Joy, Cues, SInging

Joy

With another week and a half of practicing under my belt it has occurred to me that the sensations of mild displeasure or outright struggle that sometimes accompany practicing are really to be expected since the activity is really about altering one's mind through sustained effort. Recognizing that bigger picture helps  move toward joy which is something that occasionally takes a back seat in efforts at making music. Remembering that we are changing ourselves through the process and also seeking to engage joyfully with musical labor can really refresh and energize one's mindset about practicing. Remembering that practicing is a "get to" and not a "have to" experience helps, too. I think I'm rediscovering that practicing is not just something I do - it's something I like to do!

Cues

I did a bit of teaching this week which got me thinking of cues. One model for teaching piano is that of helping students develop internal cues for how to do the activity well. I consciously work that way with my students sometimes, but I seldom do my own practicing with real intention in that area. However, I should and could apply the approach at every stage in my learning. Thinking in terms of what cues one needs at each stage seems like a great way of dealing with the fluid nature of making music at the piano. What cues do I need in this phrase, on this day, at this piano, for this performance . . .?

This discipline of giving one's self good cues is reminiscent of the practice of centering prayer in which the contemplative acknowledges the various thoughts that distract, without allowing them to truly disturb the endeavor, and then gently directs the mind and soul back to the focus.

Teaching piano lessons in the otherwise pretty free-flowing midst of summer vacation makes me grateful for such settings and situations that give me cues that trigger clear and well-organized behaviors on my part. When I am in a room with a piano and a student, my system has a pretty good idea of what to do. When I am in front of a class of aural theory students, my experience and training take over. It is nice to be in such familiar terrain where there are less fundamental issues to decide.

Singing
I've always heard that one should sing one's piano music to determine phrasing and so forth. I noticed this week that singing can also help to envision an appropriate base line to which to return in terms of both dynamics and intensity. The limitations of the voice in those areas are strongly sensed, and because of that, I think issues of scale and expression can become clearer when using the voice than when facing a piano with two hands and no mediation. So often, the flavor of the music becomes distinct and touching when we know not so much when to "go for it" but when to back off. As Earl Carlyss often said in chamber coachings, "If you can't raise the bridge, lower the stream."

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!

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.

Christmas in Venice

We spent the Sunday after Christmas at Venice Presbyterian Church in Venice, FL.

The service was a service of lessons and carols. We were told that the basic format goes back to Archbishop Benson who chose the readings and so forth back in 1880. Also, the service of lessons and carols has been broadcast on BBC from Cambridge every year since 1928. (This reminds me that I read somewhere that Handel’s Messiah has been performed somewhere every year since it was composed.)

One phrase on the bulletin from Venice Presbyterian refers to the “joy-filled traditional worship style for which VPC is known.” The service we attended perfectly exemplified that statement.

I’ll highlight some of the elements that made the service especially rich for me:

After the reading about the expulsion of humanity from the Garden of Eden, the organist played a setting of a very old and seldom heard hymn, “Through Adam’s Fall All Men Are Cursed.” This gave a sense of connection back through centuries of religious tradition.

Another musical highlight was a piano solo presented by the pastor. He played his well-crafted interpretation with seriousness and sincerity. The trajectory of each phrase was beautifully calibrated to fit into its overall context. His rendering was also characterized by striking shifts of color and very well-projected soft playing.

Just a little later, the choir sang an arrangement of “He is Born, the Divine Christ Child.” In addition to their good blend, the choir added depth to the service at this point with a verse or so in French.

Throughout the service, readers, many of whom were members of the church’s pastoral staff , read passages of prophecy or the details of Christ’s birth from Luke and Matthew. Each reader’s tone matched the respective reading like a glove. One conveyed the sweetness of the manger scene, another, the profound beauty of the coming of Christ, and yet another, the world of the Wise Men.

Regarding these readers, I appreciated being able to match the names in the order of service with the names of the pastoral staff on the back of the bulletin. Coming to the church as a visitor, it gave me a good sense of the warmth and range of some of the folks who minister in the church.

Two of the congregational hymns were “Angels We Have Heard on High” and “We Three Kings.” I thought the organist gave each of these just the right flavor. For the second verse of “Angels” his registration was very reedy and he played a little staccato. This underscored the hardy ways of the shepherds. And throughout “Kings” he maintained a sense of the gait of dromedaries throughout, thus carrying the congregation along on the journey of the Wise Men.

Two surprises (at least to me) were saved for close to the end of the service. The final congregational hymn was “In Bethlehem a Babe Was Born.” This was a new carol to me, and it did a great job of summarizing all the ground that we have covered in the service. The hymn went on to call for contemporary action regarding the ancient message we had been hearing. I also liked it because of a rarely-heard iii chord at the end of the penultimate line that harmonizes the word "forlorn."

The other surprise was the choir’s spirited singing of an anthem entitled “Rejoice with Exceeding Great Joy” by D. Johnson (same arranger as for “He is Born” mentioned above.) This piece was a combination of Bizet’s “Farandole,” “We Three Kings,” and “The First Noel” with quite a few glissandi thrown into the mix. But the great thing about it was the joyful and attitude of the singers! Trumpets and drums couldn’t have added any more life to the scene. The fact that the joy was deeply felt and conveyed with so little inhibition made me notice it and participate in it.
It was during that piece that I really understood the phrase from the bulletin about “joy-filled traditional worship style.”

Finally, after having such a good and uplifting time in the church, we were reminded through a thoughtful benediction and a Bonhoeffer quotation that the world outside the church’s doors is hurting and that we are called to make the joy of Christ’s Kingdom a reality in our world today. The service was bookended by this type of thought - the pastor’s prayer at the beginning provided that same sort of understanding of the context of our worship. We visited the Venice Presbyterian once before and heard the same type of message then as well.

We were very grateful for this Christmastide experience .

Freshmen Devotionals

Last week was our last week of classes and our final devotional was as follows.

Musicians get very busy at Christmastime. There are extra concerts, church services, parties, etc., all of which require music.

Often we hear the complaint that the busy-ness and commercialism take us away from real devotion to Christ at Christmastime.

While the busy-ness of the Christmas season may distract us fom whatever routine of quiet time we may have, I think a healthier and more joyful approach to the situation might be to recognize that all the busy-ness, whether sacred or secular, is a reverberation of Christ coming into the world so many years ago.

Thus, as we go about the myriad of things we have to do in this season, we can engage in each of them worshipfully and joyfully as we remain mindful of Christ's coming that created this cultural rhythm that has endured for centuries.