Yamaha C7

When it comes to pianos, I am extremely picky. It took me many years to find the perfect grand piano. To me, the perfect piano has not only a wonderful sound, but also great variety in touch – much beyond just loud and soft. The perfect piano can sing, it can weep, caress, it can shatter ears and souls.

Five and a half years ago I found and bought what we call “the first Kawai” which was perfect (still is) and then nine months later the “second Kawai” – second because we bought it after the first, and because it was second in quality. It wasn’t 100% perfect but it sounded like it could be, with a bit of work. Unfortunately, after nearly five years and at least two different piano technicians who worked on it, it still didn’t sound and feel exactly the way I thought it would and could. Somehow I wasn’t able to communicate to the technicians exactly what kind of sound and touch I was looking for. Still, it is a very good piano and I felt very fortunate to have two grand pianos in the studio.

Once in a while, I like to go to the piano store to browse, just for fun, or to look for a piano for a specific student. A week ago, Friday, I played several of the pianos and to my surprise completely fell in love with one of the grand pianos. It was simply perfect – I loved the tone, the touch – I can make it sound velvety, or bell-like, or booming bombastically, anything! It is considerably more expensive than the second Kawai, but we decided it was worth it to invest in this upgrade. We traded in the second Kawai, and last Friday Mid-America Piano delivered the new Yamaha. “New” as in new to me. It is a 1988 Yamaha C7, made in Japan. (Some of the newer Yamahas are made in Indonesia and are of lesser quality.) With good care, a good piano will keep its value, will depreciate extremely slowly. Not sure I would want a car from 1988, but a 1988 piano can be as good as one built just this year!

Pictures: http://sibyllekuder.com/the-studio

The Flaxen-Haired Girl, passing a gallstone

Tonight, I went to hear a pianist perform an all-Debussy recital:  all 24 Preludes; the first book before the intermission, second book after.

Concerts that feature only one composer are always a bit tricky.  There is the danger of too much of the same.  All Bach, all Chopin, all Prokofiev can get really old really fast …  Fortunately, in the case of the Debussy Preludes – though the pieces are all “preludes” -, there is enough variety to keep things interesting.

One issue the pianist must grapple with is how to present the twelve pieces of each of the two Preludes books in a row.  How much of a break / pause should there be between the individual Preludes?  Should they all be completely individual, disconnected, unconnected, unrelated, with equal pauses between them? Or should some of them be grouped together with shorter pauses or perhaps no pause in between?

Tonight’s pianist had some interesting ideas.  He decided to group the Preludes into sub-groups.  Most strikingly in the first half (first book) was the connection between the 7th and the 8th Prelude.  There was no break, no pause, in fact not even a pedal change between the last note of Ce qu’a vu le vent d’Ouest and the first note of La fille aux cheveux de lin.  My personal taste would be to separate the Preludes and treat them as individual pieces but I can see that someone else might think differently – matter of taste, nothing dictated by how Debussy presented the Preludes in the books.

What Debussy does dictate, however, are lots and lots of details in the score, especially where it concerns the tempo.  Numerous instances of retenu, serrez, and back to au Mouvt.  Which makes me think that he was very particular about how and where we are supposed to give, slow down, and then pick up the previous tempo.  Which tonight’s pianist seemed to gleefully ignore.

Instead, tonight’s pianist (yes, I am avoiding his name) indulged in continuous rubato. Or at least what he considered to be rubato. There are not that many places where Debussy actually uses the word rubato.  There may by seventeen retenu, serrez and au Mouvt indications in a piece but only two instances of rubato (yes, I counted) .

There is rubato which according to dictionary is “freely slowing down and speeding up the tempo without changing the basic pulse”.  And then there is distorting the tempo to the point where all pulse is lost, and rhythm becomes indecipherable, incomprehensible. Tonight, there were too many instances where for example continuous eighth notes within one measure suddenly screeched to a quarter note halt.  And then just as suddenly reverted back to eighth notes.  With nothing in the score to indicate that this should be happening.

Artistic license?  I think not.

At the beginning of this post I said that I had gone to hear a pianist.  Unlike listening to a recording, with a live performance one also gets to see, watch the performer.

Tonight’s performance was a spectacle.  Technically, the pianist knew his stuff.  So, why the contortions? The raised shoulders, the crouching upper body (reminded me of one of my 5 yr-old students who is fascinated by the innards of my grand piano and crouches to watch the strings as he is playing) – the facial grimaces?  My favorite piano professor once said, “Don’t interpret, for Heaven’s sake! Just play!!”  (when describing a particular student who thought that “interpreting” meant twisting and contorting your body in order to wring meaning out of every note).

Which brings me to the title of this post (the credit for which goes to Mark).  La fille aux cheveux de lin / Girl with the Flaxen Hair: is about a girl.  A girl.  Not grown-up yet, not a complicated person, perhaps not even deep or profound.  Just a girl (with flaxen hair – impressionists liked to be specific).  The tempo indication is “tres calme et doucement expressif” (very calm, and sweetly expressive).  Yet, tonight’s performance was as tortured and tense – in addition to being so completely all over the place rhythmically, with erratic and random dynamic changes (usually sudden) – as one would expect from someone who plays a piece depicting – I don’t know what: a woman in labor? an old man remembering better times in between bouts of sudden stomach pain?

Artistic license? Not if one doesn’t recognize the piece.

The Sunken Cathedral is supposed to start calmly (“profondement calme”), perhaps with an eerie sense that what is about to happen (in the story) is a spectacular, monumental once-every-hundred-years event.  I imagine a calm but not necessarily peaceful atmosphere if that makes sense.  Tonight, we were treated to unceasing tension, imagined pain, trying-too-hard-to-be-meaningful-ness.  The Cathedral’s climax was convincing, but everything else was too much, and yet not enough.

In a way, I wonder how this pianist who seems to have a very definite idea of how Debussy should sound and should be played – I wonder how he interprets other composers. Then again, I’m not sure I care.

Tendinitis

For more than two months now I’ve been struggling with tendinitis, and no, it’s not because I am a pianist / piano teacher.

As I explained to a colleague,

I am hesitant to tell people about it because they automatically assume “pianist” => “tendonitis” as if it were some kind of foregone conclusion.  As you know, playing the piano, even for a long time, doesn’t cause tendonitis (unless you don’t know what you’re doing).  In my case it was squeezing the insecticidal soap spray bottle for about an hour two months ago which wrecked my arm.  Repetitive motion at its finest …  Everything has been hurting, and getting worse, for two months now:  lifting the tea cup into the microwave, doorknobs, even just emptying the dishwasher, vacuuming!, anything that requires my hand to squeeze / hold on to something and then turn my arm.  Because I’ve been moving in a guarded manner, all kinds of compensation pain has now developed – left arm (to “save” the right arm), muscles I didn’t even know I had in my arm pits are screaming …  We tried a two-week course of OTC anti-inflammatory meds which helped with the pain but didn’t improve the inflammation.  It seems like the inflammation has settled comfortably in my tendons / muscles, so one of the goals of PT is to aggravate / re-injure the tissue to get a better response from the body.  Not much fun.  But I hope it works.  Fortunately, and amazingly, it hasn’t much impacted my piano playing – it’s a different set of tendons and muscles.

As mentioned above, we tried physical therapy.  After the third session, Monday evening I found a rather large and nasty bruise on my right forearm.  The entire area was very sore, extremely tender to the touch.  Even though it must have been largely my imagination, it felt like everything was hurting that night.

The next day I decided that 3 times-a-week PT alone – which focuses exclusively on the injured area – was not enough, it felt too limited.  I went to see my chiropractor who worked on my wrist, shoulder, neck, and upper back.  I don’t remember but I don’t think he even touched my forearm / elbow.  He explained that since my injury had been caused by repeatedly squeezing a spray bottle it could very well be that my wrist was involved as well – he called it “chicken and egg”:  who knows what came first, injury to the wrist which then moved back to the elbow, or injury to the elbow / tendon which then impacted the wrist.  Regardless, there were problems with my wrist and he addressed them.  As happens often after my (rather infrequent) chiropractor visits, there was a feeling of opening up, as if things (what things?) were moving more freely.  Somehow I was breathing easier, and my entire right arm felt less tight (I had not been aware that it felt tight before).  Very difficult to explain.  We scheduled a follow-up appointment three days later.

I called PT and explained that the injured area was extremely sore and that I wasn’t sure what my therapist would be able to accomplish the next day – except for stretching exercises all treatments are hands-on: ten or so minutes of ultrasound to get the topical anti-inflammatory deeper into the tissue; cross massage (NO WAY would I allow anyone to massage that area).  Electric stimulation I might have been able to handle.  The receptionist recommended to skip the appointment and pick it up on Friday again.

Thursday I saw a (different) chiropractor for acupuncture.  This was a first and while I had never experienced it before I was perfectly confident that it would be a valuable step toward healing.  The therapist explained afterwards that patients usually feel a difference within 24 – 48 hours which in my case would be Friday or Saturday (today).  When I made the appointment the day before, I had also asked about homeopathic remedies.  Dr Springer recommended arnica (both taken internally, and as an ointment), and ruta.  She warned to take the arnica for only two days:  that should be enough, and if one takes it without the body’s need for it, it may actually cause the symptoms to reappear.

Yesterday, Friday, I had another appointment with Dr Hamler (first chiropractor).  He was very pleased with my wrist but still found (to no one’s surprise) issues with other areas.  I told him that I haven’t been moving normally for over two months, so it would be a miracle if nothing else (other than right arm) was affected.  I like the idea of setting the body up for healing.  Dr Hamler suggested to allow enough time between different appointments, enough time for the body to respond to each treatment.  I will have one acupuncture next week, and one chiropractic treatment, nicely spread out over a couple of days.

Yesterday morning I met with the physical therapist.  She felt that my body – despite the very obvious response it showed Monday evening – was not responding to PT the way she felt it should in order to warrant continuing with PT.  (Originally we had scheduled 4 weeks of PT.)  I was surprised because when I had asked at the beginning how long it might be before things improve I was told “weeks, sometimes months”.  She wants me to go back to my primary doctor and re-visit other options, including a cortisone shot.  I was very disappointed.  Mark had injured his elbow several weeks ago and PT had been such a fantastic experience for him.

Anytime a doctor asks if my arm is improving – I don’t know what to say.  There are so many fluctuations during each day:  I wake up sore and stiff but things improve right away the moment I start moving.  Then I do something stupid, like carrying a pitcher of water across the room to water some house plants, and suddenly my arm screams.  There are so many things I shouldn’t do with my right arm:  there is practically no kind of housework that does not involve gripping and/or twisting:  vacuuming, ironing, moving laundry from washer to dryer, emptying the dishwasher, opening the fridge, opening a bottle or the milk carton, opening the mailbox, door handles, unlocking the car, brushing teeth, …  My left arm isn’t used to doing all of that, so it has been complaining now too … I have started to use two hands to do most of these things now.

Then things get better again.  I explain that I live with this arm 24 hours a day so it’s very difficult for me to see whether things are improving over the course of several days or a week or two.  I think I am also used to the constant nagging discomfort now, so if it feels better it may not actually be better, it’s just that I have learned to live with it.  ?

Having said that, I am secretly (so as not to jinx it) confident again that things are actually getting better.  Ever since yesterday afternoon-ish, my arm has felt better, lighter, less tense, hardly painful – God, how tempted I am to pick up that viola, and play, you know, just for 30 seconds or so.  Couldn’t hurt, could it?  I know it would … Playing the viola, and gardening are the two things (well, in addition to wanting to be able to take care of household by myself again, not needing Mark’s help left and right) that are so so very difficult to not be able to do.  Dr Hamler has a sign in his office:  “In spring, at the end of the day, one should smell like dirt.”

Yes please.

 

Jamey’s Senior Recital

Selections from Jamey’s High School Senior Piano Recital with links to YouTube videos:

 

Jamey’s arrangement of themes from The Phantom of the Opera:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-M6IzW94EeY

 

Jamey’s arrangement of themes from Pirates of the Carribbean:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gx3Uu8kMqMs

 

John Thompson Piano Concerto in D minor, 1st mvt.  Jamey won First Place when he performed this concerto for the Annual Concerto Competition when he was in 7th grade.  We still like to play it once in a while, just for fun.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gt9Mz1wa7rA

 

Elton John, Love Lies Bleeding, arranged by Jamey:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9z8mZzcWbYU  This was the first piece on the program. The primary video camera froze at the beginning of the recital. Mark was able to re-format the card before the second piece. Fortunately we had a secondary camera but this one was set up to capture the hands on the grand piano, and since Jamey played his Elton John on the keyboard we only get to see part of his back during this performance.

New York!

After a full day of traveling from Manhattan, KS to Manhattan, NY, we arrived this evening (Friday, March 23) at our hotel, the Hilton New York. Registration for the MTNA Conference closed at 6 p.m. so registration will have to wait until tomorrow morning. The first session tomorrow, a piano master class with Nelita True, starts at 8 a.m.

Breakfast will have to be early …

Saturday, March 24.

First things first.  I don’t do mornings.  I especially don’t eat before about 10 a.m.  Cup o’ tea, yes, fine, but oatmeal has to wait until my stomach is awake.  And my stomach, like me, doesn’t do mornings (I get physically almost-ill when I force it).  So.  Having to somehow fit in the registration process and some kind of breakfast and getting to the Grand Ballroom in time to get a good seat before 8 a.m. would be a bit of a challenge.  Even though Mark and I splurged and got a room in the conference hotel, thereby minimizing / eliminating any kind of commute, we got up shortly after 6:30 a.m. to allow enough time to find our way around on this first morning.

Just in case there would be a line at the registration table closer to the 8 a.m. Master Class, I went through registration first, then breakfast.  My hunch was correct:  when we walked past registration at 7:50 a.m., there was a long line.

There is a “Marketplace Cafe” which serves breakfast and lunch in the hotel but you certainly pay for the convenience of staying in the hotel … Breakfast buffet is $30 which I suppose is ok if you have two hours to sit and nosh and sit some more and eat and go back to the buffet several times because, you know, you have two hours.  We didn’t, so we carried out some fresh fruit and an egg-and-bacon sandwich both of which were excellent.

My stomach survived food at 7:30 a.m.  and at 7:55 I was seated in the Grand Ballroom, eagerly awaiting Nelita True, whom I had seen, heard, witnessed some 17 or so years ago.  I also have the four videos “Nelita True at Eastman” which give you a taste of her teaching which defies superlatives.  Her master class this morning was outstanding, of course.  I was again blown away by her wit, her humor, and her warmth. It’s such a tricky task to work with a student you’ve never met, in front of hundreds of people, on camera, finding the things that matter most and which you hope you can address (successfully) in 45 minutes …  Among the many favorite quotes from this morning:  “your mind was ahead, you threw that away”  –  “could this have more drama? You’re being so nice …”  –  “offbeats must be like a nudge in the ribs – don’t be too polite!”  and  “… could you make that just a bit more evil?” followed by her observation that composers like to use chromatic scales when they want something to sound sinister.

After the master class, at 9:30, I had to choose from four different sessions, two of which were of particular interest to me:  “A practical guide to fingering – breaking free of tradition” and “Approaching Anna Magdalena and the Two-part Inventions”.  I started with the fingering session and caught the tail-end of Bach.  I particularly appreciated that Scott McBride Smith and Steven Spooner (the fingering session) not only had a hand-out at the door but that they offered to email the hand-out to anyone who didn’t get one at the door because they had run out.

At 10:40, there were again four sessions to choose from.  I was equally interested in “Dancing the Baroque Suites and Romantic Dances” and “Lecture and Clinic: Basic Technical Principles / Troubleshooting the problems right away”.  I chose Technique and learned that especially with teenagers, the reasons for poor posture (slouching mostly) differ between girls and boys.  Teenage boys very often grow awfully fast and their bodies can hardly keep up, so Theresa Bogard recommended that boys work out and strengthen those new muscles to get stronger and feel better about this new body.  Teenage girls on the other hand often pull their shoulders forward, arms close to the torso, because they feel the need to protect themselves – Theresa reminded everyone that as teachers we must make sure we provide a safe (emotionally safe) environment for them.  Much talk about wrist and elbow and shoulder and rotation.  What I found interesting was her suggestion that wrist problems can come from being a Type A personality who has this need to control.  She suggested that it’s ok for the brain to be Type A, but the body must have a drink at the bar and relax.

Lunch across the street in a little deli Mark had scouted out earlier; we met up with two of my colleagues and had a very pleasant lunch together.

1 p.m. another master class.  Like Nelita True, Yoheved (Veda) Kaplinsky had interesting things to say about the extremely well-prepared performances:  “no matter how good one is, there are always other ways to look at things”  –  “Chopin’s long lines become easier if you insert commas”  –  “Rotate; think of circular rather than sideways.  Sideways twists the hand”  –  “this LH is not a lyrical legato, it is not necessary to actually connect the notes from key to key”  –  “a nocturne is not a lullaby” (this one made me smile because I had just the other day told one of my students the very same thing) “don’t use the loud section of a nocturne to wake people up – engage them from the beginning”  –  “do not just create affectation, do not just try to create an effect; make it sound more natural, more genuine” (and then she described and demonstrated where and how exactly to be more genuine).

2:10 p.m. I started with “Technique: it’s not just for fingers anymore” and sat in for a bit of “The essence of Chopin’s style” – actually, sitting in was impossible as the room was packed: just as many people standing and sitting on the floor as were seated on the chairs … So I stood for a while.  While I don’t think my Hungarian teacher in Germany was a Chopin specialist per se, she certainly knew and therefore taught us how to play and interpret his music.  I was a bit surprised to hear the presenter tell the audience that he finally figured out that “sotto voce” means left pedal in Chopin.

Mark and I had stayed in touch via texting; before the next session at 3:20 I took a short break and we went across the street to a Starbucks for some lemon bread and a latte, and then walked half a block to a nice little green space, “Urban Plaza”, to sit and catch up.

“Right from the start” with Marvin Blickenstaff made me wish he’d get in touch with Sheila Paige.  And by the time I sat in for a bit on “Back to Bach: performing the Partitas on the modern piano” I was tired and not really able to absorb any more teaching information.  So I sat in on the business session “Communication and Marketing” which offered some valuable tips on how to market your business.

Mark and I went back across the street to the little deli but were disappointed this time:  it looked like the buffet foods had been kept warm since lunch, and the clientele and therefore the whole atmosphere was very different from our lunch experience.  Worst though were the mosquitoes – not what I would have expected in March!

Earlier, Mark had showed me that from the street in front of our hotel we can see Central Park, a couple blocks to the north.  The Central Park.  He knew that the one thing I would not want to go home without having been to was Central Park.  We walked the couple of blocks to and then around the south-east end of Central Park, taking pictures along the way on this perfectly mild spring evening.

A full and filling day.  Tomorrow, in addition to events and a master class, the exhibits will open, and at 5 p.m. will be the premiere of the long-awaited documentary “Take a Bow:  The Ingrid Clarfield Story”.

Sunday, March 25.

Last things first.  The premiere of the documentary: “TAKE A BOW – The Ingrid Clarfield Story” will easily become the emotional highlight of this conference.  The video is very good, but to sit in a room with others and watch, witness the documentary, together – it was almost a spiritual experience.  To suddenly burst into laughter, together, to see others nod their heads in agreement, to hear emotional sniffs, to smile, together – it was very very special.  There was a standing ovation at the end, as much for Ingrid Clarfield (who, along with her husband, was in the audience) as for the maker of the documentary, Lu Leslan.  It was a very emotional experience.

Every time Mark and I travel overseas, we hit what we have come to call “the third day”.  That’s when the excitement from traveling and being somewhere else has worn off and overwhelming exhaustion sets in.  Nothing but a good long nap, and general lying low, helps on that third day.

This morning, after the exhibitor showcases ended at 9 a.m., I was exhausted and in no space to take in any more information, so I went back upstairs to our room and lay down for a nap.  45 min later I felt better and was ready for the day.  I skipped /missed the Opening Session, went straight to the Exhibit Hall and browsed.  Lots and lots of good stuff … Sigh.

11 a.m.   Marvin Blickenstaff’s “Intermediate Piano Master Class” was a delight – I had seen his teaching on video and knew that I would not want to miss an opportunity to watch his teaching live.

With another exhibitor showcase at 1 p.m. there wasn’t too much time for lunch.  Mark and I wandered, rather unsuccessfully, around the hotel neighborhood which is littered with little cafes and delis, street vendors and markets, couldn’t find anything that looked good.  Mark didn’t feel good so he went back to the hotel room to lie down, and I went across the street to yesterday’s deli and got some lunch from their buffet.

The Henle Urtext exhibitor showcase was surprisingly interesting.  Norbert Gertsch emphasized the challenge of determining what the “real” urtext of a composition is.  Is it the first publication?  The manuscript?  What about changes / corrections the composer made after the first publication?  One way they deal with this is by offering an extensive appendix (instead of foot notes which tend to clutter the page, often necessitating extra page turns).  He stressed particulars of Henle editions such as the non-glare, cream-colored paper which is easier on the eyes (especially in performance situations under artificial light), the fact that the paper won’t tear even if you turn the page quickly (as you must when performing chamber music), the binding of thicker books which allows them to lie flat, etc.  Barbara Fry, my teacher when I was growing up in Germany, insisted on Henle editions – except for Chopin where it had to be the Paderewsky edition, or the Cortot édition de travail (study edition) – so I am well familiar with Henle and the benefit of using an Urtext edition.

Back to the exhibitor hall … I turned in many of my coupons and received special goodies, such a sheet music samples etc.  Another short break so I could dash across the street to Starbucks for a moccha, hoping that it would help alleviate my headache.  Mark had been out and about but we had kept in touch via texting and were able to meet there.

“A Natural History Of The Piano” by Stuart Isacoff was interesting and witty.  Mark had bought the book for me the moment it came out, and since the presentation was a one-hour reduction of the book I multi-tasked: listening for a bit, checking email, etc.

After the video premiere, we went to a place called “Astro” which served delicious and plentiful Greek fare.  Mark had had a late lunch there to try it out and decided it would be a good place to have dinner.  They do have a website but it is not at all as appealing as the restaurant itself so I won’t post it here as it would probably give you a completely different / wrong impression of the real thing.

Tomorrow promises to be another full day, with probably no time for a nap.  Exhibitor showcases, the Keynote Address with Benjamin Zander, and, like yesterday, there will be a group of four sessions all at the same time (one such in the morning, one in the afternoon) – very difficult to choose just one!

Monday, March 26.

Anyone who has seen Benjamin Zander’s TED Talk on YouTube or who has experienced him in a live speech knows that the moment Zander opens his mouth to talk you’re in for a treat.  His Keynote Address was an elaboration on his TED Talk.  I loved the way he used the image of birds flying over the fences that keep the sheep in to illustrate long lines in music.  As an exercise to make the audience experience bigger pulses and longer lines in music, he had us – hundreds of musicians and music teachers – sing Happy Birthday to one of the members whose birthday happened to be today, subsequently working on individual phrases to improve.  I may not have been the only one who noticed that this may have been a bit of a moot point – we know about phrasing, and pulse; so the very first rendition where at the end we spontaneously broke into (more than) 4-part harmony was already quite spectacular.

Randall Faber in his exhibitor showcase talked about how they have been incorporating the latest in brain research in their method.  There are now second editions available for several books in the Piano Adventures series.

While I didn’t have much time to listen to Joanne Haroutounian present her new book “Fourth Finger on B-Flat” it sounded interesting enough so I ordered a copy.

Zenph Sound Innovations looks like a really promising idea – I had read about it in one of our journals already; it was interesting to see it in action.  At this time, the price is prohibitive for a private piano teacher with a relatively small studio.

Another piano master class:  this one with Alexander Kobrin who worked on two Chopin pieces.  Regarding rubato in Chopin, he said, “He writes it in when he wants it.  If not, just let it flow – semplice.  That doesn’t mean to play metronomically – we don’t breathe metronomically.”  –  “If you play slower it must be because something is different (such as a new voice in the accompaniment) – listen to what is different, so it has purpose.”  –  “sostenuto, don’t push it forward, it is not yet exciting”  –  “gentle, but polonaise”  –  about LH leaps: “don’t jump – you don’t want the accent from landing”  –  “don’t play faster than you can hear! Don’t let the fingers just go up and down.”  –  “In Chopin, unlike Liszt, every note has a purpose – you must hear every note!”  –  about a tricky ornament which the student played in a somewhat forced manner: “Don’t sound so angry”  –  and “intense but not hysteric”.

There was not enough time to go out for lunch and browse the exhibition hall, so Mark brought me some carry-out lunch I could eat in between things.

More exhibitor showcases:  “The Carnegie Hall Royal Achievement Program” (how much more prestigious-sounding can you get? Not only Carnegie Hall, but Royal, too!), and “Ultimate Music Theory”. At 2:15 there were again four very interesting sessions (all at the same time) and after sitting in for a bit on the Debussy presentation I went on and listened to “The Inclusion of Students With Disabilities”.  Most interesting for me were the personal stories of the two presenters.

More browsing in the exhibition hall.  The greeter (hall monitor?) at the entrance noticed that Mark and I were chatting for a bit by the entrance before we said good-bye (Mark was going to go back upstairs to the room) and suggested that we could get a day pass for Mark (who is not an MTNA member) so we could browse together.  I enjoyed being able to show Mark some of the things I had found, and being able to point out composers such as Dennis Alexander etc. who were available to answer questions and sign books.

For dinner we found another deli, this one much larger and, I thought, a bit nicer than the one across the street.  In defiance of normal dinner fare I had cheesecake and hot chocolate.  Back to the hotel room for a long nap, and then right back to the deli where, this time, I had foods from the buffet:  some hot pasta, chicken, veggies, and delicious cold salads, including some cold salmon.

Very much looking forward to tomorrow’s piano master class with Menahem Pressler.

Tuesday, March 27

Two of my colleagues and friends, Bonnie and Lee, had originally signed up for the Steinway tour but then changed their minds.  Since the tour plus getting there and back was going to take a good four or five hours I didn’t sign up – didn’t want to miss half a day of presentations, but Mark eagerly accepted their offer to take one of their invitations.  He wrote about it here.

8 a.m. exhibitor showcases offered a choice of 3-D Piano with Fred Karpoff; Hal Leonard new releases; the International Institute for Young Musicians with Scott McBride Smith, Steven Spooner and Jack Winerock; and Stipes Publishing’s Keyboard Fundamentals.

Since I purchased 3-D Piano when it first came out I skipped that presentation.

The Keyboard Fundamentals looks like an interesting book but the horrid voice leading (parallel fifths and octaves and leading tones left and right) in the demonstration of chord improv was appalling and unprofessional; it cheapened everything else.

The International Institute for Young Musicians is located in the middle of the USA: in Lawrence, KS – a mere 75 minutes from where I live.  After a short talk about the Institute, there was a (much too) short master class with three high school students.  Adrian Saari performed Liszt’s Waldesrauschen stunningly, effortlessly and beautifully – Steven Spooner commented on the fact that Adrian’s playing was able to draw the audience in at 8 a.m., even more astonishing considering that Adrian, in response to Steven Spooner’s question, admitted to not being a morning person … If he plays like that at 8 a.m. I wonder what he sounds like at 8 p.m.  His is certainly a name to remember.

One of the several highlights of this conference followed at 9:15 a.m.: Menahem Pressler had graciously agreed to give a master class. I could tell that I wasn’t the only one who had left the previous presentation(s) early to secure a good seat in the Grand Ballroom where Mr Pressler was going to be: by 9 a.m. the hall was filling up. Mr Pressler didn’t mince words when commenting on students’ performances … he was genuinely impatient and displeased when a student didn’t do well. It was clear that he expected a lot from the students, but not unreasonably so. And, of course, the few times he said “Yes!” or “Good!” – as genuinely as he had said “No!” before – it really made an impression.

More good stuff still before noon:  “Practice With Your Students”, a presentation by Martha Hilley, covered the many ways we can help our students be more productive in their practicing; and another Louis B Nagel presentation, this one on “The Six French Suites”.

At 1 p.m., Alfred Music Publishing presented more new music, but the really interesting stuff happened in Murray Hill (room):  “Special Students, Unusual Circumstances, Creative Technology” (Yamaha Corporation).  I walked in late, so I missed the introduction but what I heard and saw from then on was yet another emotional highlight of this conference:  Daniel Trush and his father introduced Daniel’s Music Foundation which, since 2005, has been providing free musical instruction to individuals with developmental and physical disabilities in the NYC area.  Connie Wible shared experiences from her own studio, encouraging the pitifully small audience to look into this special field of music teaching.

The fact that every day so far has brought at least one very emotional experience was not something I had expected when I decided to attend this conference.  I expected to learn, to review, to run into old colleagues / friends, to browse the exhibition hall – but I was not prepared for this to be an emotional experience. Mark said a few times that he could hear in the tone of my texts how very special some of the events were.

Tuesday afternoon and I was a bit running out of steam.  I knew from the beginning that this would be a time to be overwhelmed, with plenty of time back home to digest.  At 2:15 I sat in on “Strategies for Reliable Memory in Music Performance”, yet another presentation that was clearly planned for a smaller audience:  the room was packed and the air was getting stale and rather warm which made it a bit difficult to focus.

More exhibition hall browsing, and purchasing …  I am finding lots of very good books and materials.  MTNA had recommended that especially those of us who travel via airplane bring boxes to ship purchased materials rather than having to pack our suitcases with heavy books.  Mark and I decided to pack two suitcases with our clothes etc, and put the smaller of the two bags into a slightly larger one, thereby having three suitcases to bring back home.  One of them would be a carry-on = no extra bag fees.

For dinner we went to an Irish Pub Mark had tried and liked for lunch.  We met with Bonnie and Lee and had a fabulous dinner together.  One of the nice things about having had a (nearly) full glass of beer is that one doesn’t seem to mind when the waiter acidentally spills most of the rest of said beer on one’s clothes (and purse, and bench) …

Last conference day tomorrow.  No more master classes, no more exhibition hall, just presentations, and the Awards Brunch (which I hadn’t signed up for).

Wednesday, March 28

I had been looking forward to Amy Greer’s presentation “Let’s Play Ball! Motivation and The Music Lesson” but unfortunately – perhaps because I was tired (physically as well as mentally) – I found her nasally voice hard to take.  So I switched to “It’s More Than Just Being Nice” about the MTNA Code of Ethics.  Perhaps it was very telling, indicative of the role the issue of ethics plays in music teachers’ lives and organizations that this presentation was pushed (?) to the end / fringe of the conference – I had overheard quite a few people say that they were leaving Tue evening or Wed morning, presumably because there was nothing of worthy interest going on Wednesday.

“Playing Together: The Chamber Music Experience for Beginning and Intermediate-Level Pianists” was certainly of worthy interest.  I particularly liked that Kiyoshi Tamagawa tied his presentation in to other conference events: references to the Menahem Pressler master class, Benjamin Zander’s Keynote Address, etc.  It made it more – personal? relevant? and less like something that could have happened anywhere anytime, just another presentation.  With Mark’s cello studies (beginning of book 4 now) and my about-to-begin viola studies, I am looking forward to trying my hand at chamber music, looking forward to arranging tunes or original late beginner / early intermediate piano works for piano trio.

Mark had been taking wonderful care of me, being there to text or meet in person, bringing me lunch and mochas (spell check doesn’t know about mochas, wants to change it to ‘machos’ …), sharing the exhibition hall experience, taking pictures of me with contemporary composers I met and had asked to sign some of the books I had purchased; he had also been able to “do New York” a bit on his own – Grand Central Station, the New York Public Library, Fifth Ave – but we were looking forward to doing some of these things, and more, together.

On our second evening, we had already walked to and around the South end of Central Park.  Wednesday, after the last session (bitter-sweet –  what do you mean, That’s it? …), we walked to Fifth Ave (away from Central Park first) because I was hoping to do some shopping.  Found some basic clothing articles at H&M (familiar from Germany) and jewelry at the Fossil store, but nothing that would say “New York!”.  Lunch at Pershing Square – delicious!  Back, in light rain, to the hotel, and after a while, out again.  Broadway, Times Square, Junior’s Cheesecake (they are famous for a reason …), Fifth Ave toward Central Park, The Apple Store, FAO Schwarz …  Grateful for good (“sensible”) walking shoes … The weather was mild again, friendly, so beautiful to see the trees in bloom.

Thursday (yesterday), we traveled back to Manhattan, KS.  11 hours after we got up, we were back home.  To sleep in my own bed, take a shower in my own bathroom – ah, yes.  Having until Monday to come back and go back to teaching was excellent planning.  Right now I am in this delicious in-between stage – part of me is still in NY, I can still hear the traffic, still feel the energy …

Email exchange between students’ mother and myself.

(Parent’s and students’ names have been reduced to initials to protect privacy.)

 

Wed, 7 Mar 2012 23:29:44 -0600
Any desire to move this week’s lessons to Fri (no afternoon school), 2:30 p.m.?
Thanks,
Sibylle Kuder

 

Thu, 8 Mar 2012 10:07:04 -0600
Good morning Mrs. Kuder:

Thanks very much for asking. It is nice to move to Fri. afternoon. But I don’t think K will be ready since he has been pretty busy this week.
So there two ways for this week:

1. I ask them if they are ready for tomorrow, if they do, I will write email to you tonight.
2. We just stay on the original schedule Saturday afternoon 1 p.m.

Which way do you like?

Thanks

S.

 

Thursday, March 08, 2012 10:01 PM
I think I would prefer tomorrow, Fri, if possible.
I’ll wait to hear from you.
Sibylle Kuder

 

Fri, 9 Mar 2012 08:45:15 -0600
I asked them, only S is ready. If you prefer today, how about we move the time later, like 4 PM, I can let them practice a while. How do you think?

Thanks

S

 

Fri, 9 Mar 2012 08:45:15 -0600
When you said that K was really busy this week I tried to move the time to later in the afternoon to give K more time to practice today, but R must have her lesson at 5 p.m., so 2:45 is the latest we can start. I actually don’t mind if they are not 100% prepared – I know they are one day short. Whatever works best for you and the kids …
Thanks,
Sibylle K

 

Mar 9, 2012, at 10:10 AM
I talked to his teacher and I can pick him up early so that he can get more practice today. We will be at your house around 2:40.

See you this afternoon.

S

A week-end in Kansas City

(Originally posted by Mark on his site)

Sibylle and I just had a fantastic weekend in Kansas City. We took in Yo-Yo Ma’s appearance with the Kansas City Symphony Saturday evening, spent the night in a wonderful hotel near Country Club Plaza, treated ourselves to a late night snack at Cheesecake Factory, visited some of our favorite shops in Leawood and Overland Park, and attended a Stanislav Ioudenitch piano master class.

It all started on Tuesday when I discovered that Yo-Yo Ma was going to be performing in the new Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts with the Kansas City Symphony. We were stunned to discover that there were still tickets left. Exactly two seats for the Saturday evening performance.

Knowing that the drive home is two long hours in the dark we started looking around for a place to stay. We choose the Courtyard by Marriot on J. C. Nichols Parkway and were delighted with our room and the entire experience there. The hotel was originally apartments, and the hotel has preserved much of the 1920s charm in the building. There are still milk closets in the hallways that allowed milk delivery while maintaining peace and privacy in the apartment. Our room, while cozy, was clean and wonderfully inviting.

The concert with Yo-Yo Ma was exquisite. When I was a child, perhaps 10 or 12 years old, my father took me to see him and Emanuel Ax play. I consider myself extremely fortunate to have seen him play live twice. The Dvořák Cello Concerto performance was very good. His encore performance of the Sarabande from the D Major Bach Cello Suite was simply superlative. After the performance we treated ourselves to a late night snack at Cheesecake Factory. We each had an appetizer and a piece of cheesecake. We returned to our room around midnight completely satisfied with our evening.

Sunday we had a long lazy start to the day that included the breakfast buffet in the hotel. Around 11:30 we headed south to Leawood and Overland Park to visit some of our favorite shops. Sibylle found two sweaters and I got a chance to visit the Apple store and drool over the iPhone 4S I’ll be getting in a couple of weeks when I am eligible for an upgrade. We also shopped at Whole Foods, picking up a small lunch there too.

Park University north of Kansas City has an excellent music department including Cliburn Gold Medalist Stanislav Ioudenitch. Sibylle learned that he was giving a piano master class at UMKC on Sunday afternoon, so we timed our shopping to allow us to return to central Kansas City to attend. Even a beginning cello student can learn many things from a well presented master class.

We packed a lot in to two days (especially since Sibylle had her normal Saturday lessons prior to our departure Saturday afternoon) and enjoyed every moment of it. Recently we almost forgot about a cello recital in Manhattan and had to rush to the hall. The spontaneity of that evening managed to make it better. Our trip to Kansas City this weekend had that same air of spontaneity, and it too has been wonderful.

Post-surgery update

Ten days ago, two weeks after my gallbladder surgery, we saw the surgeon for the follow-up. To my surprise (which shows how little I know about surgery …), they had sent my gallbladder to the lab. The lab result showed chronic gallbladder inflammation. Like Mark said after the follow-up, it’s not usually a good sign when a physician uses the word “chronic” in a sentence, but in this case it was excellent news: since November 8, all blood tests and gallbladder-related tests had been infuriatingly normal or almost normal (borderline) – except for “sludge” in the gallbladder. We therefore had mixed feelings about the necessity and benefit of surgery. So, to hear that my gallbladder had been chronically inflamed was sad yet beautiful confirmation that surgery was indeed the right thing to do.

I have fewer and fewer instances / bouts of nausea. And I have noticed a sudden and dramatic increase in creative energy – like it’s been pent up for several weeks, three months, and now bursting forth. Teaching is again pure joy. My students and parents notice a different energy about me. Being able to eat more, and more different foods is joy. Living is joy.

Once again, life is good.

Recuperation

One week ago, today, Mark started to write about my gallbladder surgery. The surgery itself and the hours of immediate recovery went extremely well, confirming what the anesthesiologist had cheerfully said in our day-before-surgery phone conversation:  “You’re young and healthy – I don’t expect any complications.”

Young.  Wow.  I’ll be 50 this September.  Haven’t considered myself “young” in a while.

The “healthy” puzzled me at first:  how can one say that I am healthy when I have been struggling with persistent nausea and malaise for almost three months???  Yet, that wasn’t the health he was talking about.  It took me a moment to realize that he was talking about the blessed absence of any other health problems, the items he rattled off his list: no prior surgeries except for tonsils when I was maybe four and tubes in my ears when I was about 14, no problems with any medications, nothing neurological (Thank God), 140 lbs at 5’8″, no asthma, never had a stroke or heart attack, etc and so on – I guess in that sense I am healthy.   Definitely something to be grateful for.

While the surgery and immediate recovery did go extremely well – Mark took a short video of me walking, unaided, across the living room a mere six or so hours after the start of surgery, and I was almost euphoric the second day -, the days since then have been anything but straight-forward, linear recuperation.  I knew that walking and moving around would help with the healing, so I did that, and I am sure it helped.

What I wasn’t prepared for, though I should have known (because I did know but forgot), was the effect narcotics have on digestion:  serious constipation.  I should have started to take a laxative right with the very first pain pill I took, not wait until I realized two days later that, oh crap, I can’t go, with two days worth of stuff in my intestines.  Would have saved me some major discomfort.

Another lesson I learned, the very painful way the second night I was home, was that just because I’m in no pain doesn’t mean that I’m in no pain.  It means that the pain meds are doing their job.  Meaning:  the first evening, Mark set an alarm for 3:30 a.m. in the middle of the night, for me to take another dose of Norco (left-over prescription from the ER) – worked great.  The second night we didn’t (Mark would have but I thought nah, I’ll wing it).  Big mistake.  It took a miserably longer time for the meds to start taking effect than if I had kept the pain under control.  I wanted to get off the Norco as soon as possible, because I don’t like narcotics, and take Aleve or Tylenol instead.  Experimenting with different dosages kinda worked but I would probably not do it again.  Just take one or two pills every 4 – 6 hours as prescribed.

Walk and move and drink a lot, herbal teas for gas and bloating from the beginning would probably have alleviated at least some of the very uncomfortable gas and bloating.  The pictures Mark took of the incisions on my abdomen make me look like I’m pregnant.

The hardest part since last week though has been the return of the nausea.  Nausea is misery.  Every time I have a migraine (very infrequently), even while I am in pain, I say that I’d rather have ten migraines than one case of nausea or stomach flu.  I have had no reason to change my attitude about this.

Two concerns about the nausea:  first, why?  There must be a reason, and I would very much like to know what it is so we can take care of it.  (The thought was that my gallbladder, while perhaps not at the root of it, was at least contributing to it, so the surgery was a very good first step in the right direction.)  Second, even though I’ve been told many times that Phenergan is safe, and it does alleviate the nausea, I am concerned about covering up a symptom.

My mother’s second hip replacement surgery (surgery of the second hip) was unsuccessful, the replacement part never properly fused (?) with the bone.  Nobody knew, though, for many many months, because she was given very strong pain medication and was told to walk, walk, walk, and exercise, and do PT, which she faithfully did – and in effect damaged the hip even more.  She told me several times that on her own, without doctor’s orders, she would have taken much less pain medication, and therefore been alerted to something being wrong much sooner.  So, to be on the safe side, I called my surgeon’s nurse (one of the nicest people on this planet) who said that having the same symptoms as before the surgery is unfortunately not uncommon.  It may take a couple weeks for the nausea to completely go away.  Small meals, take it easy … And yes, Phenergan is safe to take as I need it.  Sigh.

In two days, I am starting to teach again; I asked several parents to move lessons to spread them out a bit – an hour and a half of highly focused attention at a time is probably all I want to handle for at least the next week or two.  My students have 100% of my attention 100% of the time they are with me; normally this is more invigorating than it is exhausting.  For the next week or two, we’ll do that in smaller steps.