of Vaughan Williams's Vagabond Songs. The piano's capabilities were especially moving in that situation as it makes many many gradations of mezzo piano and softer possible. Also, its tone never competes with the timbre of the voice. Finally, it's possible to make much of the text-painting sound literally like the words and ideas being illustrated on this instrument! It's clearly a superbly-suited instrument on which to play songs of such high calibre with a fine and sensitive artist like Dr. Parker.
The instrument at Connaritsa is an older spinet, and as I played it, I was reminded of one of my basic beliefs about making music - a belief that I think is really important, but not always so easy to live with. And that is that making music is about cooperation, not competition or domination.
When confronted with a smaller and limited instrument, my gut reaction is to force it to bend to my will. The result of that approach is usually somewhat tortured. The instrument strains and groans, and little joy is expressed. More beauty comes when I relax and look for what the instrument can do well. This may mean sharing my vision with a decent, musical, mid-ranged dynamic and not striving for grand effects at either extreme of the dynamic scale. I think the result is better music and maybe better being human.
On Thursday night, Ms. Pressnell and I gave our first faculty two-piano recital on the two Baldwin concert grands in Daniel Recital Hall. While the older of the two instruments has some problems on its own, it makes a very good partner for the newer Baldwin.
The concert was great fun to play, and we were both relaxed and focused on good piano playing much of the time. We played a chaconne on Dido's Lament by Purcell. It happens to be Purcell's 350th birthday this year. I thought a bit about the recent earthquake victims in the South Pacific as I got ready to play this lament. Next was the first movement of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony then the second movement on Shostakovich's Second Piano Concerto. We concluded the first half with an arrangement of Hava Nagilah, which is about the happiest-sounding piece of music you're likely to find in a minor key.
The second half consisted of Saint-Seans Danse Macabre (which was the last thing we added to the program and turned out to be both our favorite and the crowd's favorite), three hymn arrangements by Nielson and Young - Come Thou Fount, When I Survey, and the Doxology tune - and several movements from Zwillich's Peanuts Gallery. We played a simple arrangement of Shenandoah for an encore.
One very specific comment I recieved a day or so after the concert was about the way I played the very last note of Shenandoah - living proof of the saying "God is in the details."
Last Sunday, I played a concert of parlor music for the Perquimans County Restoration Association. You can read about that here.
And now I'm reflecting all the way back to our season-opening faculty gala. That was my first solo playing on the Grotrian - Brahms: Op. 116, Nos. 1,2 and 3. I like the idea of the entire year of concerts here at Chowan (or at least my part in them) being one large work, and I hope our faithful audience members will connect the Brahms of the Gala Concert with the First Sonata which I plan to play during Pianofest in February.
That night was also my first bit of chamber music with the new piano. Dr. Parker sang several of Vaughan Williams's Vagabond Songs. The piano's capabilities were especially moving in that situation as it makes many many gradations of mezzo piano and softer possible. Also, its tone never competes with the timbre of the voice. Finally, it's possible to make much of the text-painting sound literally like the words and ideas being illustrated on this instrument! It's clearly a superbly-suited instrument on which to play songs of such high calibre with a fine and sensitive artist like Dr. Parker.
Worship, God's Image, Creativity
Daniel preached an excellent sermon this morning on worhsip. He drew our attention to the various words that relate to worship in the Bible. Of course, "worship" is an old English word meaning "to ascribe worth to." According to Daniel, the Hebrew scriptural word for worship actually means "to bow down" and the Greek New Testament word means "to serve." He pointed out that all of these concepts are verbs, not nouns - that worship is something we do, not so much an experience we receive (that would make worship into a noun).
Contemplating those three words, I note that the English word really means something different from the Biblical words. "To ascribe worth" suggests that we are somehow in a position to access the worth of our creator. That seems a little absurd to me. To bow down and to serve have none of that in them. Instead, they are acts of pure response to the Creator.
I've also been thinking once again about how we humans are created in God's image. Being in God's image, we, too, create. I think that means that on a fundamental, existential level, creativity has nothing to do with competition. At any rate, making music is a way of enacting being in God's image. The Psalmists repeatedly implore us to make music joyfully, and I think that flows naturally and logically from being made in God's image. What could be more basic and joyful than to recognize that we are creations and that we have a kinship with the Creator? There is nothing of the self to assert in this. Instead, we proclaim our gladness at being, at being creations, at being creations in relationship with the Creator, and at being something that the Creator has declared to be good!
Contemplating those three words, I note that the English word really means something different from the Biblical words. "To ascribe worth" suggests that we are somehow in a position to access the worth of our creator. That seems a little absurd to me. To bow down and to serve have none of that in them. Instead, they are acts of pure response to the Creator.
I've also been thinking once again about how we humans are created in God's image. Being in God's image, we, too, create. I think that means that on a fundamental, existential level, creativity has nothing to do with competition. At any rate, making music is a way of enacting being in God's image. The Psalmists repeatedly implore us to make music joyfully, and I think that flows naturally and logically from being made in God's image. What could be more basic and joyful than to recognize that we are creations and that we have a kinship with the Creator? There is nothing of the self to assert in this. Instead, we proclaim our gladness at being, at being creations, at being creations in relationship with the Creator, and at being something that the Creator has declared to be good!
Sunday, October 04, 2009
Fall Break Review, Part I
Fall Break is right around the corner, and it feels like a good time to turn a corner in my year. We've been blessed with some actual fall-like weather for several weeks. That is, we've stayed out of the 90s for some time now. In addition, I actually felt a little bit of Christmas on the way as I walked home tonight. Maybe that's because I've just started learning a couple of Lyopunov's Fetes de Noels which, by the way, I'd highly recommend to any classical pianist wanting to learn some Christmasy repertoire.
Christmas is such a lovely time of year here with the cool weather, the historic homes decorated, and many meaningful festivities. This all reminds me that I really like being here.
Loving a place and being called to a place is a lot like a marriage. The love and the calling are much bigger than any one bad experience or interaction. But those things can distract us and cloud our vision, so we need to be smart in cherishing the relationship.
(By the way, Kathy and I try not to create bad experiences or bad interactions for each other, but sometimes we have to share bad experiences inflicted upon us by others!)
In addition to the approach of fall break, I had several gigs this week that brought a period of performing to a pretty satisfying conclusion. I have some time now before any major performing, so I can do some enjoyable, disciplined, and unhurried preparation. Also, I have some time to work on trying to do a little less but better, and getting in the habit of more consistent exercise and better eating habits, etc. . . . !
And that brings me to the real topic of this post: a little reflection on the piano playing I've done and heard so far this year. I'll cover these events in reverse order and over the course of a couple of posts.
Dr. White, our president here at Chowan, gave a concert this afternoon to raise funds for Chowan University mission trips. Dr. White studied some formally growing up and also listened closely to his grandfather who was a talented natural musician. One of the moving things about Dr. White's musicianship is his consciousness of this link to the past. He is conveying what he can reproduce of his grandfather's style to his own grandchildren and others with whom this way of playing strikes a chord. My favorite selection from this afternoon's concert was a rendition of the gospel song "Ivory Palaces" which was his reconstruction of his grandfather's playing and, to my ears, it rang with authenticity, particularly in its pacing and the interesting flowing tenor voice that provided a countermelody to the tune.
Another arrangement that captured my imagination was "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" which took advantage of the rich low bass notes of the Grotrian, each of which sounded like some great pillar put in place at the beginning of time. Dr. White indicated that this was one of his favorite songs, and the comfortable fluidity with which he played it suggested to me that the song iteself has been a long-time companion of his at the piano.
Two other selections that were of particular musical interest to me were a medley and a theologically-thoughtful arrangement of "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross." The medley combined several tunes that I never thought of together but make perfect sense as a group: "Fill My Cup, Lord" based on the story about the woman at the well, "Kumbaya," and "Holy Ground." These last two have very similar melodies that are nearly interchangeable at points.
Dr. White gave an explanation of his rendition of "When I Survey." The sections represent the vision of the cross, then the reality of death on the cross, then the fact that there is life beyond the cross. That narrative framework gave the arrangement integrity and meaning.
Christmas is such a lovely time of year here with the cool weather, the historic homes decorated, and many meaningful festivities. This all reminds me that I really like being here.
Loving a place and being called to a place is a lot like a marriage. The love and the calling are much bigger than any one bad experience or interaction. But those things can distract us and cloud our vision, so we need to be smart in cherishing the relationship.
(By the way, Kathy and I try not to create bad experiences or bad interactions for each other, but sometimes we have to share bad experiences inflicted upon us by others!)
In addition to the approach of fall break, I had several gigs this week that brought a period of performing to a pretty satisfying conclusion. I have some time now before any major performing, so I can do some enjoyable, disciplined, and unhurried preparation. Also, I have some time to work on trying to do a little less but better, and getting in the habit of more consistent exercise and better eating habits, etc. . . . !
And that brings me to the real topic of this post: a little reflection on the piano playing I've done and heard so far this year. I'll cover these events in reverse order and over the course of a couple of posts.
Dr. White, our president here at Chowan, gave a concert this afternoon to raise funds for Chowan University mission trips. Dr. White studied some formally growing up and also listened closely to his grandfather who was a talented natural musician. One of the moving things about Dr. White's musicianship is his consciousness of this link to the past. He is conveying what he can reproduce of his grandfather's style to his own grandchildren and others with whom this way of playing strikes a chord. My favorite selection from this afternoon's concert was a rendition of the gospel song "Ivory Palaces" which was his reconstruction of his grandfather's playing and, to my ears, it rang with authenticity, particularly in its pacing and the interesting flowing tenor voice that provided a countermelody to the tune.
Another arrangement that captured my imagination was "What a Friend We Have in Jesus" which took advantage of the rich low bass notes of the Grotrian, each of which sounded like some great pillar put in place at the beginning of time. Dr. White indicated that this was one of his favorite songs, and the comfortable fluidity with which he played it suggested to me that the song iteself has been a long-time companion of his at the piano.
Two other selections that were of particular musical interest to me were a medley and a theologically-thoughtful arrangement of "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross." The medley combined several tunes that I never thought of together but make perfect sense as a group: "Fill My Cup, Lord" based on the story about the woman at the well, "Kumbaya," and "Holy Ground." These last two have very similar melodies that are nearly interchangeable at points.
Dr. White gave an explanation of his rendition of "When I Survey." The sections represent the vision of the cross, then the reality of death on the cross, then the fact that there is life beyond the cross. That narrative framework gave the arrangement integrity and meaning.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Fur Elise
I recently taught a lesson on that great warhouse of the intermediate literature, "Fur Elise." All of you who play or teach the piece are aware of several trouble spots, and the one I am thinking about is the bit where the hands trade back and forth in the A section when the opening theme is about to turn. More often than not, that spot serves as an invitation for students to apply their ingenuity to not dividing the hands as Beethoven indicated as well as playing music that isn't in the score!
In many instances, I am willing to rearrange hands and other things to get what I think is the best effect. But I feel like there are compelling reasons to play this passage as Beethoven arranged it:
1. It's Beethoven and his scores are as close to sacrosanct as we get in the classical realm.
2. Switching hands as Beethoven wrote provides a visual impression of brilliance even though the actual execution is not hard. In fact, it might just be easier to play with the hand switching than without it!
3. Switching hands nearly guarantees that the pianist will play the articulation that Beethoven indicated.
4. Beethoven's piano music was some of the first to so convincingly suggest orchestral music. Switching the hands provides for a variety of finger strengths and orientations for the same pair of notes. That's reminiscent of the changing of resources as Beethoven passes a motive around the orchestra from one instrument to the next.
5. On a structural and physical level, at least the A section of piece is a set of variations on the alternation of the hands. The very opening theme is permeated by one hand following the other. The passage in question is a more compressed manifestation of that idea.
A silly thought following up on #5 above - I'm surprised that I've never come across a Romantic-era transcription of the piece with alternating "Liszt Octaves" replacing the single-lined chromatic scale that occurs near the end!
In many instances, I am willing to rearrange hands and other things to get what I think is the best effect. But I feel like there are compelling reasons to play this passage as Beethoven arranged it:
1. It's Beethoven and his scores are as close to sacrosanct as we get in the classical realm.
2. Switching hands as Beethoven wrote provides a visual impression of brilliance even though the actual execution is not hard. In fact, it might just be easier to play with the hand switching than without it!
3. Switching hands nearly guarantees that the pianist will play the articulation that Beethoven indicated.
4. Beethoven's piano music was some of the first to so convincingly suggest orchestral music. Switching the hands provides for a variety of finger strengths and orientations for the same pair of notes. That's reminiscent of the changing of resources as Beethoven passes a motive around the orchestra from one instrument to the next.
5. On a structural and physical level, at least the A section of piece is a set of variations on the alternation of the hands. The very opening theme is permeated by one hand following the other. The passage in question is a more compressed manifestation of that idea.
A silly thought following up on #5 above - I'm surprised that I've never come across a Romantic-era transcription of the piece with alternating "Liszt Octaves" replacing the single-lined chromatic scale that occurs near the end!
Friday, September 11, 2009
A Great Story
Tonight I heard this inspiring true story that's well worth the time it takes to read it.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Servanthood
As a lot of you know, I feel some dissonance about the terms "leader" and "leadership" in the context of Christianity. As I've repeatedly noted for myself, Jesus invites us to be servants, not servant-leaders.
This morning, I started reading James since there will be a lengthty passage of James read in our worship service on Sunday. James begins "James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ."
That led me to do a quick survey of the openings words of New Testament letters to see how the authors presented themselves -
Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ
Paul, called by the will of God to be an apostle of Christ Jesus
Paul, an apostle . . .
Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ
Paul, a prisoner for Christ Jesus
Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ
Simon Peter, a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ
Jude, a servant of Jesus Christ
The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave him to show his servants what must soon take place; and he made it known by sending his angel to his servant John
Nothing about leadership there. Servant, apostle, prisoner - I believe these are all pretty un-exalted and are not power-oriented concepts. I'm thinking that "apostle" has a churchy and authoritative context for us today since we only use it in the context of referring to people who were pillars in the church. But I bet that word did not have those overtones when the scripture writers chose it. It means "messenger" or "one sent."
This morning, I started reading James since there will be a lengthty passage of James read in our worship service on Sunday. James begins "James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ."
That led me to do a quick survey of the openings words of New Testament letters to see how the authors presented themselves -
Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ
Paul, called by the will of God to be an apostle of Christ Jesus
Paul, an apostle . . .
Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ
Paul, a prisoner for Christ Jesus
Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ
Simon Peter, a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ
Jude, a servant of Jesus Christ
The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave him to show his servants what must soon take place; and he made it known by sending his angel to his servant John
Nothing about leadership there. Servant, apostle, prisoner - I believe these are all pretty un-exalted and are not power-oriented concepts. I'm thinking that "apostle" has a churchy and authoritative context for us today since we only use it in the context of referring to people who were pillars in the church. But I bet that word did not have those overtones when the scripture writers chose it. It means "messenger" or "one sent."
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Chowan Inspiration
This has been the week of meetings, inventories, syllabus writing . . . oh yes, and meetings.
I like the awareness of tradition here at Chowan. Periodically, someone says "This is the day when . . ." or "Traditionally on this day . . ." This is something I often wanted more of at other places.
I was feeling particularly inspired after Thursday which was the day of the faculty retreat. It was a rich day that culminated with a look at the new "Murph's" which is our newly renovated, truly transformed, sport-themed space formerly known as the snack bar. And that was followed by a reflective walk with Sophie (our dog) - reflective except for the part when we were running!
On our walk, my love for Murfreesboro and my work here was refreshed. I thought of my father's inspiration for his work, particularly as expressed in his church newsletter articles from his days at Sylvia Circle Baptist Church in the 80s. There was a sense of heaven on earth for him that came not from things being peaceful but purposeful.
Joy comes in being part of perfecting a place, helping a community become whole. And that's what has been going on here for a very long time. One would be saddened to move on because that work is so fulfilling.
Strolling quietly after dark under the tall pines reminds me that God is present and working, and Squirrel Park (the university commons) has been particular mysterious and intriguing lately as a pair of owls has been making an appearance there around dusk.
MacDowell Columns building stubbornly looms up out of the night like a bulldog jaw or a great fist. It says "Wars have come and gone - but we are still here. Hurricanes have scarred our land, but we are still here. Doors have closed and opened agin - we are still here. Depression, Recession - still here."
And we're still here for the continuation of civilization. It seems that the whole project - civilization and intitution - exist and persist as a grace from God.
I like the awareness of tradition here at Chowan. Periodically, someone says "This is the day when . . ." or "Traditionally on this day . . ." This is something I often wanted more of at other places.
I was feeling particularly inspired after Thursday which was the day of the faculty retreat. It was a rich day that culminated with a look at the new "Murph's" which is our newly renovated, truly transformed, sport-themed space formerly known as the snack bar. And that was followed by a reflective walk with Sophie (our dog) - reflective except for the part when we were running!
On our walk, my love for Murfreesboro and my work here was refreshed. I thought of my father's inspiration for his work, particularly as expressed in his church newsletter articles from his days at Sylvia Circle Baptist Church in the 80s. There was a sense of heaven on earth for him that came not from things being peaceful but purposeful.
Joy comes in being part of perfecting a place, helping a community become whole. And that's what has been going on here for a very long time. One would be saddened to move on because that work is so fulfilling.
Strolling quietly after dark under the tall pines reminds me that God is present and working, and Squirrel Park (the university commons) has been particular mysterious and intriguing lately as a pair of owls has been making an appearance there around dusk.
MacDowell Columns building stubbornly looms up out of the night like a bulldog jaw or a great fist. It says "Wars have come and gone - but we are still here. Hurricanes have scarred our land, but we are still here. Doors have closed and opened agin - we are still here. Depression, Recession - still here."
And we're still here for the continuation of civilization. It seems that the whole project - civilization and intitution - exist and persist as a grace from God.
Sunday, August 09, 2009
Great Grotrian
Yesterday was an historic day for all things piano at Chowan. This summer we have really been blessed by the incredible generosity of donors and administrators with an interest in music. One of the superb additions to our instruments they made possible came in the form of a Grotrian concert grand that was delivered yesterday by Famous Jerry of Disputanta, VA. Famous Jerry and his men were a model of teamwork with each one responding quickly to Jerry's expert directions and noone ever whimping out at a crucial moment.
Grotrian is a great old German piano company that makes instruments with a beautiful sweet sound that are incredibly responsive to the pianist's touch. for more on Grotrian, click here.
The moving process was amazing.
First, ramps were placed on the steps of Macdowell Columns building. The top ramp was secured around two of the columns to keep it securely in place as 1000 plus pounds rolled over it. The men doing the moving were by no means huge, but no doubt they were very strong. The one mover who was noticebly muscular was always at the heavy and bottom end whenever a piano was on a ramp.
As the piano made its way onto the Turner stage, those of us watching were moved by the athleticism and stunning nature of an 1100 pound piano moving so quickly (you can't let the momentum be lost on the way up the ramp!) and the sense of that massive object, being piloted by flesh and bone, in a moment of near flight moving from up-ramp to down-ramp as it cleared the lip of the stage.
Next came a bit of down time as the legs and pedals of the Grotrian were put back on and the legs and pedals of the Baldwin were taken off. There was a poignancy about those two giants meeting for a few moments this one and only time on the stage of Turner.
There was yet more poignancy as the Baldwin awaited its voyage from the hallowed halls of Columns to Daniel Recital Hall.
Next came intensity as the movers threaded the Baldwin through entryway of Daniel recital hall, the setting emphasizing the mass of the instrument as it was lifted and balanced at the top of the steps before rolling down into the hall. This Balwin is the heaviest model of piano made in the U.S., weighing in around 1300 pounds.
At the end, a little more lifting to put the Baldwin back in operable order -
After everything was back in place and the movers had left, Kathy I went to the halls to try out the instruments in their new homes. I was delighted to find that things are even better than I anticipated!
The beautiful and sweet sound of the Grotrian transforms what was a decent recital space into something that emphasizes the elegance of live classical music performance. While the instrument has plenty of power and projects with rare clarity, it doesn't reward aggressiveness. Instead, it encourages the pianist who listens to play lyrically and melodically.
In Daniel, the Baldwin demonstrates much more character than we knew it had in Turner. That's a real delight because it makes the room a much more rewarding recital space and will give our students much more to work with on their weekly recitals. Also, the old and new Baldwins are particularly well-matched as two-piano instruments.
Grotrian is a great old German piano company that makes instruments with a beautiful sweet sound that are incredibly responsive to the pianist's touch. for more on Grotrian, click here.
The moving process was amazing.
First, ramps were placed on the steps of Macdowell Columns building. The top ramp was secured around two of the columns to keep it securely in place as 1000 plus pounds rolled over it. The men doing the moving were by no means huge, but no doubt they were very strong. The one mover who was noticebly muscular was always at the heavy and bottom end whenever a piano was on a ramp.
As the piano made its way onto the Turner stage, those of us watching were moved by the athleticism and stunning nature of an 1100 pound piano moving so quickly (you can't let the momentum be lost on the way up the ramp!) and the sense of that massive object, being piloted by flesh and bone, in a moment of near flight moving from up-ramp to down-ramp as it cleared the lip of the stage.
Next came a bit of down time as the legs and pedals of the Grotrian were put back on and the legs and pedals of the Baldwin were taken off. There was a poignancy about those two giants meeting for a few moments this one and only time on the stage of Turner.
There was yet more poignancy as the Baldwin awaited its voyage from the hallowed halls of Columns to Daniel Recital Hall.
Next came intensity as the movers threaded the Baldwin through entryway of Daniel recital hall, the setting emphasizing the mass of the instrument as it was lifted and balanced at the top of the steps before rolling down into the hall. This Balwin is the heaviest model of piano made in the U.S., weighing in around 1300 pounds.
At the end, a little more lifting to put the Baldwin back in operable order -
After everything was back in place and the movers had left, Kathy I went to the halls to try out the instruments in their new homes. I was delighted to find that things are even better than I anticipated!
The beautiful and sweet sound of the Grotrian transforms what was a decent recital space into something that emphasizes the elegance of live classical music performance. While the instrument has plenty of power and projects with rare clarity, it doesn't reward aggressiveness. Instead, it encourages the pianist who listens to play lyrically and melodically.
In Daniel, the Baldwin demonstrates much more character than we knew it had in Turner. That's a real delight because it makes the room a much more rewarding recital space and will give our students much more to work with on their weekly recitals. Also, the old and new Baldwins are particularly well-matched as two-piano instruments.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Hymn Society
We returned this week from the annual conference of the Hymn Society in the United States and Canada to the sounds of band camp rehearsal on campus and breezy evening walks that remind us that the coast isn't very far away.
I can tell by the way I feel - emotionally, mentally, and spiritually rejuvenated- that Hymn Society was very good for me.
Our flight to Minnesota for the conference was my first flight, and I think I might not have been as afraid of it as I thought I was. I was still nervous, though.
The conference was at St. Olaf, which is a liberal arts school with a very strong choral tradition in Northfield, MN.
Some major memories of the conference for me follow:
The first night's hymn festival for which John Ferguson played piano and organ - Ferguson is an incredibly gifted artist who draws the congregation into worship through his insightful playing and sensitivity
Carl Daw's profound and personal texts, many of which deal with peace and the Trinity
Witnessing Brian Wren's quick mind for finding just the right word to fit the theological and poetic requirements during a workshop for text writers
Learning about David Morales's terrific work with young people in inner-city Oakland - you can read Cantare con Vivo's mission statement here
A very moving hymn festival (in which Kathy read scripture) that was structured around the parables of Jesus
Plenary sessions featuring Marva Dawn and a talk on what types of hymns Dr. Seuss would like (this was light-hearted and challenging)
Breakout sessions about performance practice for Lutheran chorales, a new collection of Psalm paraphrases by Richard Leach, a new collection of settings of texts by Fanny Crosby - many recently rediscovered texts that speak to a broader range of issues that the best-known Crosby texts, and Djembe drumming to accompany congregational singing
Lots of fresh organically-grown food raised on-campus
Video of the hymn festivals can be found here.
After the conference, we went to Duluth, MN to visit our friends, Paul and Eileen Scaringi. While there, I read Paul's dissertation which deals with freedom, creativity, and the Trinity in the works of Berdiaev and Moltmann.
Paul is the pastor of the United Protestant Church of Silver Bay, MN, which is the oldest ecumenical church on MN and is aligned with several denominations including American Baptist, Church of Christ, Methodist, and Presbyterian. Kathy sang my setting of verses from Psalm 87 which I wrote for the occasion.
After church, we did a little hiking along the cliffs beside Lake Superior.
I can tell by the way I feel - emotionally, mentally, and spiritually rejuvenated- that Hymn Society was very good for me.
Our flight to Minnesota for the conference was my first flight, and I think I might not have been as afraid of it as I thought I was. I was still nervous, though.
The conference was at St. Olaf, which is a liberal arts school with a very strong choral tradition in Northfield, MN.
Some major memories of the conference for me follow:
The first night's hymn festival for which John Ferguson played piano and organ - Ferguson is an incredibly gifted artist who draws the congregation into worship through his insightful playing and sensitivity
Carl Daw's profound and personal texts, many of which deal with peace and the Trinity
Witnessing Brian Wren's quick mind for finding just the right word to fit the theological and poetic requirements during a workshop for text writers
Learning about David Morales's terrific work with young people in inner-city Oakland - you can read Cantare con Vivo's mission statement here
A very moving hymn festival (in which Kathy read scripture) that was structured around the parables of Jesus
Plenary sessions featuring Marva Dawn and a talk on what types of hymns Dr. Seuss would like (this was light-hearted and challenging)
Breakout sessions about performance practice for Lutheran chorales, a new collection of Psalm paraphrases by Richard Leach, a new collection of settings of texts by Fanny Crosby - many recently rediscovered texts that speak to a broader range of issues that the best-known Crosby texts, and Djembe drumming to accompany congregational singing
Lots of fresh organically-grown food raised on-campus
Video of the hymn festivals can be found here.
After the conference, we went to Duluth, MN to visit our friends, Paul and Eileen Scaringi. While there, I read Paul's dissertation which deals with freedom, creativity, and the Trinity in the works of Berdiaev and Moltmann.
Paul is the pastor of the United Protestant Church of Silver Bay, MN, which is the oldest ecumenical church on MN and is aligned with several denominations including American Baptist, Church of Christ, Methodist, and Presbyterian. Kathy sang my setting of verses from Psalm 87 which I wrote for the occasion.
After church, we did a little hiking along the cliffs beside Lake Superior.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Learning Aesthetics
After the Festival, I took a trip to Charlotte, NC to visit a student. While there, I had a great time staying with friends in the Hyaets Community. I also took the opportunity to visit Rock Hill, SC where I lived from 3rd grade to 11th grade.
During the visit to Rock Hill, I was able to assess the town from a little more adult perspective than when I lived there, and I was struck that about two thirds of the town I knew consist of quite lovely neighborhoods with fine buildings and tree-lined streets. The other third of the town - where we lived most of our time there - seems to be a community in real need.
In the middle of the town is a gem known as Glencairn Gardens. I was very fortunate to have daily access to the gardens for several of my "formative years." On revisiting the gardens this time I had the very moving epiphany that my sense of aesthetics was developed in large part by the many times I visited the gardens during those years. On a daily basis, the concepts I mostly consciously learned later were played out in the physical realm all around me. Those experiences shaped me as an artist.
The gardens have a brilliant few weeks in the Spring when the azaleas are blooming. The amount of color in the landscape is unbelievable at that time. But year-round, the gardens pack a powerful impact because of issues relating to arrangement, proportion, etc.
The central feature is a multi-tiered fountain that flows into a large pool that is often full of waterlilies. The symbol of the fountain is powerful and beautiful. It essentially appears to be an inexhaustible spring from which life-giving water flows. Here, ideas and an image from the physical world go hand in hand, just as Emerson said they do. The fountain speaks of abundance and miracles. The way the water spills from one tier to the next certainly shaped my understanding of flow and its importance.
From some vantage points, the fountain is easily seen and framed from a distance and a higher elevation. From other directions, it is hidden until almost the last moment of one's approach. One can experience many shades of framing, approach, introduction, and context there.
Because of the hills, meandering paths, various fountains, and the surrounding streets, one is also drawn into a sonic awareness of the many aspects of the place which can be experienced simultaneously and constantly change as one changes location.
Reflecting on all of this, and on how these things shaped me made, me think that artists, and musicians in particular, need such places in our lives. We need to become alert to what things make for beauty and practice experiencing those things as we grow our own sense of proportion, relationship, and so forth.
Sometimes we are fortunate to live very close to a scene that was designed to embody principles of beauty. Other times, we need to travel to such places. I am thinking of giving my students exercises for discovering beauty in the physical realm around us - exercises for recognizing the nature of materials and the relationship of those materials - so as to fine-tune their understanding of the beauty of the musical objects with which they deal in performance.
On a deeper level, all of this is important because the gardens gave me a place to muse, to meditate, to imagine, and to grow. Experiences of beauty can provide sanctuaries for such deeply significant human activities. Maybe all these things are the spiritual content the world desperately needs, content that transcends the physical or the sonic.
During the visit to Rock Hill, I was able to assess the town from a little more adult perspective than when I lived there, and I was struck that about two thirds of the town I knew consist of quite lovely neighborhoods with fine buildings and tree-lined streets. The other third of the town - where we lived most of our time there - seems to be a community in real need.
In the middle of the town is a gem known as Glencairn Gardens. I was very fortunate to have daily access to the gardens for several of my "formative years." On revisiting the gardens this time I had the very moving epiphany that my sense of aesthetics was developed in large part by the many times I visited the gardens during those years. On a daily basis, the concepts I mostly consciously learned later were played out in the physical realm all around me. Those experiences shaped me as an artist.
The gardens have a brilliant few weeks in the Spring when the azaleas are blooming. The amount of color in the landscape is unbelievable at that time. But year-round, the gardens pack a powerful impact because of issues relating to arrangement, proportion, etc.
The central feature is a multi-tiered fountain that flows into a large pool that is often full of waterlilies. The symbol of the fountain is powerful and beautiful. It essentially appears to be an inexhaustible spring from which life-giving water flows. Here, ideas and an image from the physical world go hand in hand, just as Emerson said they do. The fountain speaks of abundance and miracles. The way the water spills from one tier to the next certainly shaped my understanding of flow and its importance.
From some vantage points, the fountain is easily seen and framed from a distance and a higher elevation. From other directions, it is hidden until almost the last moment of one's approach. One can experience many shades of framing, approach, introduction, and context there.
Because of the hills, meandering paths, various fountains, and the surrounding streets, one is also drawn into a sonic awareness of the many aspects of the place which can be experienced simultaneously and constantly change as one changes location.
Reflecting on all of this, and on how these things shaped me made, me think that artists, and musicians in particular, need such places in our lives. We need to become alert to what things make for beauty and practice experiencing those things as we grow our own sense of proportion, relationship, and so forth.
Sometimes we are fortunate to live very close to a scene that was designed to embody principles of beauty. Other times, we need to travel to such places. I am thinking of giving my students exercises for discovering beauty in the physical realm around us - exercises for recognizing the nature of materials and the relationship of those materials - so as to fine-tune their understanding of the beauty of the musical objects with which they deal in performance.
On a deeper level, all of this is important because the gardens gave me a place to muse, to meditate, to imagine, and to grow. Experiences of beauty can provide sanctuaries for such deeply significant human activities. Maybe all these things are the spiritual content the world desperately needs, content that transcends the physical or the sonic.
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Hulin Musicians
Another Hulin musician who has been brought to my attention:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6IrSq1rOoL4
And don't forget swamp pop
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6IrSq1rOoL4
And don't forget swamp pop
Monday, June 29, 2009
Festival Reflections 2009
Lasker Summer Music Festival 2009 came to a fine conclusion last night.
Every year, participating in the Festival gives me new direction and perspective for the year ahead. Meeting with encouraging and challenging musicians for these few days, performing and discussing how our faith and art relate, and gathering with the intention of sharing and discovering - these things always refresh and redirect me.
This year, I leave the Festival knowing I did some good and elegant playing, and also being reminded that one needs to think seriously about the results one wants in performance and structure practice according to that goal. One ought to ask "What is a reasonable amount of practice given my goal?" For musicians to mature, we need to know how much time needs to be put in to get the desired results.
Dr. Falby presented a probing talk on the experience and meaning of the goosebumps often brought about by listening to music. This refreshed our sense of purpose as deliverers of goosebumps since the musical moment connects the listener with some sense of the transcendent. This talk also provided a framework for the Festival audience members to process and discuss their experiences of the performances.
There were many musical highlights. In fact, the performers provided such a variety of interesting works that items which would have normally stood out as unique became part of the extraordinary fabric.
The work/performance that seemed to create the greatest impression was Paula Pressnell and Ariel Dechosa's performance of Beethoven's Choral Fantasy on two pianos. Before the performance, we may have had questions about the effectiveness of the piece without orchestra or chorus. But the immediate strong response of the audience, as well as their continued discussion of the performance show that:
1. the work can work as a two-piano piece - it becomes a different type of piece, but very effective
2. the work has some innate goodness that is not dependent upon the timbre or size of the performance forces, and
3. of course, the performance was brilliant!
Other personal highlights include Ariel's masterful handling of Prokofief 6th Sonata,
the fun of playing Erik Satie's Sports et Divertissements with Ken Wolfskill's witty narration,
also having fun playing my own Maritime Suite with Kathy,
Josiah Antill presenting and playing his own music so well,
Jim Guthrie's fiddle playing,
Jeremy McEntire's supreme musicianship playing Gluck and Guthrie,
Kathy and Ariel's exquisite performance of Strauss's Allerseelen,
improvisatory work with Tracee, Jeff, Kathy, and Jeremy (Come Ye Sinners Poor and Needy" was a major goosebump experience for me),
our own little revival of Billings's Chester with offstage horn,
Jeff's very refined version of the second of the Liszt Petrarch Sonnets and of course, the superb quality of the high D flat he sang in it . . .
so I liked everything!
It was also a very eventful few days in Lasker beyond these musical
experiences. The air conditioner stopped working in the fellowship hall, so we migrated to Agnes's house for one evening. Beautiful new landscaping was dedicated at the church, and the Methodist church on the outskirts of town had its closing services and ceremony on Sunday.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Piano at Chowan
Classes ended yesterday and piano juries will be held today, so it's time for me to take a look back at the 08/09 year in piano at Chowan.
The main point I have reflected on throughout the year is that it has been a particularly rich year for pianists at Chowan. We have had lots of opportunities to play and hear a huge variety of music and to see many different approaches to playing a piano.
The very first concert at the school this year was a performance of works of Elliott Carter and Olivier Messiean to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the births of those geniuses. This was brought to us by Paul Hanson and Joanne Kong, colleagues of mine from the University of Richnond. What an eye-opening event for one's first concert as a freshman music major! The musical complexity and expression, as well as the technical difficulty of the works they performed, opened a whole new world of music to us. They also provided an excellent powerpoint presentation that made these incredible works more accessible to us.
Joanne Kong played, as always, with an earnestness that drew us close to the composers' hearts and the essence of the music. Her anguished way of inflecting the movement of Messiaen's Vision de l'Amen devoted to the agony of Christ is still etched in my mind seven months later.
Paul Hanson has unlimited technical resources which he deploys with the maximum amount of cool. He's a great model for all of us who sabotage ourselves by overdoing even simple things. He's a fine artist and craftsman who presides over a marvelous unfolding of pianisitic feats, as in Carter's Night Fantasies, without showing the slightest bit of strain or anxiety.
What's more, both were exceptionally professional, cooperative, kind, and flexible throughout their whole visit, which makes them role models well beyond their superb piano playing.
Another big piano event first semester (and one that provided a major stylistic contrast with the Carter/Messiaen event) was the concert of Christian singer/songwriter/pianist Kyle Matthews. Kyle was with us for a couple of days and was very encouraging regarding the value of the work we're trying to do here, as well as sharing with students what his experience has been in the music business. In addition to being warm and open with us, his concert was a tour de force as he accompanied himself for an entire evening of his own moving and spiritually challenging songs.
Our Pianofest guest was Ariel Dechosa who played two massive masterworks on his recital including Prokofief's Sixth Sonata, which is a miracle both by virtue of the fact that a human being concieved it and also because there are people like Ariel who can play it brilliantly.
This year's Pianofest also focused on ensemble playing and featured our students in duets written especially for them and Mr. Dechosa to perform together. Mr. Dechosa and I played a flamboyant William Tell Overture and Mrs. Pressnell and I played a set of more modest Beethoven variations with which I was rather pleased.
And that brings us to the year's faculty performances that included Mrs. Pressnell's continued exploration of the Viennese classical repertoire with a Haydn sonata and Beethoven's Choral Fantasy and my lecture recitals on 19th cetury parlor music in North Carolina and Erik Satie's Sports et Divertissements.
Mrs. Pressnell and I also provided lots of exposure to ways in which pianists make music with other musicians. In the fall, she played an excellent art song recital with our chairperson, Greg Parker. She also plays for most of our students' performances which happen most weeks on our departmental recital as well as at juries, senior recitals, and choral performances.
I played for clarinetist David Niethamer in a concert of Brahms E flat Sonata and the premiere of a big sonata by my colleague, James M. Guthrie. In the spring, soprano Julia Rolwing exposed us to the music of Wagner, and we also did our first performance anywhere of Strauss's Four Last Songs right here at Chowan.
The studio has taken on lots of projects and provided music outside the school on several occasions. In studio class, we surveyed the works of Beethoven first semester and Russian piano music second semester. We also went out for pizza and got acquainted with the pipe organ at First Baptist Ahoskie. Mark, Josiah, and Terrell played for church worship services, revival services, gospel choir, Christmas concerts, Chowan New Music days, performances of their own music, the Undergraduated Research Conference, jazz ensembles, and the first-ever Chowan University Relay for Life Pianothon.
In addition to all these piano activities, Dr. Guthrie made it possible for us to hear Bach and Telemann on harpsichord and an array of music on the virginal. Dr. Guthrie also played a colorful and powerful organ recital at Murfreesboro Methodist, and organist and alumna Fay Monroe shared a worshipful afternoon with us at Murfreesboro Baptist.
Dr. Guthrie also arranged for the NACUSA national conference to take place here at Chowan this year. That was a day full of concerts of new music that included chamber and solo works for pianists as well.
Yet another pianist who spent time with us this year was composer/activist Stefan Waligur who presented his Celtic Mass at FBC Ahoskie around Christmas time. He visited our first-year theory class and asked us a probing question that we should continue asking ourselves:
"What are you doing with your music?"
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Beethoven's Choral Fantasy
I have recently joined an exclusive club. In fact, I'm not sure I know any other members. I am pianist who has played the Choral Fantasy as a pianist and as a violist. I know Beethoven also played viola, but I doubt he ever played it in a performance of the Choral Fanatasy.
On Monday night, our Chowan performance season had its great conclusion with the majority of our music students and faculty, as well as a number of members of the Virginia Symphony, performing Schubert's Mass in G Major and Beethoven's Choral Fantasy. These "Masterworks Concerts" are terrific projects that bring the year to a rousing close and expose students and community to grand musical experiences that they can't find anywhere else in our region.
My friend, Jeff Prillaman, sang in the performance and suggested that I write a paper on playing the Fantasy as a pianist on the viola. I might make a more formal presentation of this at some point, but for now, I want to share my experiences here.
I was seated directly behind the piano (on the bass side) and the lid of the piano was off. This was a more more powerful and compelling sonic experiecne than sitting at the keyboard with a board (the music rack) between me and the strings.
Adding to the effect of power was the fact that I was surrounded by sound and the viola vibrated sympathetically in my hands.
From my violistic vantage point, the structure of the opening of the piece became much clearer to me. The opening measure, which I understand as a Beethoven in his monumental defiant mood (but am usually tempted to dismiss as simply a tonic chord) really came to life as Beethoven setting into motion three registers of the piano. The low, middle, and high sounds are clearly experienced as different locations, different choirs, from behind the piano with the lid off.
My use of the term "choirs" just now makes me start to wonder if that is the real meaning of this being a "choral fantasy," not just the fact that it has an actual vocal choir at the end. After all, once Beethoven starts repeating his "Ode to Joy" tune, he organizes the orchestra into choirs of double winds, clarinets, horns, etc. all accompanied by piano, and then there is a choir of vocal solosists, then the full choir.
A couple of details related to the viola part were important to my experience. At one point, Beethoven gives the violists a single note on beat four of a measure that feels early and funny. We violists laughed at the way it felt every time we played it. I doubt that one note is even heard in the context of the whole orchestra, but it's something cute and special Betehoven put there just for the violists.
At another point, there is a very rapid transition from pizzicato to arco. If we are to take this literally as a change that all the violists should make at the same time while playing both the last plucked note and the first bowed note, it has implications for tempo. And it happens at a point at which the piece might really take off. I wonder if this is a spot at which one should take a cue for the tempo from a seemingly obscure detail in the viola part.
There are several tricky transitions I referenced in my last post. In performance, there is a sense of synergy that pulls the group through those transitions even if some of the players are uncertain. Perhaps the piece is enough in our collective consciousness so that as a group we know how it goes, or maybe Beethoven has written in such a way that the tenuousness of some lines dovetails with more certain material in other instruments (but I don't think that's what happens.)
There are many passages that feel and sound very different, and the particular differences leave me thinking that this piece is more for the listeners than for the performers. Some portions feel jumpy and uncertain but sound sublime and like paradise. But a lot of the performers do get to sit around and listen during the piece, so Beethoven includes us as listeners as much as he can.
Finally, the great triplet ascending octave-ish passages in the piano in the presto finale sound very brilliant as if a rocket has been fired up out of the orchestra, but they do not feel brilliant as you play them.
On Monday night, our Chowan performance season had its great conclusion with the majority of our music students and faculty, as well as a number of members of the Virginia Symphony, performing Schubert's Mass in G Major and Beethoven's Choral Fantasy. These "Masterworks Concerts" are terrific projects that bring the year to a rousing close and expose students and community to grand musical experiences that they can't find anywhere else in our region.
My friend, Jeff Prillaman, sang in the performance and suggested that I write a paper on playing the Fantasy as a pianist on the viola. I might make a more formal presentation of this at some point, but for now, I want to share my experiences here.
I was seated directly behind the piano (on the bass side) and the lid of the piano was off. This was a more more powerful and compelling sonic experiecne than sitting at the keyboard with a board (the music rack) between me and the strings.
Adding to the effect of power was the fact that I was surrounded by sound and the viola vibrated sympathetically in my hands.
From my violistic vantage point, the structure of the opening of the piece became much clearer to me. The opening measure, which I understand as a Beethoven in his monumental defiant mood (but am usually tempted to dismiss as simply a tonic chord) really came to life as Beethoven setting into motion three registers of the piano. The low, middle, and high sounds are clearly experienced as different locations, different choirs, from behind the piano with the lid off.
My use of the term "choirs" just now makes me start to wonder if that is the real meaning of this being a "choral fantasy," not just the fact that it has an actual vocal choir at the end. After all, once Beethoven starts repeating his "Ode to Joy" tune, he organizes the orchestra into choirs of double winds, clarinets, horns, etc. all accompanied by piano, and then there is a choir of vocal solosists, then the full choir.
A couple of details related to the viola part were important to my experience. At one point, Beethoven gives the violists a single note on beat four of a measure that feels early and funny. We violists laughed at the way it felt every time we played it. I doubt that one note is even heard in the context of the whole orchestra, but it's something cute and special Betehoven put there just for the violists.
At another point, there is a very rapid transition from pizzicato to arco. If we are to take this literally as a change that all the violists should make at the same time while playing both the last plucked note and the first bowed note, it has implications for tempo. And it happens at a point at which the piece might really take off. I wonder if this is a spot at which one should take a cue for the tempo from a seemingly obscure detail in the viola part.
There are several tricky transitions I referenced in my last post. In performance, there is a sense of synergy that pulls the group through those transitions even if some of the players are uncertain. Perhaps the piece is enough in our collective consciousness so that as a group we know how it goes, or maybe Beethoven has written in such a way that the tenuousness of some lines dovetails with more certain material in other instruments (but I don't think that's what happens.)
There are many passages that feel and sound very different, and the particular differences leave me thinking that this piece is more for the listeners than for the performers. Some portions feel jumpy and uncertain but sound sublime and like paradise. But a lot of the performers do get to sit around and listen during the piece, so Beethoven includes us as listeners as much as he can.
Finally, the great triplet ascending octave-ish passages in the piano in the presto finale sound very brilliant as if a rocket has been fired up out of the orchestra, but they do not feel brilliant as you play them.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
That Tricky Beethoven
Tomorrow night we are performing Schubert G Major Mass and Beethoven Choral Fantasy - two beloved works - on the season-closing Masterworks Concert at Chowan.
The Fantasy has a couple of transitions at which the tempo, and sometimes meter, change very abruptly. One of the transitions is designed to confuse the ear of the listener - which means it can confuse the people playing it as well!
The following quotation from Ignaz von Seyfried, a friend of Beethoven, applies.
But when, especially in the Scherzos of his symphonies, sudden, unexpected changes of tempo threw all into confusion, he would laugh tremendously, assure the men he had looked for nothing else, that he had been waiting for it to happen, and would take almost childish pleasure in the thought that he had been successful in unhorsing such routined orchestral knights.
The Fantasy has a couple of transitions at which the tempo, and sometimes meter, change very abruptly. One of the transitions is designed to confuse the ear of the listener - which means it can confuse the people playing it as well!
The following quotation from Ignaz von Seyfried, a friend of Beethoven, applies.
But when, especially in the Scherzos of his symphonies, sudden, unexpected changes of tempo threw all into confusion, he would laugh tremendously, assure the men he had looked for nothing else, that he had been waiting for it to happen, and would take almost childish pleasure in the thought that he had been successful in unhorsing such routined orchestral knights.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Research Reflection
It seems to me that a lot of good music research needs to be interdisciplinary. After all, music connects with a wide range of disciplines in a variety of ways. In fact, although we often picture research as being the work of specialists, trying to get a fuller picture of whatever one is researching frequently leads the researcher to acquiring knowledge beyond his or her own field.
Here are the two recent examples that got me thinking about this:
A student is working on a term paper about Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The text in the symphony is by Schiller. For this student to do a good job with his research, he needs to go beyond what the books about Beethoven 9 say about Schiller to get an idea of the place of this text in his overall output, etc.
I am researching Erik Satie's Sports et Divertissements. I need to give a short presentation for Chowan's Symposium on Monday. My plan was to give a little general background and play a few of the pieces while pointing out what I have noticed about them, mostly from a theory and performance angle. Most of the reading I did was supporting that approach until I discovered an excellent book by Mary E. Brown that points out the fact that the person most responsible for the publication of the piano pieces and the drawings that went along with them had a background in women's fashion magazines, and the whole layout of Sports et Divertissements comes from that realm.
Here are the two recent examples that got me thinking about this:
A student is working on a term paper about Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The text in the symphony is by Schiller. For this student to do a good job with his research, he needs to go beyond what the books about Beethoven 9 say about Schiller to get an idea of the place of this text in his overall output, etc.
I am researching Erik Satie's Sports et Divertissements. I need to give a short presentation for Chowan's Symposium on Monday. My plan was to give a little general background and play a few of the pieces while pointing out what I have noticed about them, mostly from a theory and performance angle. Most of the reading I did was supporting that approach until I discovered an excellent book by Mary E. Brown that points out the fact that the person most responsible for the publication of the piano pieces and the drawings that went along with them had a background in women's fashion magazines, and the whole layout of Sports et Divertissements comes from that realm.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
March 6 - 12
A complex, rich, intense week -
Friday: NACUSA national conference at Chowan
This involved many fascinating works and performances including
an airy trio by Harvey Stokes full of scales for all the instruments
my own "Chowan Etudes" played in one of the buildings they are about
Scott Brickman's "Sketches of Maine" which is a musical landscape that grows on me more and more
Andrew Cole's computer music piece "Staring at the Sun" that is a concerto for ping pong ball and also "Sound, Timbre, and Density III" in which the flute (played exquisitely by my friend Jeremy McEntire) wanders through a garden of textures and takes on new hues and moods in each new setting
Jim Guthrie's "Electro-Sonata No. 3" with a speech-derived first movement, bubbly second movement, and an uplifting finale
Joe Alexander's piece for tape and tuba "Infamy" that develops from Roosevlt's famous statement
A fascinating slur technique etude for guitar composed and played by my colleague, Christian Loebs
John Allemeier's "Quiet Music" in which Dillon Savage tamed a cantankerous instrument with the grace and dignity of a real musical gentleman
Jeff Prillaman bringing my new songs to life and making them really work
performing some songs with haunting motives - "A Child's Garden" by Benjamin Williams - with Jeff
and much more
Saturday:
department of music strategic planning retreat
followed by birthday party with non-music colleagues
Kathy fixed chilli and lime tarts for this.
Sunday:
a new sense of vocation as a church musician
and an organ recital by Chowan alumna, Faye Monroe. This was a great reminder of how good some tunes are like Bach's "Be Thou But Near" and "Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring."
Then, revival services at Lasker on Sun, Mon, and Tues nights with Chowan students playing special music for the services.
During those days there were edifying and interesting theological views shared:
Lloyd Lee Wilson, a Quaker and our registrar, discussed a technique for learning to listen for God's voice - identify a voice that is not God and tune it out. Then, your life is quieter, and it's easier to discern the next voice that is not God, etc.
Another theologian I know also shared his view of Jesus and the disciples. For various reasons involving the historic and cultural context, he thinks the disciples may have been younger than we tend to picture them - as young as 8 to 10 years old even. These would have been considered young men apprenticing in their fathers' businesses and studying with the rabbi for their bar mitzvahs. It may be a hard idea to accept, but it could explain various misunderstandings and behaviors in the gospels.
Also thinking about practicing these days-
I once heard a mockingbird practicing, I think. Late at night, the bird was rehearsing its repertoire of songs. On each of several repetitions, each song sounded better inflected and more authentic to me. Maybe that's how we people should practice.
A lesson today on Bach E minor Toccata - Classical music is different from most of the music we hear in that it is long term music. It unfolds its ideas over a large span of time. Thus, to play it well, we need to follow the musical argument as it develops. The introduction to the toccata presents an idea which is lifted up and viewed from various angles, and then developed until it culminates in a new idea - the crux of the passage.
All this amidst students and friends struggling, and layoffs all around. It's a good time to pray for everybody.
Friday: NACUSA national conference at Chowan
This involved many fascinating works and performances including
an airy trio by Harvey Stokes full of scales for all the instruments
my own "Chowan Etudes" played in one of the buildings they are about
Scott Brickman's "Sketches of Maine" which is a musical landscape that grows on me more and more
Andrew Cole's computer music piece "Staring at the Sun" that is a concerto for ping pong ball and also "Sound, Timbre, and Density III" in which the flute (played exquisitely by my friend Jeremy McEntire) wanders through a garden of textures and takes on new hues and moods in each new setting
Jim Guthrie's "Electro-Sonata No. 3" with a speech-derived first movement, bubbly second movement, and an uplifting finale
Joe Alexander's piece for tape and tuba "Infamy" that develops from Roosevlt's famous statement
A fascinating slur technique etude for guitar composed and played by my colleague, Christian Loebs
John Allemeier's "Quiet Music" in which Dillon Savage tamed a cantankerous instrument with the grace and dignity of a real musical gentleman
Jeff Prillaman bringing my new songs to life and making them really work
performing some songs with haunting motives - "A Child's Garden" by Benjamin Williams - with Jeff
and much more
Saturday:
department of music strategic planning retreat
followed by birthday party with non-music colleagues
Kathy fixed chilli and lime tarts for this.
Sunday:
a new sense of vocation as a church musician
and an organ recital by Chowan alumna, Faye Monroe. This was a great reminder of how good some tunes are like Bach's "Be Thou But Near" and "Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring."
Then, revival services at Lasker on Sun, Mon, and Tues nights with Chowan students playing special music for the services.
During those days there were edifying and interesting theological views shared:
Lloyd Lee Wilson, a Quaker and our registrar, discussed a technique for learning to listen for God's voice - identify a voice that is not God and tune it out. Then, your life is quieter, and it's easier to discern the next voice that is not God, etc.
Another theologian I know also shared his view of Jesus and the disciples. For various reasons involving the historic and cultural context, he thinks the disciples may have been younger than we tend to picture them - as young as 8 to 10 years old even. These would have been considered young men apprenticing in their fathers' businesses and studying with the rabbi for their bar mitzvahs. It may be a hard idea to accept, but it could explain various misunderstandings and behaviors in the gospels.
Also thinking about practicing these days-
I once heard a mockingbird practicing, I think. Late at night, the bird was rehearsing its repertoire of songs. On each of several repetitions, each song sounded better inflected and more authentic to me. Maybe that's how we people should practice.
A lesson today on Bach E minor Toccata - Classical music is different from most of the music we hear in that it is long term music. It unfolds its ideas over a large span of time. Thus, to play it well, we need to follow the musical argument as it develops. The introduction to the toccata presents an idea which is lifted up and viewed from various angles, and then developed until it culminates in a new idea - the crux of the passage.
All this amidst students and friends struggling, and layoffs all around. It's a good time to pray for everybody.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
NCMTA Regional
Today it's cold and rainy - a perfect day to stay in the house with the dog and the cat, eat almonds, and drink spiced tea, which is what I have been doing!
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of adjudicating a division of the Raleigh regional North Carolina Music Teachers Association. I was delighted to hear so many young students who had their music solidly memorized, performed with excellent attention to the various markings on the score from articulations to dynamics, and who did so with distinct personality!
I tried to follow the criteria given on the evaluation form very precisely. The difference between "Superior" and "Excellent" was essentially that the superiors did what the excellents did, only with imagination. That extra spark of imagination, of personal connection with the music, makes you want to listen and causes you to find the playing satisfying and sometimes even surprising.
This was a good refresher course for me in what musical talent really is - physical, mental, and personal.
Specific repertoire notes:
I heard numerous young people play "Jimbo's Lullaby" by Debussy. I was moved by the luminous and tender sonority of the first appearance of the theme every time.
Another piece on the official list was a short Ligeti work which features several sudden changes of musical direction and dynamics. The young people did a great job with it.
I was also struck by how well many of the youngsters played their Baroque selections very well. I usually think of Baroque music as being a big challenege for students because of the counterpoint and the requirement of meticulous attention to fingering. But many of these budding pianists mastered these challenges.
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of adjudicating a division of the Raleigh regional North Carolina Music Teachers Association. I was delighted to hear so many young students who had their music solidly memorized, performed with excellent attention to the various markings on the score from articulations to dynamics, and who did so with distinct personality!
I tried to follow the criteria given on the evaluation form very precisely. The difference between "Superior" and "Excellent" was essentially that the superiors did what the excellents did, only with imagination. That extra spark of imagination, of personal connection with the music, makes you want to listen and causes you to find the playing satisfying and sometimes even surprising.
This was a good refresher course for me in what musical talent really is - physical, mental, and personal.
Specific repertoire notes:
I heard numerous young people play "Jimbo's Lullaby" by Debussy. I was moved by the luminous and tender sonority of the first appearance of the theme every time.
Another piece on the official list was a short Ligeti work which features several sudden changes of musical direction and dynamics. The young people did a great job with it.
I was also struck by how well many of the youngsters played their Baroque selections very well. I usually think of Baroque music as being a big challenege for students because of the counterpoint and the requirement of meticulous attention to fingering. But many of these budding pianists mastered these challenges.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Chowan Pianofest 2009
Chowan Pianofest was this weekend and consisted of three concerts. The first was a lecture-recital about which I have commented at length on the Skinner Anthology Blog.
On Saturday night, we presented our first-ever Pianofest ensemble concert. Chowan piano majors joined our guest pianist, Ariel Dechosa, to perform duets I wrote specifically to show off some of the students' strengths and interests. I joined Ariel for Gottschalk's arrangement of the William Tell Overture, and my colleague Paula Pressnell and I played duets by Beethoven and Dvorak. Mrs. Pressnell also played Haydn's Sonata No. 52 in her characteristically well-planned, remarkably clear, and quick fashion.
Another interesting aspect of the program was the opening sequence of solo works. My student, Terrell Batten, performed the famous Bach Prelude in C Major from the Well-Tempered Clavier Book I, followed by Chopin's Prelude in C Minor. After those two works, another student, Josiah Antill, performed James M. Guthrie's Prelude in C Minor that explores aspects of the Bach and Chopin Preludes simultaneously.
I was very pleased with my students' work on this concert. Each one entered into the project earnestly and seriously. Mark Puckett showed fine technical and musical discipline in Grieg's Ase's Death and Debussy's Dr. Gradus ad Parnassum. Terrell conveyed a moving personal connection with the music he played, and Josiah played the last movement of Beethoven's "Moonlight" Sonata with good variety of sound while maintaining a steady sense of momentum.
On Sunday afternoon, Ariel Dechosa presented a concert including the third sonata of Brahms and the sixth of Prokofief. Ariel played the Brahms with beautiful focus and made a number of the transitions in the work sound profoundly right. His performance of the Prokofief was also eye-opening in terms of dexterity, energy, strength, and musicianship. I think there are several amazing facts regarding this work: it was concieved in the first place, concieved for piano, concieved for one person at a piano, and there are people who can play it well!
The juxtaposition of these three concerts that surveyed such a wide range of styles led to excellent discussion in Monday morning's theory class in which students had many thoughtful questions about aspects of piano playing from issues regarding memorization and fatigue to considering patterns like Alberti bass and extended techniques like playing the piano with one's fist or forearm.
One of the ongoing issues is the theme of battle in music. On Friday night, I played Kotzwara's once-popular Battle of Prague. While this piece, written in the late 1700s, seems to have very little in common with the musical vocabulary of Prokofief's Sixth, Ariel noticed many similarities in terms of the representative aspects of both works and the ways one has to maneuver about the keyboard. Dr. Guthrie and I have continued to wonder about the battle genre and about its progress since the Civil War. I've started to entertain the idea of writing a battle piece, but would rather not glorify battle in my work. Battle has become so devastating and impersonal that a work like Penderecki's Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima might better reflect battle in our age than a more traditional battle narrative.
For archival purposes, a number of Chowan students also did a great job with recording this weekend's concerts, under the supervision of Dr. Guthrie. I'm sure all the pianist participants really appreciate that work.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Unexpected Discovery
Tonight, I was exploring recordings of "The Maiden and the Nightingale" by Granados. I'm studying the piece now, which is saturated with performance directions regarding fluctuations of rhythm. I wanted to hear how other pianists have interpreted these and other markings.
There are a lot of good recordings of the piece on-line, but the exciting surprise for me was the discovery of an exceptional pianist I had never come across before. His name was Harry Vooren and was a student of de Larrocha, according to the note on YouTube.
His recording demonstrates playing that is full of details without losing sweep, elegant without losing emotion.
The second post I wrote on this blog back in 2005 just happened to be about the piece "The Maiden and the Nightingale."
There are a lot of good recordings of the piece on-line, but the exciting surprise for me was the discovery of an exceptional pianist I had never come across before. His name was Harry Vooren and was a student of de Larrocha, according to the note on YouTube.
His recording demonstrates playing that is full of details without losing sweep, elegant without losing emotion.
The second post I wrote on this blog back in 2005 just happened to be about the piece "The Maiden and the Nightingale."
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Playing/Living Joyfully
Yesterday while practicing, I started wondering about what makes for joyful playing.
Here are some factors that seem to be part of it at times:
a sense of leaping in many phrases
lively articulation
having a sense of moving forward across the barline
and particularly applying that sense of forward momentum through the more thorny sections of a work
This morning, it occured to me that joyful living might share those aspects:
leaping into whatever day or activity is ahead with energy
clearly articulating what it is you are trying to do
staying in motion and moving ahead, especially in rough times
This is another nice example of what Dr. Falby says - everything I know, I know from music.
Here are some factors that seem to be part of it at times:
a sense of leaping in many phrases
lively articulation
having a sense of moving forward across the barline
and particularly applying that sense of forward momentum through the more thorny sections of a work
This morning, it occured to me that joyful living might share those aspects:
leaping into whatever day or activity is ahead with energy
clearly articulating what it is you are trying to do
staying in motion and moving ahead, especially in rough times
This is another nice example of what Dr. Falby says - everything I know, I know from music.
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