I've been listening to George Harrison's "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." It's a touching song that becomes profoundly moving when you imagine the words being God's words to you or to the entire human race. I have linked to a version in which the words are very clear and there are few instruments - good for meditation. If you want to use it that way, I recommend listening several times to let the ideas sink in as a message for you. Also, I'd ignore the images that are provided at the link.
I'm also wondering about the title "King of the Jews" that is often associated with Jesus. I think we sometimes assume that is an appropriate title for him, but I can't recall a time in scripture when he uses the title himself or approves it. Early in Matthew, others are looking for the one that is "born the King of the Jews," and towards the end of all the gospels, Pilate asks if he is the King of the Jews, to which Jesus responds, "You say so."
Finally, I'm thinking back to death of Pope John Paul II which was close to this time five years ago. It seems like it's been a longer time than that. That was a sad Easter. Reading a blogpost from that time takes me back to what that was like.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Chowan Pianofest 2010
This weekend was our third Pianofest here at Chowan and it fulfilled my hopes, as well as surprising me a bit.
The primary purposes of Pianofest, as I see them, are to refresh our enthusiasm here about pianistic work and to inspire us. Hopefully, the various events being open to the public also results in a general growth of interest in the art of piano-playing.
Our first concert involved my colleague, Paula Pressnell, playing the four impromptus of Schubert's Op. 90 in order. Between nos. 1 and 2, Mark Puckett played Chopin's preludes in e, b, D flat, and g. Between nos. 3 and 4, Josiah Antill played Liszt's B Minor Ballade. Mark, Josiah, and I experimented with designing powerpoint shows to enhance the audience experience of these pieces. Mark's show started with a few sentences about the context in which Chopin composed his pieces, followed by images inspired by the pianist von Bulow's poetic titles for those four preludes: Suffocation, Tolling Bells, Raindrop, and Impatience. Josiah's powerpoint presented the association of Liszt's piece with Byron's "The Prisoner of Chillon" and the subsequent slides led us through the phases of the poem as we listened to the piece.
We learned from this concert that Mrs. Pressnell is a particularly good Schubert player and that Schubert sounds especially good on the Grotrian. The first impromptu put us in just the right mood to experience the unique phenomena known as the classical piano recital.
While I'm interested in innovation and feel it is my responsibility to provide my students some introduction to basic skills in a variety of styles, it was good to be reminded that the piano recital is its own unique art form and was perfected some years ago in Europe. The piano recital can be, and often is, an experience of reflection, bordering on the sacred. It creates a container or clears a space for contemplating great Western and human values: the work of the mind and the soul, the the experience of longing, and the search for peace. Again, Paula's playing, as well as the student's powerpoints and pianistic efforts, directed us to such beautiful and lofty ruminations. And I don't think I'm just describing my experience as the sense of calm and engagement was palpable in the hall throughout the concert.
Special thanks to Terrell Batten for the great work with the spotlight, in particular at the close of the concert when he noticed that there was no other light left for Mrs. Pressnell's final bow and quickly remedied the problem!
I played our second concert, which was a concert built around the sixth Beatitude of Jesus: Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. I chose various works to express the idea of purity through musical means from a pure experience of the sound of the instrument in Jahn Adams's "China Gates" to the pure quality of the transcription of Bach's Chaconne (originally for violin) for piano, left hand alone, by Brahms. I also played Haydn's Sonata No. 48, which took me back to my childhood, and managed to play it without mishap. (It was the first piece I had a memory slip in on my first solo recital around 25 years ago!)
The main message I got from preparing and performing this recital was to strive for musical purity in my work. By that I mean to keep my feet planted on the earth and to focus a little more on musical fundamentals like knowing the mood that is to be created, establishing and maintaining a tempo, analyze and plan to highlight the relationships of tones melodically and harmonically (phrasing and balance). . . If I want to add in something more imaginative or creative, it's probably safest to think of it in just those terms - something added into the basic work of musicianship, not something to completely and instantaneously transform my approach.
Along these same lines, as I worked on the Chaconne and looked for a convincing way to pace and inflect the music, my faith, which I sometimes practice, was affirmed - the answer was in the score. For me, the slur and phrase markings were a major key to interpreting this work. The breakthrough came when I started to think of them more like bowings. The longer the marking, the more energy went into the line and the less energy went into the individual notes. The shorter the marking, the less energy went into the line, and more energy into the individual notes.
Thank you, Taylor Yandell, for the photos of my first performance of the Chaconne.
I concluded the evening with Gottschalk's Berceuse. This piece is based on a song he wrote in which a mother sings to her baby while the father is away. I assume the father is away fighting in the Civil War. I had been wondering how the low bass octaves figured into this scene, and I had been trying to keep them in the background. During the concert, I realized that they might be thought of as the distant rumbling of the cannons of war.
On Saturday, I held a masterclass that was attended by a diverse audience including music majors, music appreciation students, several students from a studio in the next town, and a few interested folks from the community. I like teaching before an audience like this as it gives people who are not musicians some insight into the discipline of music. The young students played well, and it's always inspiring to hear the results of the hard work that developing pianists are doing.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Fulfillment
Last Wednesday, I went to church to practice organ. When I sit down in the choir loft to put on my organ shoes, I am always reminded to pray, even if I have not been praying much lately. I think it has something to do with the nature of the sanctuary, my role in shaping worship there, and my relationship with that house of worship.
On this particular occasion, I also thought of the fact that I've been playing piano for over thirty years now. It's odd to be old enough to have been doing something for over thirty years. Everyone who has been there must know that. But it can also be good.
It dawned on me that the deepening sense of fulfillment I get from musical work has something to do with the fact that I had many early childhood experiences with music. It seems to me that our early exposure must be a major factor in developing our potential for personal fulfillment. It would be hard to find a much better argument for a diverse education for the young.
On this particular occasion, I also thought of the fact that I've been playing piano for over thirty years now. It's odd to be old enough to have been doing something for over thirty years. Everyone who has been there must know that. But it can also be good.
It dawned on me that the deepening sense of fulfillment I get from musical work has something to do with the fact that I had many early childhood experiences with music. It seems to me that our early exposure must be a major factor in developing our potential for personal fulfillment. It would be hard to find a much better argument for a diverse education for the young.
Monday, February 01, 2010
January 2010
We've been enjoying a beautiful and much-needed, snow-induced sabbath these last few days. There are at least four inches, and some places, seven inches of snow in our region, plus layers of ice. It's a quiet time and great for eating homemade muffins and drinking coffee.
Last weekend I played two recitals with my good friend Jeremy McEntire at University of Richmond and Randolph Macon. I hadn't played at Randolph Macon before and enjoyed St. Anne's Hall, which is a small timbered church building with a nicely responsive Steinway and a warm acoustic.
One of the works we played was Rachmaninoff's Vocalise. I've played the piece many times with various instruments and voice. I always wonder at its falling lines, especially the long descent at the beginning. This aspect of falling is one of the things about Russian music that has mystified and depressed me by turns.
One of the lectionary passages for the day was Psalm 130 which begins, "Out of the depths I cry to thee, O thou Eternal." As I thought about that reading and Vocalise, I thought of a new way to understand those falling lines. I can hear them not as our sinking down but Christ's coming to be with us in the depths of our human experience. This removes the desolation and replaces it with hope, strength, and empathy.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
What Music Can Do
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!
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!
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)