A new semester has begun and that means I have lots of new music to learn. It's actually one of my favorite times of the year. I thrive on getting all of this wonderful music in my hands that I'm not familiar with and getting to plow through it so I can learn the notes as quickly as possible.
This year has an added "treat" for me. I'm one of the pianists for opera workshop. This term features Benjamin Britten's Noye's Fludde. This is going to be an interesting experience for me since I am not terribly versed in the British composer's works and it will be my first time to play rehearsals for a full-staged opera. (Previously, I've only played scenes or assisted during vocal coachings.)
I picked up the score late in the spring so I could learn the music over the summer. I worked through a few passages, but quickly realized that I really don't like the show. Its harmonies are challenging and often feels extremely repetitive. At the end of August, however, the cast and I got together for a rough read through. I was pleasantly surprised! Intellectually I know that is a perfect formula, but it was so nice to realize that this short opera is not going to be the horrendous experience I was anticipating. Thankfully I'm only responsible for 1 hour of rehearsals on Monday afternoons most weeks. A few passages are going to demand a lot of work on my part to just get through them, but most are actually quite pianistic.
I know I'm going to learn a lot through this experience. I'm certain there are things I should be preparing for that I am omitting because of ignorance. What was the one thing you wish someone had told you when you played for your first opera? I'll keep you all informed of what's happening as we progress through the semester.
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Friday, September 7, 2012
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Waking to a World of Music
As I reviewed my opening lecture last night, I was reminded of the concept that music is all around us. I always look forward to showing the students a video recorded performance of 4'33". It breaks the ice a little bit in this "super serious" class, but it also serves as a reminder that sounds are all around us -- just waiting to have their beauty discovered.
I suppose that is why I was so receptive to being awakened by a morning serenade. Shortly after 6am this morning, work began outside my window. The rhythmic banging of machinery provided an interesting accompaniment to the songs of two competing birds who have set up nests just outside my bedroom window. Normally I would be horribly annoyed at such an early wake-up call, but this morning I found myself intrigued and strangely drawn to other musical sounds from my environment.
I honestly hope that this pseudo-aleatory performance is a sign of how things will go for the next few weeks. I really want to take a new look at music with fresh eyes and discover new treasures that had slipped into the background noise.
When was the last time you stopped long enough to listen to the symphony of sounds playing all around you? If you stop long enough, you just might be surprised at the masterpiece that will greet your spirit and your ears.
*Image by Vickie Warner - www.allaboutartgallery.com
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
A Hometown Recital
Last night, I joined Marty Bishop, a trumpet DMA candidate at the University of North Texas, for a recital at the Valley View High School Fine Arts Center in Jonesboro, Arkansas. The program featured works by Henry Purcell, Joseph Haydn, Georges Enesco, Stanley Friedman, Gabriel Faure, and Jean-Baptiste Arban. The recital was a celebration of accomplishment and an opportunity to play for supportive friends and family who have not heard us play in several years. All in all, last night's performance was one of the most rewarding and enjoyable that I have recently played.
It was refreshing to work with a gifted musician who is confident in his abilities and does not need to come across as an ego maniac. Other performance experiences this year have not been as pleasant because of overly exalted pride on the part of other participants. It was refreshing to work with Marty, a musician who not only knows his strengths and weaknesses, but also recognizes that the ensemble playing is much better when kindness and laughter dominate the rehearsal and performance process.
Since this was not a recital that was high pressure, the approach to the program was much more relaxed. Obviously both Marty and I wanted to play our best; however, we were both realistic in our expectations as well. Because we were fitting the rehearsal and performance into our busy holiday plans, we rehearsed on Monday afternoon and presented the recital on the following evening. That meant that there were unresolved ensemble issues and some moments of uncertainty, but we both were confident enough as individuals that we pulled the performance off with aplomb.
As an ensemble, the highlight of the evening was the Haydn Concerto in Eb Major. I have always enjoyed this piece and look forward to the opportunity to play the work with a gifted musician. It was fun and effortless -- a high compliment when speaking of this early classical work.
Personally, the recital also marked a turning point for me personally. As a collaborative pianist, I rarely perform solo works. In addition to generally not enjoying solo playing as much as chamber work, I often shy away from programming a solo work on a chamber program as I feel it is difficult to change mindsets mid-stream. Last night, however, I played Faure's first nocturne in Eb minor as a solo. Not only was the playing good, it was quite enjoyable. Since I was already using scores in the collaborative works, I gave myself permission to present a solo composition with the printed music. I felt comfortable and was able to think about the music itself rather than fretting over when the inevitable memory slip would occur and if I would be able to recover. That is such a freeing experience! I won't say that every program will now contain a piano solo, but I won't be diametrically opposed to it now.
It was refreshing to work with a gifted musician who is confident in his abilities and does not need to come across as an ego maniac. Other performance experiences this year have not been as pleasant because of overly exalted pride on the part of other participants. It was refreshing to work with Marty, a musician who not only knows his strengths and weaknesses, but also recognizes that the ensemble playing is much better when kindness and laughter dominate the rehearsal and performance process.
Since this was not a recital that was high pressure, the approach to the program was much more relaxed. Obviously both Marty and I wanted to play our best; however, we were both realistic in our expectations as well. Because we were fitting the rehearsal and performance into our busy holiday plans, we rehearsed on Monday afternoon and presented the recital on the following evening. That meant that there were unresolved ensemble issues and some moments of uncertainty, but we both were confident enough as individuals that we pulled the performance off with aplomb.
As an ensemble, the highlight of the evening was the Haydn Concerto in Eb Major. I have always enjoyed this piece and look forward to the opportunity to play the work with a gifted musician. It was fun and effortless -- a high compliment when speaking of this early classical work.
Personally, the recital also marked a turning point for me personally. As a collaborative pianist, I rarely perform solo works. In addition to generally not enjoying solo playing as much as chamber work, I often shy away from programming a solo work on a chamber program as I feel it is difficult to change mindsets mid-stream. Last night, however, I played Faure's first nocturne in Eb minor as a solo. Not only was the playing good, it was quite enjoyable. Since I was already using scores in the collaborative works, I gave myself permission to present a solo composition with the printed music. I felt comfortable and was able to think about the music itself rather than fretting over when the inevitable memory slip would occur and if I would be able to recover. That is such a freeing experience! I won't say that every program will now contain a piano solo, but I won't be diametrically opposed to it now.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Musical Nightmares
With Halloween just a few days away, we are surrounded with images of the terrifying and frightening. I tend to avoid focusing on the events of October 31 because the images have always frightened me. To be honest, I am easily scared. It would not be surprising to hear that there's a yellow streak running down my back.
As I think back over my years as a student, I realize that certain pieces have given me nightmares. A few served as soundtracks to my own horrific nighttime dreams, but the normal source of my musical nightmares were pieces that were too difficult for me at the time.
The piece that immediately comes to mind is Chopin's F minor Fantasy. I was first introduced to the piece as a college junior. The Fantasy was to serve as the closing piece of my senior recital. For various reasons, the piece continually got ignored during my lessons, but remained a major focus of my personal practice sessions. This represented my first journey into the world of Chopin's larger works and I was extremely excited.
My excitement turned into panic when my professor discovered that I had practiced key passages of the piece incorrectly. The resulting tension made it impossible to play the work in its entirety. Rather than scraping the piece entirely, my teacher and I foolishly concurred that it was imperative to work on the piece since so much time had already been invested.
As the semester progressed, I was finally able to stumble through the entire work. As I fretted over the technical demands, memorization became a new and seemingly insurmountable problem. The recital hearing was a disaster and resulted in my first failing score as a piano student.
As you have probably assumed, the recital was completely restructured the following year. Thankfully, the Chopin Fantasy was no longer part of the plan. Since that horrible experience, I have attempted to revisit the piece on numerous occasions. Sadly, the work is now firmly connected with feelings of apprehension and has yet to be successfully performed publicly. I have come to accept the fact that this masterpiece may never have a place in my repertoire.
So that's the story of my musical nightmare and it continues to haunt me. I don't think I'm the only one who has had one of these disasters, though. I would love to hear your horrifying stories as well. (What can I say? Misery loves company!)
As I think back over my years as a student, I realize that certain pieces have given me nightmares. A few served as soundtracks to my own horrific nighttime dreams, but the normal source of my musical nightmares were pieces that were too difficult for me at the time.
The piece that immediately comes to mind is Chopin's F minor Fantasy. I was first introduced to the piece as a college junior. The Fantasy was to serve as the closing piece of my senior recital. For various reasons, the piece continually got ignored during my lessons, but remained a major focus of my personal practice sessions. This represented my first journey into the world of Chopin's larger works and I was extremely excited.
My excitement turned into panic when my professor discovered that I had practiced key passages of the piece incorrectly. The resulting tension made it impossible to play the work in its entirety. Rather than scraping the piece entirely, my teacher and I foolishly concurred that it was imperative to work on the piece since so much time had already been invested.
As the semester progressed, I was finally able to stumble through the entire work. As I fretted over the technical demands, memorization became a new and seemingly insurmountable problem. The recital hearing was a disaster and resulted in my first failing score as a piano student.
As you have probably assumed, the recital was completely restructured the following year. Thankfully, the Chopin Fantasy was no longer part of the plan. Since that horrible experience, I have attempted to revisit the piece on numerous occasions. Sadly, the work is now firmly connected with feelings of apprehension and has yet to be successfully performed publicly. I have come to accept the fact that this masterpiece may never have a place in my repertoire.
So that's the story of my musical nightmare and it continues to haunt me. I don't think I'm the only one who has had one of these disasters, though. I would love to hear your horrifying stories as well. (What can I say? Misery loves company!)
Monday, October 4, 2010
Trying Out Wagner!
The wait is finally over! On Saturday, I will have my first experience with a Wagnerian opera when I attend the Met HD broadcast of Robert Lepage's new production of Das Rheingold. This is no small feat for me as I am just beginning my personal journey into the world of opera; I decided if I was going to play these wonderful arias, I should probably know the stories they come from and begin experiencing the works as a whole.
If you are like me, you know that Rheingold is part of Wagner's Ring Cycle and that it makes use of the leitmotif. Beyond that, I am a little lost. Listening to excerpts of the opera is difficult. Getting the plot straight is a herculean effort. I'm really hoping that the costuming will help me separate the gods from the giants and Nibelung dwarfs!
As part of my preparation for Saturday's production, I am committing to doing some reading daily on Wagner and the opera. So far, the most valuable resources I have found are the program note and plot synopsis at the Metropolitan Opera's website. Do you have any suggestions for things I should take a look at before heading to the "opera" on Saturday? Please no negative comments.....I'm still gathering my courage to dive into the somewhat intimidating world of Wagner.
If you are like me, you know that Rheingold is part of Wagner's Ring Cycle and that it makes use of the leitmotif. Beyond that, I am a little lost. Listening to excerpts of the opera is difficult. Getting the plot straight is a herculean effort. I'm really hoping that the costuming will help me separate the gods from the giants and Nibelung dwarfs!
As part of my preparation for Saturday's production, I am committing to doing some reading daily on Wagner and the opera. So far, the most valuable resources I have found are the program note and plot synopsis at the Metropolitan Opera's website. Do you have any suggestions for things I should take a look at before heading to the "opera" on Saturday? Please no negative comments.....I'm still gathering my courage to dive into the somewhat intimidating world of Wagner.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The Most Important Critic
As performers, we are constantly subjected to the harsh criticism of others. Some are well-meaning, offering advice meant to improve some aspect of our career. Some criticism is sparked by jealousy and insecurity on the part of the critic. Others are simply mean-spirited comments designed to tear us apart. I have had my fair share of all three categories of criticism recently. It is easy to fall into a state of depression as a result of the comments. After all, the performance that is being reviewed is not some laboratory experiment; it is an extension of me as a person – and intricately linked to my emotions and thoughts.
Finally, I have reached the point where I can say, “Enough is enough!” If you’re not happy with my interpretation of a piece, don’t listen. Don’t like my approach or my level of commitment? Find someone else to work with. You don’t like my teaching philosophy? Find another teacher. The single critic that can have a profound impact on my music is me….all the rest is just noise.
Do I think I have all the answers? Certainly not. As a musician, however, I have to make a decision that I am committed to and then run with it. I continue to listen to the advice of others – those I trust and respect, who have shown themselves to be genuine and courteous, wanting to see me succeed. When the curtain comes down, the one who must be able to defend the choices made is only me.
So, let the criticism come. These are the questions that I’m asking myself. Am I happy? Do I like the message my music is portraying? Am I being true to myself, my goals, and my dreams? As long as I can honestly say “yes” to all of these questions, my inner critic is pleased and I’ll happily follow the road ahead wherever it leads.
Finally, I have reached the point where I can say, “Enough is enough!” If you’re not happy with my interpretation of a piece, don’t listen. Don’t like my approach or my level of commitment? Find someone else to work with. You don’t like my teaching philosophy? Find another teacher. The single critic that can have a profound impact on my music is me….all the rest is just noise.
Do I think I have all the answers? Certainly not. As a musician, however, I have to make a decision that I am committed to and then run with it. I continue to listen to the advice of others – those I trust and respect, who have shown themselves to be genuine and courteous, wanting to see me succeed. When the curtain comes down, the one who must be able to defend the choices made is only me.
So, let the criticism come. These are the questions that I’m asking myself. Am I happy? Do I like the message my music is portraying? Am I being true to myself, my goals, and my dreams? As long as I can honestly say “yes” to all of these questions, my inner critic is pleased and I’ll happily follow the road ahead wherever it leads.
Monday, September 20, 2010
The Beginning of a New Era
On Saturday evening, I attended the opening concert of the 2010-2011 season of the Memphis Symphony Orchestra. This evening was made additionally more exciting given that it also marked the beginning of Maestro Mei-Ann Chen's tenure as music director. Given my personal feelings about the city of Memphis in general, I was pleasantly surprised to leave the concert with an optimistic view of the future of classical music in Memphis.
The program featured staples of the Russian repertoire: Shostakovich's Festive Overture, Op. 96; the well-known First Piano Concerto of Tchaikovsky; and the Scheherazade Symphonic Suite, Op. 35, by Rimsky-Korsakov. The music programmed was a fitting opening for what appears to be an exciting and well-rounded season of literature for the Symphony. Dr. Chen appears to be confident in the ability of our players, made evident by the demanding repertoire scheduled. In her introductory remarks, Chen stated that it was her goal to see MSO become the finest orchestra in the region during her tenure; based upon the musical sensitivity and excellent sounds she elicited from her players on Saturday, I believe she is just the woman for the job.
The entire program was glorious, but the Rimsky-Korsakov simply took my breath away. I especially enjoyed the exquisite solo passages played by Concertmaster Susanna Perry Gilmore as well as those from Jennifer Rhodes, principal bassoon, and Scott Moore, principal trumpet. The commitment to musical excellence demonstrated by these three players in these incredibly demanding passages renewed my hope and faith in our Memphis Symphony.
Rarely will one attend a performance where they enjoy everything. Saturday evening's concert was no exception. While I applaud MSO's commitment to developing young musicians, I hope that my ears are never again assaulted by the overpowering sounds of a high school marching band playing in the aisles of the Cannon Center. Don't misunderstand -- the sound was quite good and I would have appreciated it in a setting designed for such loud decibels. In the current setting, however, the playing was physically painful. Based upon the body language of others in the hall, I am not alone in this opinion. Many audience members -- both in the balconies and on the main floor -- and members of the orchestra could be seen with their hands covering their ears in a vain attempt to muffle the sound. There must be a compromise; as a patron, I want to be supportive of the arts in our area schools, but not at the detriment of my hearing.
As far as the Orchestra itself, my only complaint was with the woodwind section. Throughout the evening, I felt as though some members of the section were struggling to play at the new level that Ms. Chen is introducing. I realize that we all have performances when we are simply not at our best. In keeping with that maxim, I will reserve my judgment until I listen further to their performances in the future. I am certain of this one thing -- Mei-Ann Chen is a gifted woman with a clear goal in mind for the Memphis Symphony Orchestra. She will bring the best out of all of her musicians, but I have a feeling she will not hesitate to make personnel changes as she deems necessary.
I am looking forward to hearing about the next concert on October 16-17, 2010. I am thrilled that my dear friend and fellow Pepperdine alumnus, Jessica Rivera, will be the featured soloist on the Barber Knoxville: Summer of 1915. On the other hand, I am upset that I will miss the performance due to another engagement that weekend on the left coast.
The program featured staples of the Russian repertoire: Shostakovich's Festive Overture, Op. 96; the well-known First Piano Concerto of Tchaikovsky; and the Scheherazade Symphonic Suite, Op. 35, by Rimsky-Korsakov. The music programmed was a fitting opening for what appears to be an exciting and well-rounded season of literature for the Symphony. Dr. Chen appears to be confident in the ability of our players, made evident by the demanding repertoire scheduled. In her introductory remarks, Chen stated that it was her goal to see MSO become the finest orchestra in the region during her tenure; based upon the musical sensitivity and excellent sounds she elicited from her players on Saturday, I believe she is just the woman for the job.
The entire program was glorious, but the Rimsky-Korsakov simply took my breath away. I especially enjoyed the exquisite solo passages played by Concertmaster Susanna Perry Gilmore as well as those from Jennifer Rhodes, principal bassoon, and Scott Moore, principal trumpet. The commitment to musical excellence demonstrated by these three players in these incredibly demanding passages renewed my hope and faith in our Memphis Symphony.
Rarely will one attend a performance where they enjoy everything. Saturday evening's concert was no exception. While I applaud MSO's commitment to developing young musicians, I hope that my ears are never again assaulted by the overpowering sounds of a high school marching band playing in the aisles of the Cannon Center. Don't misunderstand -- the sound was quite good and I would have appreciated it in a setting designed for such loud decibels. In the current setting, however, the playing was physically painful. Based upon the body language of others in the hall, I am not alone in this opinion. Many audience members -- both in the balconies and on the main floor -- and members of the orchestra could be seen with their hands covering their ears in a vain attempt to muffle the sound. There must be a compromise; as a patron, I want to be supportive of the arts in our area schools, but not at the detriment of my hearing.
As far as the Orchestra itself, my only complaint was with the woodwind section. Throughout the evening, I felt as though some members of the section were struggling to play at the new level that Ms. Chen is introducing. I realize that we all have performances when we are simply not at our best. In keeping with that maxim, I will reserve my judgment until I listen further to their performances in the future. I am certain of this one thing -- Mei-Ann Chen is a gifted woman with a clear goal in mind for the Memphis Symphony Orchestra. She will bring the best out of all of her musicians, but I have a feeling she will not hesitate to make personnel changes as she deems necessary.
I am looking forward to hearing about the next concert on October 16-17, 2010. I am thrilled that my dear friend and fellow Pepperdine alumnus, Jessica Rivera, will be the featured soloist on the Barber Knoxville: Summer of 1915. On the other hand, I am upset that I will miss the performance due to another engagement that weekend on the left coast.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Why Concerts Matter – Take 2
Yesterday, I began teaching a new semester of Music Appreciation at Mid-South Community College in West Memphis. The first day in each section of the class was filled with the thrilling excitement of reviewing the course syllabus so everyone would know what will be required of them this semester. As usual, I heard groans, grumblings, and sundry other sounds of disapproval when I explained to the students that they would be required to attend two classical concerts to fulfill the course's requirements. "But why?" was the repeated cry. Since the defense of concerts as part of the Music Appreciation curriculum has become a major point of discussion each semester, I thought it would be a good blog topic for this evening.
In order to understand more about music, a student must be exposed to it. Why this concept is so foreign to some students is beyond me! While students do not like the idea of spending time in labs for biology, math, or foreign language courses, they accept this additional time of observation as a necessary component of the course. In essence, attending concerts is a working music lab. In order to fully understand concepts presented in lectures, students must get away from the classroom and hear the theories presented in their natural habitat on stage.
Many students argue that they should be able to go to any concert they like since they are paying for the ticket. My response is simple; many of the concerts that you are invited to attend in fulfillment of the requirement have no admission charge. So the assertion that you are spending your hard-earned money on entertainment you don't enjoy is void. Furthermore, any student who claims to enjoy all their homework assignments in other classes is either a liar or delusional. I won't make that judgment, but I'll let you decide for yourself into which category I think most of them fall. This raises an additional issue in the mind of the student. Why am I required to take a course in music since I am not majoring in music? The arts were not created in a vacuum and were significantly impacted by the politics, literature, philosophy, scientific development, and religious views of the day. By examining the arts that were influenced by these fields, the student develops a deeper understanding of the historical progression of the Western World; such understanding and knowledge is an early essential step on the journey from student to scholar.
Lastly, students often ask why they are not merely permitted to listen to recordings or watch videotaped performances. While both of these Medias are valuable tools in the study of music, a few drawbacks must be considered. Firstly, recordings are often heavily edited in order to arrive at a "perfect" performance. While the pursuit of excellence is admirable, these edited performances can result in an unrealistic recording that lacks a certain amount of integrity of performance. Secondly – and in my opinion, most importantly – recorded performances can not accurately convey the vivacity and energy that an audience experiences in a live performance. While we are studying the music itself in this course, the listener's emotional response to the performance must be included in the discussion of the composition's greatness. Beethoven's Ninth Symphony would not be considered a masterpiece of the repertoire if its performance did not elicit a significant emotional response from those who have heard it over the centuries.
That's why I firmly believe in the value of concert attendance as part of the Music Appreciation curriculum. The goal is neither for a student to be able to eloquently discuss a piece's harmonic structure nor is it to convince them to become supporters of the local classical music radio station. Rather, my goal is to give the student enough tools to intelligently attend a previously unfamiliar artistic performance that allows them to experience the heightened emotional response that the greatest music of Western history can elicit.
Now it's time for me to find my next concert to attend. Hope to see you there!
Friday, August 20, 2010
The Importance of Concerts
A sad day has finally arrived. Today is the last day of my summer break. The weekend is very full and a new semester of music classes begins on Monday. While I am enjoying this final day of vacation, I am also putting the finishing touches on courses and making plans for the new year in my piano studio. One of the most surprising decisions I have made is that I plan to have a studio recital this year. This is especially surprising considering the fact that I always DETESTED these forced performances during my early years of musical training.
As I was thinking about repertoire choices for my students, I began to realize how important it is to have them perform. Public performances allow the musician to experience the joy of sharing their art with an appreciative audience and take the pursuit of the instrument out of the practice room alone. The benefits of playing in a recital extend beyond the musical development of the child as well. Performing increases the student's confidence, self-image, and creativity while diminishing their fear of appearing before a large crowd and feelings of inferiority.
Given all of these benefits, why would I hesitate to prepare my students for a studio recital? Aside from the logistical difficulties of securing a convenient location and quality instrument, I also do not look forward to dealing with the pressure often applied to students by over-bearing parents. (I'm experiencing one case of this now – before the child's first piano lesson – and it will probably be the topic of a future post.) While well-intentioned, parents can do great damage to the blooming young musician by placing undue pressure and unrealistic performance expectations on the child rather than encouraging them to enjoy the experience of making music for their friends and family. My studio is still relatively small at this point, so the possibility of comparison between pianists is great. "Why didn't you work as hard as Jenna? Did you HEAR how beautifully she played?" Such comments detract from the individual accomplishments of the student and place the focus on their inferiority in comparison to other players. It is important to remember that no two musicians develop along the same tract and at the same rate. Rather than focusing on the negative, I encourage parents to find the points of growth in their child's playing and focus on the positive.
I'm in the process of selecting repertoire for my young pianists and have discovered a wonderful resource that I want to share with you. Lynn Freeman Olson has compiled and edited First Steps in Keyboard Literature: the Easiest Classics to Moderns in Original Forms. Distributed by Alfred Publishing, this collection is a perfect addition to the piano teacher's library if you are looking for repertoire to introduce your beginning students to Classical literature. The selected pieces are rarely longer than 1 page and many of them are composed in a basic 5-finger position. Rhythms are simple – nothing more difficult than some running eighth notes – and the scores are large and clearly arranged, making them perfect for young eyes. I anticipate purchasing several copies of First Steps in Keyboard Literature this semester as my students and I begin the journey towards our first recital together.
I would love to hear about your first experiences with a studio recital. Your success stories will encourage me to keep the faith. I'll also welcome any stories about mistakes you made that I might be able to avoid. On Monday, I will examine the concert from the other side of the flood lights and explore their importance in the development of the educated non-musician. Let the sharing begin!
Friday, August 13, 2010
Finding Chamber Partners
It's the beginning of a new concert season and I am trying to line up chamber recitals for the coming year. The process is proving to be more difficult than I first anticipated. Despite the difficulties, I have high hopes that things will develop and I am certain that I will have several rewarding performance opportunities on my calendar.
The first problem I am encountering is that most of the serious musicians in my area are gainfully employed with one of the colleges in the area or they are so busy with their "regular jobs" –meaning non-musical jobs – that they simply are not interested in committing the time to preparing for a major performance. I completely understand both positions. For my colleagues at an institution of higher learning, it is much easier to schedule rehearsals with a pianist who is at the same school full time. For those employed outside of the music industry, Life often gets in the way of rehearsing and performing. After a long day in the office, there is little energy left to devote to the pursuit of public performance.
So what's a chamber pianist to do? Here are a few steps that I am currently taking personally. I don't know what the results will ultimately be, but it's what I'm trying at the moment.
- Ask! This has been the most difficult hurdle for me to overcome. I never want to be a burden to anyone and tend to be rather shy, so I wait for musicians to approach me with performance ideas. I have come to the realization that the worst thing that can happen if I propose a concert idea is that they will say they are not interested. When this happens, focus on the positive aspect: you have planted the idea that you are interested in performing with the individual. It never hurts to ask. A great collaborative opportunity is often only an invitation away!
- Perform! Pianists are very fortunate to have the opportunity to present pleasing programs as soloists, so plan to play a solo recital (or several) this season. With careful publicity and excellent musical preparation, you may attract the attention of an interested musician as a result of your solo performance. Never underestimate the power of word-of-mouth references as well. Someone in your audience may be so impressed by your recital that they simply must tell another musician how well you played and spark some interest. Make sure to include your contact information in the program!
- Persistently communicate. It's easy to talk about a chamber program in theory, but it takes persistent communication for a group of musicians to set a date and choose appropriate repertoire. Rather than waiting on the other performers – this is probably a carry-over trait from our years of viewing ourselves as the subservient "accompanist" rather than an equal partner in the ensemble – take the proverbial bull by the horns and lead your fellow musicians in the task. While there is a fine line between annoyance and persistence, I'm finding that the benefits of walking as close to that line as possible are much greater than the perceived risks of crossing it.
- Look beyond the norm. Currently, I perform with three chamber ensembles. It is very easy to get comfortable and see no other recital possibilities. Rather than relying solely on these comfortable performance situations, I am opting to look outside of the box for unexpected opportunities. There is a risk of rejection, but you may just be surprised by the positive responses you get. Consider approaching students at a local college (other than the one that knows you best) or inquire about the possibility of launching a chamber music series for a local church or synagogue.
- Consider traveling. It's always exciting to have the opportunity to perform in your hometown with another musician with which your audience is not familiar. Just think of how fun it would be to be the traveling musician! This is the perfect opportunity to combine a passion for travel with your professional pursuits. If finances are an issue (and when are they not), start by looking for performance opportunities in cities where your friends or family reside; often these situations will result in economical lodging.
- Remember the power of networking. The best way to find a chamber partner is to put yourself in situations with other musicians. Attend concerts, join the local music society, sing in the church choir, or provide accompaniment for a young artist competition. Social networking sites such as Facebook and Twitter are also a powerful resource to keep your name and face in front of those with which you want to perform.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Thoughts from the Shanghai Circus
Hello, my friends! I have missed sharing my thoughts with all of you recently, but felt I needed some time away from life in general, so I took a much needed mini-vacation at the end of last week. Now that I'm home again, I find myself trying to get back into the routine of writing.
I traveled to Branson, Missouri, a quaint little town in the Ozark Mountains that is known for its family-friendly stage shows. Since I was essentially taking a vacation from the life of a performing musician, I decided that I wanted to see a show that didn't have a strong musical theme. I chose to see the Chinese Acrobats of the New Shanghai Circus. I shouldn't have been surprised, but as soon as I set out to enjoy an evening without thinking about music, my mind was filled with the things I could take from the program and apply to my music.
On Friday evening, I was drawn into the performance by the beautiful colors, the variety of dances displayed, and the artistry of the overall performance. This program moved from the grace of the butterfly lovers soaring over the stage on their satin ribbon to masterful displays of technique using a child's toy before ending with the heart-pounding excitement of the acrobats with their see-saw. The connection to music is fairly clear. By programming recitals that include moments of sheer beauty in addition to moments of exhilarating spectacle, the audience is thoroughly engaged because of the diversity and variety of music presented.
As I left the auditorium, I continued to reflect on the Circus as a whole. I felt as though some of the routines were severely inferior to the others. This was made painfully clear because of the act's placement in the show. Following one of the most beautiful displays of dance I had ever seen came a second-rate attempt at illusion. The props did not support the intended illusion; the "magician" had little stage presence. Sadly, this act occurred half-way through the second act. Just as the ensemble should have been preparing the audience for a climatic finale, the show hit a major snag from which it never recovered.
It is essential as performers of any kind that we carefully plan our programs with the audience's emotional journey in mind. While there may be a piece that I would like to play early in the recital in order to navigate a difficult passage without fatigue beginning to set in, I must remember that the program's order is not exclusively about my comfort. Certainly I must consider what sequence will allow me to give my best performance. I must also make sure that my preferred order leads the listener from one piece to the next in order to insure that they have a satisfying musical experience.
Lastly, I noticed the audience's response. By nature, an acrobat's performance will contain amazing feats performed in rapid succession. While I do not claim to be either a dancer or acrobat, as a performer, I do understand that the most difficult routines also contain moments of simplicity to allow the audience and artist to prepare themselves for the climax to come. Friday evening's audience was what I consider to be a typical cross-section of the average American audience. It was amusing -- and actually frustrating -- to sit in the audience and listen to the "oohs" and "aahs" at the beginning of each new act that were accompanied by thunderous applause. As the routines proceeded, the spectacle became more exciting and impressive, but the audience had already lavished its highest praise and was ready for the next act to take the stage.
Most disheartening, however, was the realization that audiences enjoy thrilling moments because there is always the possibility of failure. During a wonderfully beautiful segment featuring a cast of young ladies who were balancing spinning plates high in the air while performing elegant gymnastic tricks, one member of the cast appeared to have lost focus momentarily, causing plates to noisily crash to the floor. These professionals continued to maintain their part in the scene while making every effort to discreetly clean up their mess in order to insure their colleagues continued success in the performance. While I was thrilled with their commitment to recovery, I was appalled by the audience's response.
A mature couple sat directly behind me and loudly commented on the accident. Not only did they point out the misstep and laugh, they made wagers with each other for the rest of the night regarding which performers would be the next to stumble. (Thankfully, this was the only catastrophe that we would observe on this night.) What I came to realize is that audiences are often thrilled by technical display not only because of the excitement they provide, but also because of the possibility that they may catch us in an obvious error. Am I being too pessimistic to think that a performer's mistake gives the audience an opportunity to lessen the talent of the individual and feel better about themselves? I hope I am only seeing the worst in people, but I fear that it may be all too true.
I do not intend to end this post with a negative impression. Facts are facts: planning is essential, artistry must be the centerpiece of our programs, and audiences can be mean. The good news is that I am only responsible for two of those aspects. If I plan effectively and relentlessly pursue artistic excellence in my concerts, I have done everything I can. While I want the audience to have a pleasing experience, I know that their responses -- whether positive or negative -- do not define my talent, my happiness, nor my success. That's the biggest lesson I walked away with after visiting the Shanghai Circus while on vacation.
On Friday evening, I was drawn into the performance by the beautiful colors, the variety of dances displayed, and the artistry of the overall performance. This program moved from the grace of the butterfly lovers soaring over the stage on their satin ribbon to masterful displays of technique using a child's toy before ending with the heart-pounding excitement of the acrobats with their see-saw. The connection to music is fairly clear. By programming recitals that include moments of sheer beauty in addition to moments of exhilarating spectacle, the audience is thoroughly engaged because of the diversity and variety of music presented.
It is essential as performers of any kind that we carefully plan our programs with the audience's emotional journey in mind. While there may be a piece that I would like to play early in the recital in order to navigate a difficult passage without fatigue beginning to set in, I must remember that the program's order is not exclusively about my comfort. Certainly I must consider what sequence will allow me to give my best performance. I must also make sure that my preferred order leads the listener from one piece to the next in order to insure that they have a satisfying musical experience.
Lastly, I noticed the audience's response. By nature, an acrobat's performance will contain amazing feats performed in rapid succession. While I do not claim to be either a dancer or acrobat, as a performer, I do understand that the most difficult routines also contain moments of simplicity to allow the audience and artist to prepare themselves for the climax to come. Friday evening's audience was what I consider to be a typical cross-section of the average American audience. It was amusing -- and actually frustrating -- to sit in the audience and listen to the "oohs" and "aahs" at the beginning of each new act that were accompanied by thunderous applause. As the routines proceeded, the spectacle became more exciting and impressive, but the audience had already lavished its highest praise and was ready for the next act to take the stage.
A mature couple sat directly behind me and loudly commented on the accident. Not only did they point out the misstep and laugh, they made wagers with each other for the rest of the night regarding which performers would be the next to stumble. (Thankfully, this was the only catastrophe that we would observe on this night.) What I came to realize is that audiences are often thrilled by technical display not only because of the excitement they provide, but also because of the possibility that they may catch us in an obvious error. Am I being too pessimistic to think that a performer's mistake gives the audience an opportunity to lessen the talent of the individual and feel better about themselves? I hope I am only seeing the worst in people, but I fear that it may be all too true.
I do not intend to end this post with a negative impression. Facts are facts: planning is essential, artistry must be the centerpiece of our programs, and audiences can be mean. The good news is that I am only responsible for two of those aspects. If I plan effectively and relentlessly pursue artistic excellence in my concerts, I have done everything I can. While I want the audience to have a pleasing experience, I know that their responses -- whether positive or negative -- do not define my talent, my happiness, nor my success. That's the biggest lesson I walked away with after visiting the Shanghai Circus while on vacation.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Repertoire - Woodland Sketches by Edward MacDowell
As my long time readers know, I am planning a solo recital for the fall season. It has been very nice to choose music of interest to me personally without having to bend to the demands of academia. I was settled on very little of the program in the early stages. The only thing that I knew was that I wanted to highlight American music in the second half since it is my favorite school of music.
While exploring the works of Copland and Barber, I encountered lots of familiar works, but nothing that felt right for the program. I didn't want anything overly dramatic. I wasn't looking for nationalistic music -- I've had my fill of patriotic music recently -- so I wasn't sure where I was headed.
After working through some of the rags and some small works by Ives, I recalled a couple of charming pieces from my early years of study: "To a Wild Rose" and "From Uncle Remus." Both short pieces by Edward MacDowell (1861-1908) are part of his larger work, Woodland Sketches, Op. 51. As I began to read the score, I expected to find simplistic ditties that would be of little interest; thankfully I lay aside my preconceived notions and discovered a wonderful example of American music.
Composed in 1896 in Peterborough, New Hampshire, Woodland Sketches is MacDowell's most famous composition. Peterborough, which later become the MacDowell Colony, was the site of the composer's family farm and was known for its peacefully serene woodland setting. The 10 miniature pieces of Woodland Sketches seem to take their inspiration from the natural beauty of the area.
While an example of early American music, the piano suite shows more influence of the French and German schools than of the American composers who were active at the same time. With luscious harmonic structures, the simple melodies are lovingly supported, transporting the listener to the beauty of the forest. MacDowell was not a musical lightweight, however; technical demands are made upon the soloist in several of the pieces, most notably "Will o' the Wisp" and "In Autumn."
Perhaps the closing paragraph of the Schirmer edition's introduction to the work provides the best synopsis of Woodland Sketches' place in history.
While exploring the works of Copland and Barber, I encountered lots of familiar works, but nothing that felt right for the program. I didn't want anything overly dramatic. I wasn't looking for nationalistic music -- I've had my fill of patriotic music recently -- so I wasn't sure where I was headed.
After working through some of the rags and some small works by Ives, I recalled a couple of charming pieces from my early years of study: "To a Wild Rose" and "From Uncle Remus." Both short pieces by Edward MacDowell (1861-1908) are part of his larger work, Woodland Sketches, Op. 51. As I began to read the score, I expected to find simplistic ditties that would be of little interest; thankfully I lay aside my preconceived notions and discovered a wonderful example of American music.
Composed in 1896 in Peterborough, New Hampshire, Woodland Sketches is MacDowell's most famous composition. Peterborough, which later become the MacDowell Colony, was the site of the composer's family farm and was known for its peacefully serene woodland setting. The 10 miniature pieces of Woodland Sketches seem to take their inspiration from the natural beauty of the area.
While an example of early American music, the piano suite shows more influence of the French and German schools than of the American composers who were active at the same time. With luscious harmonic structures, the simple melodies are lovingly supported, transporting the listener to the beauty of the forest. MacDowell was not a musical lightweight, however; technical demands are made upon the soloist in several of the pieces, most notably "Will o' the Wisp" and "In Autumn."
Perhaps the closing paragraph of the Schirmer edition's introduction to the work provides the best synopsis of Woodland Sketches' place in history.
A bygone era, gracious and sensitive, has been captured and retained in a series of poetic miniatures, and its piquant perfection of feeling is the result of its clearly defined circumspection. MacDowell employs a limited harmonic range and a simple melodic line, but his originality and quiet virility has given us not a precious bouquet pressed in an album, but a suite of musical water colors, delectable and tensile, a work not of spurious sentimentality but of genuine sentiment. (Woodland Sketches, Schirmer's Library of Musical Classics, Vol. 1805)
Friday, July 23, 2010
Timeless Musicals
My nieces are visiting me this weekend. The girls, ages 10 and 11, are both musically inclined. While living with me last summer, they both began studying the piano. Since that time, they have left the instrument behind and pursued other endeavors. Kristian, the oldest, plays the trumpet while Sara, her sister, is a budding vocalist with quite a nice sound.After a busy day of activity, we sat down to watch some television last evening. Kristian browsed the many music DVDs that are on top of the entertainment center that I use in my music appreciation class. One movie caught her eye, however; she and Sara wanted to watch Rodgers and Hammerstein's The Sound of Music.
I must admit that I was flabbergasted at the request. In my mind, I expected that they merely wanted to hear a couple of the more famous numbers and would quickly lose interest. To my surprise (and great pleasure), the girls quickly became enthralled in the plot and found themselves humming along with the memorable melodies.
I began to ponder the appeal of musical theater. When we first look at the form, it doesn't sound like something that should really work. How often do we find ourselves in conversation and then suddenly break into song? If you do break into song, people tend to look at you as though you are INSANE rather than as though they are falling in love with you! Even more rare is for the other person to enter into the conversation by joining you in a second verse of the song.
I think there are a few reasons that the American musical works and continues to be a thriving art form. First, the cha
racters and themes are universal. Whether the story is set in Oklahoma, Siam, or a French barricade, we all understand what it is like to be in love, misunderstood, and unsure of ourselves. We can identify with Annie's longing to be a part of a family or Oliver's search for unconditional love.
racters and themes are universal. Whether the story is set in Oklahoma, Siam, or a French barricade, we all understand what it is like to be in love, misunderstood, and unsure of ourselves. We can identify with Annie's longing to be a part of a family or Oliver's search for unconditional love. Second, music can express emotions more effectively than words alone. The example that is currently on my mind is from The Sound of Music. The lyrics of "Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good" are beautiful alone; once they are paired with a simple, yet passionate melody, however, they take on a life of their own and clearly express the growing love between Maria and Captain von Trapp. Need a few more examples? Think about "Memory" from Cats, Les Miserables' "Bring Him Home", and "He Had It Coming" from Chicago for more examples of emotionally explicit music.
Finally, the musical's power is found in its ability to transport us into the story in a way that movies cannot. While the musical uses the same ingredients as the modern movie -- specifically plot, scenery, and score -- the musical magically draws the audience deep into the action and makes them an active observer in the powerful drama. While I can't explain the "why" behind the phenomenon, I know it occurs based upon my personal experience. It is this quality that makes the American musical attractive to young and old alike, as demonstrated last night in my home.
I have had the joy of watching a classic movie musical with Kristian and Sara. Last summer, they had their first experience with a live show: the national touring production of Wicked. I think it's time to have a return visit to the theater with these girls and see if I can insure that they are bitten by the musical theater bug....it's an adventure that I hope they will continue to enjoy for the rest of their lives.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Beyond the Page
Notes, rhythms, dynamics, phrase markings, tempi......all of these are clearly communicated to the performer on the page. Even when impeccable attention is given to the many details of the score, no two accomplished musicians will present the same piece in an identical manner. This truth speaks to the importance of the musical aspects which are not on the page -- those extra-musical ideas that we bring to the stage.The importance of the unprinted musicality was made painfully obvious to my own ear recently. I am in the process of recording two CDs and have received an initial version of the Christmas album for preliminary review. As I prepared to listen, I was rather apprehensive because I recalled my emotional and physical state on that Thursday afternoon. My mind was filled with a laundry list of things that had to be completed in the closing days of the summer semester and my body was beginning to drag as a result of the many recent demands of church, home, and work. As I listened to the recording, my concerns were obviously justified; the playing was accurate for the most part, but it was flat, lifeless, and -- well, let's just cut to the chase -- quite BORING! This wasn't an issue associated with the recording technician or the quality of the instrument. The problem was that I was not in a place to communicate musically on the day of the recording.
Many musicians play their instruments with great technical facility and amaze us with their virtuoso displays. For me, such performances are thrilling in the moment, but their power is short-lived. I would rather listen to an interpretation that speaks to me at the deepest level -- one that expresses the unique ideas of the recitalist. In a perfect world, we never have to choose between artistry and technique. Sadly, I'm only human and sometimes find myself having to choose between technique and musicality-- we all do from time to time if we're willing to admit it. Without fail, I choose artistry. I choose to communicate with my audience through the music's voice rather than play merely the notes on the page. Without communication, my performance is nothing more than a metronomic regurgitation of the notes on the page that is no different from that of any second-rate pianist.
Needless to say, I'm arranging a date for another recording session. To get ready for this round of studio time, I am continuing to review notes and fix problematic passages, but more importantly, I am taking the time to rest so I am emotionally and spiritually prepared to musically communicate those messages that are most important to me.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Marketing Yourself
After the many years of school to prepare for a career in the field of music, I have recently been confronted with a necessary responsibility for which my classes and hours in the practice rooms did not prepare me. In order to have a successful career as an independent musician, I must have a marketing plan in place. I have been blessed recently by two friends who are excellent marketers who have freely given of their time, talent, and insight. By no means do I want to suggest that I am now an authority on the subject. On the contrary, I know that I am student in personal marketing; my hope is that I can share a little of what I am learning to help others like me begin thinking about their marketing plan.
In my mind, marketing is basically equated with branding your name. My goal is that whenever someone is looking for a pianist, teacher, coach, or author, that my name will come to mind. In order to have people make that connection, I have to get my name highly visible and keep my name before my target audience.
Many piano teachers would begin the process with running an ad in the classified section of the local newspaper. I've been there and done that -- with very little success. After a 5 week run of a rather sizable ad for piano lessons at the beginning of the fall, I received 9 calls. Of those calls, 3 resulted in students. To put it bluntly, newspaper advertisements alone simply do not work. There must be more.
The current source of information in our society is the Internet. As daunting a task as it may be, a credible musician must have a web presence that is both informative and attractive. My website at the moment is a work-in-progress and should be ready for public consumption in the coming weeks. Did I build it myself? No way.....I'm not that technologically savvy. Website designers are readily available in most areas and can build a functional site for you at a fairly reasonable cost. (Or you can hope to be lucky like me and have a friend volunteer to build it.)
An additional Internet marketing prospect that I never considered is the social media sites, such as Facebook and Twitter. By setting up a Facebook fan page, I now have a central location (in addition to the coming website) to inform people of my performances, alert them to exciting news and connect with other musicians from around the country. I was intimidated by the fan page design at first and relied heavily on my Internet-marketing acquaintance, Michael. I must admit that as I work with the page more and more, Facebook has made the nuts and bolts of it all fairly user-friendly. I think most people can get a basic page going without too much difficulty.
Based upon the recommendation of a dear college friend, I began blogging. My first foray into the blogosphere was personal in nature. We quickly realized that writing was something I enjoyed and that I was fairly good at it. As conversations moved into my professional life, it became clear that I could also have a lot to say about music and its many avenues. That's when Collaborations was born. By simply writing quality posts on a regular basis, I am creating another web presence for myself and establishing myself as an authority in the field of music. With some slight edits and development, many of the blog posts I have already written have been submitted for publication -- yet another branch of the marketing plan.
Lastly, I'm working to make myself more visually recognizable in my community. Posters, programs, flyers, and newspaper reviews now all feature the same headshot in order to provide continuity to my marketing plan. Charitable donations of piano lessons and private performances are being made to arts organizations for upcoming auction fundraisers. I'm finding every opportunity to be an active participant in the arts scene of the community -- that means I'm attending shows and concerts of all types, volunteering in children's theater companies, and providing free lectures for parents on the benefits of arts education in the the lives of their children.
My marketing plan is definitely evolving and growing daily. It takes a serious commitment to keep everything going, but I'm certain that I'll begin to see the fruits of the labor sooner rather than later.
What is the one tool in your marketing plan that is unique to you? How has it been effective?
In my mind, marketing is basically equated with branding your name. My goal is that whenever someone is looking for a pianist, teacher, coach, or author, that my name will come to mind. In order to have people make that connection, I have to get my name highly visible and keep my name before my target audience.
Many piano teachers would begin the process with running an ad in the classified section of the local newspaper. I've been there and done that -- with very little success. After a 5 week run of a rather sizable ad for piano lessons at the beginning of the fall, I received 9 calls. Of those calls, 3 resulted in students. To put it bluntly, newspaper advertisements alone simply do not work. There must be more.
The current source of information in our society is the Internet. As daunting a task as it may be, a credible musician must have a web presence that is both informative and attractive. My website at the moment is a work-in-progress and should be ready for public consumption in the coming weeks. Did I build it myself? No way.....I'm not that technologically savvy. Website designers are readily available in most areas and can build a functional site for you at a fairly reasonable cost. (Or you can hope to be lucky like me and have a friend volunteer to build it.)
An additional Internet marketing prospect that I never considered is the social media sites, such as Facebook and Twitter. By setting up a Facebook fan page, I now have a central location (in addition to the coming website) to inform people of my performances, alert them to exciting news and connect with other musicians from around the country. I was intimidated by the fan page design at first and relied heavily on my Internet-marketing acquaintance, Michael. I must admit that as I work with the page more and more, Facebook has made the nuts and bolts of it all fairly user-friendly. I think most people can get a basic page going without too much difficulty.
Based upon the recommendation of a dear college friend, I began blogging. My first foray into the blogosphere was personal in nature. We quickly realized that writing was something I enjoyed and that I was fairly good at it. As conversations moved into my professional life, it became clear that I could also have a lot to say about music and its many avenues. That's when Collaborations was born. By simply writing quality posts on a regular basis, I am creating another web presence for myself and establishing myself as an authority in the field of music. With some slight edits and development, many of the blog posts I have already written have been submitted for publication -- yet another branch of the marketing plan.
Lastly, I'm working to make myself more visually recognizable in my community. Posters, programs, flyers, and newspaper reviews now all feature the same headshot in order to provide continuity to my marketing plan. Charitable donations of piano lessons and private performances are being made to arts organizations for upcoming auction fundraisers. I'm finding every opportunity to be an active participant in the arts scene of the community -- that means I'm attending shows and concerts of all types, volunteering in children's theater companies, and providing free lectures for parents on the benefits of arts education in the the lives of their children.
My marketing plan is definitely evolving and growing daily. It takes a serious commitment to keep everything going, but I'm certain that I'll begin to see the fruits of the labor sooner rather than later.
What is the one tool in your marketing plan that is unique to you? How has it been effective?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Christmas in July
Silent Night.....Joy to the World......Carol of the Bells.....These are just a few of the pieces that are on my practice list at the moment. I find it so ironic that I'm playing Winter Wonderland in shorts with the air conditioning set at a cool 72. Why you may ask? Next week, I head into the recording studio to begin work on a Christmas CD.
Honestly, since I only play these arrangements for such a short period of time each year, I tend to forget that there are actually some tricky passages in the arrangements. It's surprisingly nice to have the luxury to actually work out some of the fingerings and rhythms that I just glossed over last Christmas.
As though that wasn't enough, it's also time to begin listening to Christmas musicals for the church and begin making selections about what we'll be doing this year. Rehearsals will start in October for the children, so I need to get a selection made this month in order to have two months of planning with my production team prior to rehearsals. I'm beginning to wonder how many different arrangements of Away in a Manger there can be for children's choir; sadly, I'm not running into very many of them that I actually like!
I'm ready to put up the tree and hang the garland as all this Christmas music is getting me in the mood for the holiday season. If only the summer weather would cooperate! Anyone want to join me for some egg nog and Christmas cookies?
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Recital Planning
Since summer tends to be a period of less performance opportunities for me, I have traditionally used this season as a time to plan recital programs for the upcoming season. Currently, I am selecting repertoire for a solo recital to be performed this fall in the Memphis area. This will be my first solo recital in nearly 6 years, but I am looking forward to it. As I was thinking through possible repertoire, I began to consider the various methods of building a program that I have used over the years as well as those that have been intriguing to me in their possibilities.
The standard method of putting together a classical recital is to present material in chronological order, making sure that each historical period is represented. This academic approach has a definite advantage. Since compositional techniques became more complex throughout the ages, such a method creates a diverse program that will keep the audience's attention. On the flip side, however, the recital can feel like an academic exercise in its rigidity. Additionally, performing works from every historical period on a single program can create difficult transitions and extremely differing technical requirements for the pianist.
Another common approach to planning a recital is the thematic approach. These recitals often come with catchy titles that put the audience at ease and make the performance a bit more accessible by a general audience. Some titles that I have performed or that I am currently developing with chamber ensembles include "Bodacious Bombshells" (works by female composers whose last names begin with the letter B); "Mixed Up Composers" (compositions that SHOULD have been written for the flute); and "It's Howdy Doody Time" (pieces for the child in all of us). Such programs can become very annoying if planned in close proximity to one another. My experience has been that many of these recitals require lots of research to find the music and often result in the selection of inferior repertoire that fits the prescribed parameters. While I DO enjoy thematic recitals, I recommend planning these over time in order to find the best repertoire rather than trying to force music to fit the theme.
The final two methods are similar to each other and ones that I have not yet used personally. The first is the common approach of presenting an entire program composed by a single composer. The difficulties arise from two contrasting scenarios -- either there is simply too much music to choose from or there's not enough. The other (and the one that I find most interesting) is based upon a single date. How interesting it would be to prepare a concert of works that were all published in the year 1901 (the one I'm currently exploring). This method allows for the continuity of period, but opens lots of variety by traveling around the world musically. I chose this year because of my love for Ravel's Jeux d'eau. Currently, I am examining works published in that year in the United States, England, and Germany. As my search continues, I'll expand to other countries.
How about you? What's your favorite method for planning a recital? Is there an approach you always thought would be interesting to try, but never had the opportunity? I'd love to hear about it!
The standard method of putting together a classical recital is to present material in chronological order, making sure that each historical period is represented. This academic approach has a definite advantage. Since compositional techniques became more complex throughout the ages, such a method creates a diverse program that will keep the audience's attention. On the flip side, however, the recital can feel like an academic exercise in its rigidity. Additionally, performing works from every historical period on a single program can create difficult transitions and extremely differing technical requirements for the pianist.
Another common approach to planning a recital is the thematic approach. These recitals often come with catchy titles that put the audience at ease and make the performance a bit more accessible by a general audience. Some titles that I have performed or that I am currently developing with chamber ensembles include "Bodacious Bombshells" (works by female composers whose last names begin with the letter B); "Mixed Up Composers" (compositions that SHOULD have been written for the flute); and "It's Howdy Doody Time" (pieces for the child in all of us). Such programs can become very annoying if planned in close proximity to one another. My experience has been that many of these recitals require lots of research to find the music and often result in the selection of inferior repertoire that fits the prescribed parameters. While I DO enjoy thematic recitals, I recommend planning these over time in order to find the best repertoire rather than trying to force music to fit the theme.
The final two methods are similar to each other and ones that I have not yet used personally. The first is the common approach of presenting an entire program composed by a single composer. The difficulties arise from two contrasting scenarios -- either there is simply too much music to choose from or there's not enough. The other (and the one that I find most interesting) is based upon a single date. How interesting it would be to prepare a concert of works that were all published in the year 1901 (the one I'm currently exploring). This method allows for the continuity of period, but opens lots of variety by traveling around the world musically. I chose this year because of my love for Ravel's Jeux d'eau. Currently, I am examining works published in that year in the United States, England, and Germany. As my search continues, I'll expand to other countries.
How about you? What's your favorite method for planning a recital? Is there an approach you always thought would be interesting to try, but never had the opportunity? I'd love to hear about it!
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Balance Issues
Last night, the 3-D Trio presented our Patriotic program at Buntyn Presbyterian Church. The recital went well for the most part and everyone seemed to have enjoyed the music. The only frustration on the part of the performers were all related to issues of balance.
Buntyn is a beautiful facility with high ceilings and lots of exposed wood. The acoustics are wonderful. There is one major problem for me though: the piano (a 5'4" baby grand) is not located on the stage, but sits on the floor at the front of the congregation. My colleagues opt to stand on the stage above me while I'm on the floor. I understand the desire to utilize the stage as is, but also know that the arrangement is making balance issues extremely difficult.
In order to allow the flute to take full advantage of the piano's resonance, we always play with the lid on short stick (at least). In an effort to lessen the overpowering tendencies of the piano in this arrangement, we have turned the piano around so the sound is shooting upstage; the result is that there is a nice balance in the performing area, but that the sound is bouncing off the back wall and giving the audience a double dose of piano! Our dilemma was further compounded last night by the selection of repertoire that was not in an optimum range for our soprano, requiring that she use a microphone for the entire recital. Throw in a lot of piccolo (an instrument that I HATE trying to accompany because of the inherent balance issues) and you are beginning to understand my frustrations.
The obvious solution to my mind is to use a traditional standing arrangement. However, if my colleagues are not willing to make this concession, what options do you see other than playing the entire program una corda? This space is baffling to me at the moment. I'll try to post a video in the near future from this space so you can see and hear the issues.
What have been your worst arrangement issues that caused you balance issues? How did you combat it? Once I come up with a solution for this performance space that we will continue to use (since it is free and readily available to our ensemble upon request), I'll let you know what we're doing and how it's working for us.
Now I'm going to try to catch up on some rest and reading.....my arms and shoulders are killing me at the moment!
Kennith
Buntyn is a beautiful facility with high ceilings and lots of exposed wood. The acoustics are wonderful. There is one major problem for me though: the piano (a 5'4" baby grand) is not located on the stage, but sits on the floor at the front of the congregation. My colleagues opt to stand on the stage above me while I'm on the floor. I understand the desire to utilize the stage as is, but also know that the arrangement is making balance issues extremely difficult.
In order to allow the flute to take full advantage of the piano's resonance, we always play with the lid on short stick (at least). In an effort to lessen the overpowering tendencies of the piano in this arrangement, we have turned the piano around so the sound is shooting upstage; the result is that there is a nice balance in the performing area, but that the sound is bouncing off the back wall and giving the audience a double dose of piano! Our dilemma was further compounded last night by the selection of repertoire that was not in an optimum range for our soprano, requiring that she use a microphone for the entire recital. Throw in a lot of piccolo (an instrument that I HATE trying to accompany because of the inherent balance issues) and you are beginning to understand my frustrations.
The obvious solution to my mind is to use a traditional standing arrangement. However, if my colleagues are not willing to make this concession, what options do you see other than playing the entire program una corda? This space is baffling to me at the moment. I'll try to post a video in the near future from this space so you can see and hear the issues.
What have been your worst arrangement issues that caused you balance issues? How did you combat it? Once I come up with a solution for this performance space that we will continue to use (since it is free and readily available to our ensemble upon request), I'll let you know what we're doing and how it's working for us.
Now I'm going to try to catch up on some rest and reading.....my arms and shoulders are killing me at the moment!
Kennith
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Honesty to the Score
My chamber ensemble rehearsed yesterday for an upcoming patriotic recital. As we worked through the repertoire, I was asked to make some changes to the arrangements. While not an uncommon request, it got me thinking. How free are we to make changes to a composer's work? Just how honest does a musician need to be to the score?
As pianists we run into orchestral reductions on a regular basis. Generally, these scores result in one of two questions. The question we HOPE to ask is this: What voices do I double in order to flesh out the score? The dreaded question (and sadly, the more common one in my experience) is what notes am I leaving out in order to make the piece playable. Both of these modifications to scores are appropriate since the score was not originally conceived for the solo piano. The goal of any good reduction is to make the piano sound orchestral. Often this requires doublings--especially in the left hand. On the flip side, some publishers fail to consider the differences between study scores and performance scores. They simply put every single note onto a single staff; it sometimes feels as though the reduction should come with a note attached that reads "Good Luck!"
For this patriotic concert, we are performing several traditional songs that are set in moderate keys for the average singer. My vocalist is a coloratura soprano! The low settings have been causing lots of difficulty in programming and making sure she sounds her best. The request has been made to transpose the songs a third higher. Fortunately the parts are not difficult, so it's not an outlandish request. Intellectually, I don't have a problem transposing songs to better keys. The songs of many composers - Brahms, Wolf, and Schubert, for instance - have been published in various keys for differing vocal ranges. While the original key of the song may be more comfortable for the pianist, the transposed keys are also valid since the song's structure remains in tact. The principle is the same in my situation.
So far, everything seems to be kosher and unoffensive to my traditionalist mentality. There is one final request that has been made. The art song "Nancy Hanks" by Katherine Davis is clearly set in the key of E minor for the majority of the piece. At the final cadential point, the composer indicates a resolution to the parallel major - E major - followed by a series of melodic fifths in the keyboard. The effect is one of hope and honor. The open fifths provide some ambiguity as to the final tonal area of the piece; without the presence of the third, we cannot state with certainty that the work ends in major or minor. Personally, I think this final cadence serves as the climax of the entire song.
Herein lies the dilemma. I have been instructed to change the major chord to the minor. After reading Geraldine Boyer-Cussak's blog entitled "Who is Your Customer?" I am realizing that at times it becomes necessary to put your musical instincts aside in order to appease the customer. So, this weekend I will play the minor chord. I may be cringing, but I'll play it.
But the question of musical ethics still remains. Once we establish that the published score is reliable, do we have the right to make changes to the harmonic structure of a composer's work in order to suit our personal tastes and preferences? I feel as though it is the responsibility of the artist to perform the selected music as closely as possible to the composer's notated intentions. Once we begin to alter the composition itself, we cross the line from "interpreter" to "composer."
This is not the first time I've encountered this issue (not even in relation to this piece!) and it certainly will not be the last. It's just one of those things that makes you ask "What do I really think about this?" I'd love to hear your opinions about the performer's responsibility to remaining honest to the score.
Time to go back to my transposition work now!
As pianists we run into orchestral reductions on a regular basis. Generally, these scores result in one of two questions. The question we HOPE to ask is this: What voices do I double in order to flesh out the score? The dreaded question (and sadly, the more common one in my experience) is what notes am I leaving out in order to make the piece playable. Both of these modifications to scores are appropriate since the score was not originally conceived for the solo piano. The goal of any good reduction is to make the piano sound orchestral. Often this requires doublings--especially in the left hand. On the flip side, some publishers fail to consider the differences between study scores and performance scores. They simply put every single note onto a single staff; it sometimes feels as though the reduction should come with a note attached that reads "Good Luck!"
For this patriotic concert, we are performing several traditional songs that are set in moderate keys for the average singer. My vocalist is a coloratura soprano! The low settings have been causing lots of difficulty in programming and making sure she sounds her best. The request has been made to transpose the songs a third higher. Fortunately the parts are not difficult, so it's not an outlandish request. Intellectually, I don't have a problem transposing songs to better keys. The songs of many composers - Brahms, Wolf, and Schubert, for instance - have been published in various keys for differing vocal ranges. While the original key of the song may be more comfortable for the pianist, the transposed keys are also valid since the song's structure remains in tact. The principle is the same in my situation.
So far, everything seems to be kosher and unoffensive to my traditionalist mentality. There is one final request that has been made. The art song "Nancy Hanks" by Katherine Davis is clearly set in the key of E minor for the majority of the piece. At the final cadential point, the composer indicates a resolution to the parallel major - E major - followed by a series of melodic fifths in the keyboard. The effect is one of hope and honor. The open fifths provide some ambiguity as to the final tonal area of the piece; without the presence of the third, we cannot state with certainty that the work ends in major or minor. Personally, I think this final cadence serves as the climax of the entire song.
Herein lies the dilemma. I have been instructed to change the major chord to the minor. After reading Geraldine Boyer-Cussak's blog entitled "Who is Your Customer?" I am realizing that at times it becomes necessary to put your musical instincts aside in order to appease the customer. So, this weekend I will play the minor chord. I may be cringing, but I'll play it.
But the question of musical ethics still remains. Once we establish that the published score is reliable, do we have the right to make changes to the harmonic structure of a composer's work in order to suit our personal tastes and preferences? I feel as though it is the responsibility of the artist to perform the selected music as closely as possible to the composer's notated intentions. Once we begin to alter the composition itself, we cross the line from "interpreter" to "composer."
This is not the first time I've encountered this issue (not even in relation to this piece!) and it certainly will not be the last. It's just one of those things that makes you ask "What do I really think about this?" I'd love to hear your opinions about the performer's responsibility to remaining honest to the score.
Time to go back to my transposition work now!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Where Did All The Time Go?
Late last month, Chris Foley asked his readers at The Collaborative Pianist Blog which month was the busiest of the year for them. As I thought through my year, I answered that April was the most intense month for me. That time normally involves Easter activities and lots of recitals to play. Don't forget about preparations for studio recitals and wrapping things up for the end of the spring semester.
Now I am beginning to think that I was terribly mistaken. My life does not feel as though it belongs to me during the month of June. A few private lessons are continuing through the summer and I am teaching class daily at the college. A chamber recital is on the agenda for early July, so there are lots of notes to learn and rehearsals to attend. Somehow, my responsibilities at the church have snuck up on me. Next Monday, I will begin directing a two-week music camp for students ages 5-12 that will culminate in two performances of a children's musical. This annual event is always a lot of fun, but I am always very thankful when it comes to an end so I can finally get some rest. I have to remember that the weekend in the middle of it all (June 19-20) will be filled with Father's Day activities. I'm getting tired just thinking about it all!
Practice time is a prized commodity right now. What am I saying? Sitting still for a few minutes to catch my breath is priceless! For the next few weeks, I doubt you hear much from me here at Collaborations, but be assured I have not forgotten about you and will be back to a regular writing schedule in a couple of weeks.
Now I am beginning to think that I was terribly mistaken. My life does not feel as though it belongs to me during the month of June. A few private lessons are continuing through the summer and I am teaching class daily at the college. A chamber recital is on the agenda for early July, so there are lots of notes to learn and rehearsals to attend. Somehow, my responsibilities at the church have snuck up on me. Next Monday, I will begin directing a two-week music camp for students ages 5-12 that will culminate in two performances of a children's musical. This annual event is always a lot of fun, but I am always very thankful when it comes to an end so I can finally get some rest. I have to remember that the weekend in the middle of it all (June 19-20) will be filled with Father's Day activities. I'm getting tired just thinking about it all!
Practice time is a prized commodity right now. What am I saying? Sitting still for a few minutes to catch my breath is priceless! For the next few weeks, I doubt you hear much from me here at Collaborations, but be assured I have not forgotten about you and will be back to a regular writing schedule in a couple of weeks.
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