Going to work

Just an amusing aside, for all of my friends who ask, "What does Mick do?"

He now has a part-time job! Although he goes to gigs all the time, for all his years, it's somehow different seeing him pull out of the garage going to a "job".  What is it?  KSJE Roving with the Arts program.  Part-time, so his shows will air twice a week.

Congratulations!

Fear and trepidation!.

a musical post

Ok. Most performers have some sort of fear and trepidation when they get close to performance dates, however, I am definitely calloused by years of performance.  I play every week for church, lately for two churches.  I'm used to recovering from hitches, and often under-prepared.  I accompany at house concerts, and orchestra concerts (just since the beginning of May) without a bat of the eye.

However, to stretch myself with an hour of music, to be performed before a totally new audience... Solos, and accompaniments with my hubby, the trumpet player...Well, it's time for a beta-blocker!  

I'm not ashamed to admit that a little pill is a comfort, whether it really keeps me from shaking or not. I know that the hour(s) just before I seat myself and begin to play are the hardest with which to cope. My mind runs wild, I'm full of insecurities, doubts, and my heart races, my lower digestive tract can act up unpleasantly, and... That little pill makes much of that go away.

What? Should I swig a few beers?  Witnessed that...not for me.

Before the pill, and before regular weekly performances, my legs would shake so I couldn't keep them on the pedals.  That's NEVER good... So, when special events of the challenging type arise, I take a pill within a half hour before, and it all seems to mellow out.

That's how it went down last Sunday.  Not a much publicized concert, and on Mother's Day afternoon, so not a large audience, but they were all happy, and very nice with their comments.

I felt pretty good about it. I had fun, and I was relaxed.  However, something happened that hasn't ever happened to me, and will probably happen again.  A key stuck. Yep, a high screaming A flat continued to sound until it decided to release itself.  It happened twice, and about the time I thought I should do something  about it, it stopped.  Both times the trumpets were playing, and it didn't seem too obvious.  Of course, it caused fear and trepidation for me... And then, it happened while I was playing a solo.  Hubby was sitting next to me, turning pages, and the thought occurred to me, "Why didn't he fix it?"  Later he said he didn't notice, even though I felt compelled to try to smack it back into an "up" position while furiously playing two manuals and pedals.  It didn't work, and just when I entertained the thought that I was going to have to stop playing, apologize, and...well, no plans made after that...it released, and somehow, I avoided that key for the rest of the concert.

My next concert is in two days, on another instrument, and hopefully that will not happen again.  With certainty, something else will arise! Performance=F&T=take a chill pill!

Performance Venue

Lucky me!  I have flute friends!  Two of them ganged up on me, and I had two performances with them last week.

ME and I played a Bach Sonata for flute and harpsichord, and with the luck of our Italian/Irish heritages, we were allowed to use this very pretty instrument which found its way from Cleveland to Durango.

I'll just let you admire it...

And when I was finished with "that" Bach, I played a "Little Prelude and Fugue" on this lovely instrument:

Aren't I lucky to have flute friends, AND venues like this one?

This was taken a few days before the concert, and before the harpsichord was moved to center stage.

Thanks, ME and Scott, for asking me to play.

Event:  Durango Bach Festival

Those Ivories. Non-knitting Post

Warning:  This post has no pretty pictures of yarn, and is totally self-involved b.s. reflections.

Though I rarely mention it, ivories (piano keys) and ebonies (organ keys) are as intertwined in my life as eating, sleeping, knitting, relationships, and bodily functions.
Does one retire from such activity?   I suppose one does if something physical happens to prevent the movement of fingers. But now I'm not sure.  In the past few years, I've noticed my little fingers, and they seem to be my main topic when I address playing issues.  I feel like they don't want to take part anymore.  But, I drag them along, and recruit their services.  Just like any repetitive activity, I don't think too much about the mechanics of it, just the surprise factor when something doesn't turn out as expected.
What have I learned in 60 years?  From sitting on a bench in front of 88 keys, I've learned to relate a diagram (printed music) to my movements on the keyboard.  And out comes sounds that are pleasant. Mostly!  That's where the little fingers literally fall short occasionally, and the sounds are not there or (cringe) unpleasant.   I've learned to expect more from my fingers, but nothing is going to bring them back to their former selves.  They are crooked, and one is too flexible, and the other isn't flexible. Even so, the change has been gradual, and my mind and hands have adapted.
For those of you in a similar situation, my only recommendation is focus... Dang, the "f" word again. Focus with help...in the form of the ultimate non-technical tool:  A pencil. Really!  I've found my best weapon against embarrassing goofs is a pencil.  If something goes wrong, and I can locate it, a little/big/dark circle around the problem is my best defense.  There is so much on each page, and my eye needs just that mark to bring focus to something that I need to focus on.
Sounds simple doesn't it?  It is, along with thousands of hours...
So here comes the computation...  Sixty years times 52 weeks = 3120 weeks. Say I have played an average of 2 hours a week over my lifetime... I recall weeks of twenty hours as an accompanist, and weeks of none, so I'm being conservative... And giving myself 6,240 lifetime hours.
There have been services this weekend, shared by ivories and ebonies, and the music goes on. Apprehension always precedes these events...I am my own worst enemy until I start playing!  If my fingers are actively participating, as happens in the days/hours before performance, I feel very insecure.
I wonder what I would be reflecting on if my mommy hadn't decided to take me to piano lessons in September 1954?

Drained!

Aging!!  Yikes...who wants to think about that?
I felt it Friday evening... I remember when I could play an hour concert, with few minutes of break, running on adrenalin and being hyper as a deer afterwards.  It takes focus!  Now it takes focus, rest, and a great pair of glasses!
After the first four choral pieces of everything from gospel/praise to Romantic (Fauré), I cranked up the pipe organ, shaking a few people out of their seats with the first chord (fff) especially the choir which sits right in front of the organ pipes. Sorry for the scare...
About 1/3 into the Bach Prelude and Fugue I thought to myself, "What are you doing?" but not for long.  The focus came back and everyone was happy with the results.  I got a lot of compliments, hugs and recounts of emotions from the enormous wall of sound you can get from the Bach/pipe organ combination.
I must admit that it wasn't too long, and therefore it suits my abilities and most people's listening pleasures.  If you want to hear it (again) you can certainly find it on youtube:  J. S. Bach's Little Prelude and Fugue in G major.
As I sat down afterwards to hear the brass, I was still a-buzz, but when I stepped up to the piano for the final 3 choral pieces...  I was drained.  I was aware of it through the first half of the first piece, but then I turned into a focus machine.
I wonder if that has any carry-over into the knitting world?  Say, focus on details, stitch patterns...?

And Music Plays On

Church music, underestimated? I practice, maybe not hours and hours, but I don't go in cold!
How little do some people know about church music? A year ago, I was asked what I do (in general) and when I spoke of being a church organist, the other person was NOT impressed. I didn't mean to impress him however he said something hinting that it was the same music over and over again. I realized that meant liturgy was repeated. I pointed out that I play three or four tunes from 3 books of 1,600+ hymns/songs, plus incidental music of my own choosing, but rarely repeated more than twice a year.
What happens when the fingers fail you?  A few weeks ago I was practicing for something, maybe a choral anthem, and I kept missing the same note.  OK, so there were several hundred other notes that I was playing, but it became evident that I wasn't getting this one thing.  I had focused on it, repeated it slowly, and still when I went through that passage, I was missing the same *** key!  It was annoying, and then I realized that my --- (I swear it) my fingers have changed.  When did it happen?  Mostly, it's my little fingers.  Over the past few years, my little fingers have been giving out.  My previous posts have attested to their plights, but just at this one moment it meant that my left little finger wasn't able to bend to get to that above mentioned *** key.  Luckily, just identifying that funny little unbendable finger was enough.  I didn't miss it again.  Curious.
I thought I was losing it! But since then I've accompanied regularly and irregularly, meaning the odd summer concert.  It was held as part of the city's Summer Terrace Concerts at the Museum.  Luckily, we cranky classical musicians insisted on having it inside, and without the distractions of nature (insects, wind, weather, dust, and nothing to reverberate) it went very well.  The audience was a bit miffed at first, with folding chairs and picnic lunches in tow, but they were very appreciative!  (Even before it was over... You never know if the sustained applause at the end is relief that the audience can stand up and move around!)
Here's a picture from one of the museum displays.  If you are ever in Farmington New Mexico...stop by!

Music

It's late, my eyes want to close, but I thought I'd write a few thoughts.
Earlier this evening we celebrated Vivaldi's and Haydn's birthdays with a concert of their music, complete with cupcakes. I played harpsichord. What's that?

In a mirrored room

It looks like a fragile piano. It's smaller, fewer keys, fewer strings, and less sound. It's best known for the sound. At first you may think you can't hear it, but it's like someone banging on a can in the other room. It has a quality that puts a little edge on the sound.
It's fragile all right! The mechanism seems ok one moment and the next it doesn't work. I have an emergency pack of tools: an emery board, an exacto knife, glue, a screwdriver, needle nose pliers, a block of wood. And a tuner. Most of the time I can make it work. And most of the time people in the audience feel they've been treated to something special. It makes my teeth-gnashing and hair-pulling of the weeks leading up to a performance all worth it.
Even though it isn't a loud sound, I'm very aware of it. It's true of any performance where you have an audience listening; wrong notes are not on the program. I'm quite sure that this instrument was played by very brave individuals and I count myself as one of them. Be careful not to rest your fingers too near the keys, or you'll hear a ping (a note sounding).  Unlike the piano, which you have to hit or strike to get a sound, it's as if it has energy coiled up inside, waiting to be touched and released. And because I'm not as diligent as a professional player/builder/tuner/repairman, one note might play with a light touch, and another might need a little force.
Tonight, in the slowest, softest passage I was encouraged to, even ordered to, play more.*  Nothing concrete, like written notes, or anything I had heard before, but... Embellish.
Here's what happens: We play, that is 2 violins, viola, cello, 2 trumpets and harpsichord (Vivaldi Concerto for two trumpets), fast, loud, soft, lots of notes, then we stop for a brief pause (second movement marked Largo) and the strings and I continue with slow, soft repeated notes and then a chord that is held (fermata) for an undetermined amount of time. During this hold, I am supposed to play something original, (this is the embellishment part) a little up and down, and around and eventually, when I feel it's enough, the other players are supposed to sense this and we all stop (rest) and then we do it again with different chords... Three times.

It's special to play something pretty that just comes out of the fingers and the moment. Waiting to play something, before the actual moment is pretty exciting, too! (Read here nervous tension/adrenalin.)  I wonder to myself: Will it happen the way I have in my mind? It's so spontaneous that I've never played the same thing twice! And there are the string players holding notes on the fermatas, waiting for me to finish so we can move on. Music making can be a voyage into the unknown. Once played, the notes are out there in the universe, never to be retrieved. It's now that I wish we could do it a hundred more times!

*During rehearsal, the evening before the concert, I was asked to embellish more, so they really had no idea what I would come up with, and neither did I!  Improv...

Two against three

What about Mozart?  I bet many of you heard about Mozart towards the end of January.  Anyone?  January 27 seems to be the time Mozart is most performed, because it marks his birthday.  My hubs has gotten together with two other musicians and proclaimed there would be "Celebration Concerts" and that the first one would be last weekend.  Two concerts of all Mozart.
I haven't played Mozart since... well, a VERY long time.  I always liked Mozart.  Something rather simplistic and lovely to listen to, so I was delighted to have a marimba playing friend suggest we play a Sonata.  We can make it work, I thought.
When I read through the piece, I was delighted again that it wouldn't take the tar out of me to get it ready, and (AND, a big and) it was ALL two against three, when it wasn't three against four.  As the days went by, I began to regret I was playing with someone (a percussionist) who had strong opinions about anyone other than a percussionist playing triplets.  Turns out, he saved me!  I think he made me a better player, keeping it steady himself, and imposing his impeccable rhythmic talent on me.  Truth be told, we didn't practice together... No, the one time we could find the time and place, the piano was SO out of tune, it sounded like we were playing it two very unrelated keys.  It was so painful that I couldn't bear more than twice through (and I couldn't listen).  The morning of the concert, we had the opportunity to really play and enjoy the piece.  It was very nice, and I gave a little background to the audience before we started.

As we all know now (from previous speakers) that Mozart was exploited by his father for his talent.  The piece we are going to perform is Kochel 14 which means he was really little.  In fact, he was eight years old when this was written.  Mozart had been hauled off to London to perform for royalty, and hopefully follow in his countryman's footsteps, Handel, but he really didn't catch on.  Papa Mozart became ill and didn't want little Wolfgang banging on instruments, so he had to be content to secretly write some music that he hoped wouldn't be seen by papa.  This meant that there were several pieces that papa never got to correct.  They were eventually discovered and published in the early 1900's, and they weren't... so.... nice.  But this piece we are playing is from a set of Sonatas that he wrote with papa's help, for harpsichord and violin.  (I look around at the marimba and piano.)  Well, we do what we can.  Doug will explain. (Doug takes over and gives a little info on the marimba.)

What I didn't say is that I think papa had just given little Wolfgang a lesson in playing two against three, and instructed him to write a piece that would use it.  What am I talking about?
Most music has a feel for "two", like walking:  One, two, one, two.    Imagine that we had three feet;  Walking would sound like, One, two, three, one two three.  Now imagine a couple walking along with arms around each others waists, and one of them is two legged, and the other is three legged.  They want to stay together, so they walk so that their left legs hit the pavement at the same time.  Can you imagine how crazy that would look (besides the obvious three legs) with the three legged person trying to keep up with the two?  That's what musicians do when composers want that feel of three but write a melody in two, or vice versa.  That's what pianists do, sometimes with one hand playing in threes and the other in two, and sometimes three and two in the same hand.  Think of little Mozart:  Eight years old.
Here's the music:  Link to Mozart Sonata.  I couldn't get it to be pictured here.
Marimba:  A beautiful sound.



Concert Mozart
1756. London 1764. Sonata for harpsichord and violin k.14

Sent from my iPad

Geezers and Wind

I guess they kinda go together!
Very windy afternoon for Riverfest.  Something for everyone, but I went to listen to the Trumpet Geezers.  My 'geezer' is the leader and since there was only "some" wind which kept us from cooking in the high 80's, it was a relaxing afternoon for me.
Activities for everyone of all ages.
It was highly improbable that I could snap a shot without by-standers...

 The River Walk was busy.

 And the Geezers select another tune.

The Bridge

 The Geezermeister:

 The Geezer-fiefs:

 The Honorary Geezerette:

Monday Musical Musings 2

Where am I?  Somewhere in the Caribbean, and far from ivories/ebonies and the world of church music, and unlimited internet.
Therefore, here's a late report about last week's musical offerings:
My background information here.

This Sunday was preceded by a 24 hour retreat for the women's ensemble.  It really paid off.  All 6 of them were really on, and confident with their singing.  Lots of compliments.  And the Brass Ensemble played lots of wonderful pieces all arranged by the trombone player.  


The Music:
Hymns

#1  Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.  Three verses and refrains, accompanied by the brass.  A surprise V7 chord lead up a half step for the final verse.  I often do this because I can.  Instead of going into a completely new key, I take the music and imagine the two key signatures which would work.  Today's was Ab and A.  Holding the Ab in the melody, I step the bass line down (Ab Gb E) and the melody Ab becomes G# or the leading tone to the key of A.  The brass followed right along and came in on the final refrain.  They're GOOD!

#2  Now the Green Blade Riseth.  French Carol, and often heard at Christmas time. Nice and lively tune, even though it's minor.

#3  It is Well with My Soul.  I didn't have much to contribute to be creative with this one, except on the final refrain I held the long melody notes while the brass played the echoing chords by themselves.

Incidental Music

Pre-Service, Prelude, Offertory and Postlude were played by the brass.  They are 2 trumpets, trombone, euphonium and tuba, and they practice every week for at least an hour with a brass coach (my favorite hubs).  All of these pieces were new and arranged by Don Allen.  "The Blessed Son of God" by Vaughn Williams, "Jesus Christ the Apple Tree" by great great uncle Jeremiah Ingalls, "Hodie" by Sweelinck and Fugue #13 by Shostokovich.  I particularly liked the Sweelinck who was a Dutch composer and organist at the turn of the 17th century. There were lots of meter changes which were done beautifully.  (Thanks, guys!)

The vocal music was provided by Women of Worship Ensemble.  They were, indeed, WOW'sers and sounded great.  They sang "Be Thou My Vision" in a Jay Althouse arrangement which was lovely and dynamic.  A nice variety of unison and harmony with great crashing chords in the accompaniment from high octaves to low.  It was a bit of a challenge for me.  One of those pieces that I can sight-read and then realize the end bit will take a bit of memorization.  The "girls" didn't like to hold their notes for 12 beats while I took my time, so an accelerando was added.  They also sang "Joy Comes with the Dawn" as a "response".  
Thanks, Team!

Monday Musical Musings 1

New Year's Resolution!  A report on Mondays of musical happenings... to satisfy  the "Ivories".
Let it be known that I am a Methodist church organist, and therefore will have something to muse about if I play each week.
Yesterday I touched no Ivories... only Ebonies and some other... brown wood.  Maybe the trim on the "black" keys is ivory.  (Some Sundays I play piano, too.)

The music:
Hymns (Oldies but goodies)

#1 Great is Thy Faithfulness.  Three verses and refrains with varying stops (sounds). Followed by a reading and one last Refrain repeated. (We don't always do the extra refrain.  It has tripped me up in the past: Once I closed the hymnal at the end of the regular singing only to hastily search for it again half way through the reading! Read: Panic!!) My usual variation of the printed music is to use passing tones in the bass/pedals. 

#2 And Can It Be that I Should Gain.  Again, three verses.  The last 8 measures are written with 4 part harmony that isn't what I consider in organ style.  I feel like the men singing are exposed if I play as written with only treble melody with no accompaniment.  Therefore, I add extra octaves in the lower range and chords to fill in the sound.

#3  I Need Thee Every Hour  Three verses.  Straight out of the hymnal.  Minor variations of stops for the verses and refrain.

NOTE:  I do not choose hymns.  Only incidental music and who plays what. I have a colleague who plays piano or organ opposite me.
Incidental Music:

Prelude:  At the early service I played a Telemann Choral Prelude. One Manual only.  It consisted of two voices which imitate the chorale tune and a third voice above the others using the chorale tune melody in longer notes.

Prelude: At the later service I accompanied my husband (piccolo trumpet) playing "Adagio" by Marcello.  The piece is originally for oboe and orchestra.  A very beautiful ornamented melody, full of twists and turns, played at mm=36.  (That's very slow, folks.)  He played beautifully; his sound is wonderful, and accompanying him is effortless.  Maybe it's because we have played together for 43 years...

Postlude:  Two variations of How Firm a Foundation, first in Eb minor, and second in D major arranged by Lau.

A vocal solo was sung by a little slip of a girl in 5th grade, who sang up a storm (Amazing Grace/My chains are gone) to a recorded accompaniment.  She had people wiping tears from their eyes and her tuning is impressive with only a few months of vocal instruction.
For past blog posts on this subject, use the search feature to the right by typing in "pipe organs" or "performance".

Back to the Future!

I'm back and running with my fingers lagging behind.  Nails are clipped, and will stay that way for awhile.  Choir rehearsals, church services, and my flutist is champing at the bit to get some playing time in.  

Life has a way of interfering with our practice time.  And if it doesn't get done, well, nobody's happy!

ME brought her music to practice last night and the first thing she pulls out is a Poulenc Sonata; it's easy, she says, very slow.  It's the second movement.

Hmmm.  Not THIS Sunday. How about 3 weeks. (I'm going to be camping for one of those weeks.)

YIKES!  It will be fine in 3 weeks.

Selecting Music

The Ivories were complimented yesterday!  Sometimes things just work!!


I heard from many that the music was wonderful, asking for the name of tunes, and it really was something that people wanted to hear.  It makes me feel good. I always feel that part of my job is to make an experience that will bring people back a second time.  There has to be something that will hook a person into returning for another hour, and maybe even bringing someone else with them.


ME is my flutist that pulls off the best sounds... everyone loves flute music.  Sax, clarinet, trumpet, etc. someone can be offended, but flute?  Never.  It wasn't until Friday that I decided that since I hadn't heard from ME, but she was expected to play on Sunday, I better search through my library and find a few things to "suggest".  Rather than finding things that will go with sermons, I find things that will create a mood of uplifting, contemplation, prayer, melodies known and unknown.  (Often I make up titles to fit the mood I want to create. Who's to know? And the title starts the process of an image before the music begins and gives listening guidance.)




I chose music that was rather repetitious but soothing.  Rolf Lovland and his music called Smooth Stones: Secret Garden is written for violin and piano.  Last Fall, I had a violinist try it out and it was amazing--people were very excited about the feel.  It's similar to Celine and Andrea.  (Without all the shouting...)






Neo-classical is the term:  ME does it well, and there's nothing like live music to fit the moment. Not only inspirationally but in length. By this, I mean, knowing when to stop is very important, and when to have enough to fill the moment, too.  Somehow, it came out just right with our phrasing.  There's a certain amount of luck and experience that goes into that happening.

Performance and Focus

I promised myself I would try to put some meaning and description to the part of my life that has been "on stage".  As a church organist, I know that people feel that the religious realm plays an important part of performance, however, I don't think so.  If your body and mind are not prepared for making sounds that people won't mind listening to, no higher order is going to bail you out.  


Here's a story from my past:  About 20 years ago, I was an accompanist for the church choir in the church where I grew up. Going back home as a "musician" isn't always easy. Everyone saw you as a child, and all those cute little hiccups that happen during church can be overlooked because "she's so cute, only 5 years old..." Now you have to be cool and proficient. The unthinkable happened: A veteran choir member died, a popular school administrator/teacher, someone who crossed into numerous areas of cultures and someone who had touched thousands of lives. The memorial service was a joyful one, attendance was double the firecode for the building, and there was more emotion than I was prepared for. We, in the chancel, were weeping and hardly able to breathe listening to people tell stories of his life and (BAM) the choir stood up, I sat at the piano, and we performed. I had no idea of the focus that is involved in performance and the focus I was capable of until that evening. No tears, no emotion, just music and focus. Some may say "hard-hearted", but you can't make yourself understood if you are in an emotional state, and somehow I was able to transport myself to the place where music happens.  Now I do it all the time.


Every Sunday I show up at 8 AM and if I've done my work in the week before, I'll be all smiles at noon.  The choir will file out and cheerfully greet me with a nod or kind word and all is right in the world. (I'll be hammering away at some cute little Bach piece...Eiyyy! Here comes the pedal melody! Don't take your eyes off the music now... Sorry, folks, I can't reply to that last remark: "How did we sound this morning?")  It takes preparation:  I have to be familiar with the order of the program,(You've got to be kidding! The prayer is ALWAYS followed by the offertory!) and I have to have particularly funny passages under my fingertips;  in some cases I've memorized certain chords or passages so I don't rely on the printed page. (Ab minor! Is this a joke?) I have to know where my printed pages are, too!  They don't automatically show up on the piano or organ desk...(How embarrassing is that? I KNOW I put my music on the piano just 20 minutes ago, yet...Nevermind, I'll grab someone's music and "they" can share. Awk! They have some stupid "choral edition" without my part in it. Doomed: "You, entire church congregation of 150 people plus 30 choir members, and 1/2 dozen clergy, TALK amongst yourselves while I tiptoe out and race down the hallway, up the stairs and back again so we can continue." I'll never know what they "talked about", will I?) Sometimes I think it should appear!  That will be the ultimate tech world where I sit down, push a button or two, and my music appears...  I'm not a fan of the tech world; so far, too many disappointments with glitches which can REALLY be stressful. (How many times has the screen gone blank of words, or an electronic squawk has sent people clapping their hands over their ears, dropping all else?) And finally, I have to be ready for anything! (And how close have I come to touching those keys that will make everyone stand up only to hear: "At this time we ask Jim and Donna to come forward with baby Tara for baptism.") There are many people involved in the service, and I believe it's my job to make everyone look good, and make a pleasant experience, if not an inspiration.

My husband is a great trumpet player, performer, musician and teacher. He's amazing! And he knows what he has to do to make it happen. Often he excuses himself for weeks before a known "triple-tongue" measure is going to occur, and I know exactly what to do. Give him space to do his thing. Even though people say he has a big ego, and he knows he's good, they don't know the preparation, the lead-up, the stress and pressure of that moment, and the need to hear the remarks afterwards. The biggest and most meaningful comments come from fellow musicians.  We both take pride in it, and enjoy it.