A little Mozart.

Mozart Here is some music from my recent faculty recital.  Mozart A minor Sonata.  Just click on the link.  I hope you enjoy it…

Economy 2

Once again I’ve let too much time lapse between blog entries.  This morning I was sipping my coffee and surfing the net and found the following on CNN.  Jane Alexander makes such excellent points about the arts and the economy.  But to me, most importantly, she reminds critics of the arts part of the stimulus package that it’s not just “business” people that are employed in this country.  It’s writers, artists, graphic artists, musicians, concert promoters, people who run restaurants that feed playgoers.  The list goes on and on.  We can wax poetic about the value of the arts in the world, and if you’re reading my blog you’re part of the choir.  But really to the rest of the world it’s about dollars and sense and they need to get the message.   We artists are employed or potentially employed workers.  We need to work, too.  Here is the whole article if you like:  http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/03/04/alexander.arts/index.html

Snow

Okay. So the economy is tanking. Well, tanked. and our 401ks are worthless and no one knows what’s going to happen and we need to pass a stimulus and the lawmakers can’t agree and it’s all terrible.

But in Idyllwild we have this little snowstorm. Okay, this BIG snowstorm and we’re stuck in our house. The truck and subaru are up on the highway, but honestly I don’t think this time that we can hike there. It’s really deep. Like, take a step, sink to your chest.

So we’re trapped.

Lately, I have to confess, I’ve been feeling really stressed, actually panicked. I have concerts coming up and have had no time, no empty brain space, no peace in which to practice. But as of yesterday, I have a house, a roaring fire, plentiful food, and a Steinway at which I can sit and make sure that all is well for the concerts.

Even if the power goes out(as it surely must) I’ll be okay. The Steinway doesn’t have a power cord.

Economy

Sorry!  I wrote this last Friday and then posted it incorrectly!

Today is Friday, the last day of the semester(!) We’re exactly halfway through the school year and I haven’t posted nearly enough entries on this blog.  I’ll try to do better.

We had our weekly all-school meeting today in the theatre.  Along with the usual list of things like International dinner, Visual artist performance show, movie night, LACMA trips, that needed to be publicized, we had lists of perfect attendance read…  (Two of my fine piano students were mentioned, one of my advisees…) Anyway, we also had a presentation by our school president about the state of our economy(the world’s) and its effect on our program(the school’s.)

I was struck by how very lucky we are to be here together.  In a time of world crisis, loss of jobs, teetering markets, I’m surrounded by creative people.  I mean our faculty and staff, people who are able to see themselves in many ways, to reinvent themselves and ways of doing things, to find new ways out of old problems.  And I mean our students–the people that have the genes to be innovators, and who we’re teaching to be the problem solvers of tomorrow.  Whether they become professional painters or broadway stars or not, they will have the vision and resiliency to succeed in this rapidly changing world.  This is because they can see possibilities and imagine what they’ve never seen or experienced.  I worry for the future of  students who’ve only been taught the tried and true solutions to problems, who’ve not been taught to be critical, to think, to wonder.

Some of the greatest works of art in our world have grown out of the struggle against the rigidity of economy.  Economy of materials, of form, of function.  A Haydn symphony is a work of wonder confined by a rigid format.  A black and white photo can be so much more magical than one in color.  An Eames chair is perfect to look at, but it’s also a perfect simple solution for something to sit on.

We’ll get through this economic crisis together, I’m sure of it.  We’ll be better teachers because of it.  We’ll be better students because of it.  We’ll be better artists because of it.

We’re back!

We’re back!

Sorry about the little blog break. I took a little time over the holidays, and then with travel complications and school complications it became a LOT of time. We’re back a week now, and although it really sounds sappy, it’s so nice to have the kids back!
Yesterday, I went to a friendraiser in Palm Desert. A friendraiser is an event run by our Advancement team, which is designed to acquaint people with our school, in the hope that they will begin to consider us in their philanthropic giving. It’s important because we wouldn’t have a school if generous and thoughtful people didn’t make charitable donations. It covers a large part of our operation, and makes scholarships possible for our students the need help in paying our tuition.

Anyway, it was a fun event held at Bighorn, possibly the most exclusive country club down in the desert. Martin, Timmy, Kitty, Ruby, Casey and Anthony went with me to perform. We had some great jazz, some classical piano, a song from Drat! The Cat!, and some virtuoso violin indulgence. Of course they played well, blah blah blah. I took some student paintings and they received a LOT of attention. But my comment here relates to what I said above. We really have interesting students. I enjoyed spending my Saturday afternoon chatting with them. Arguing with Kitty, seeing them sneak to the table of appetizers because the sandwiches in the green room didn’t have gorgonzola, giving Casey a hard time about every single thing I could think of… arguing with Kitty, arguing with Kitty….

These students understand the importance of philanthropy, a good thing, because as artists they’ll be involved with it their entire lives. And it’s kind of fun as the teacher, surrogate parent, driver, cattle prod, antagonist, protagonist, to know that these young people are absolutely worthy of all of our trust in this important work. They’re smart, good conversationalists, happy to chat about their lives, interests, and our school. Oh, and they’re salesmen too! A group of this audience is planning to come up here to Kitty’s junior recital.

Anyway, that’s our first week back. We’ve got a busy week ahead: A cello masterclass with Rohand de Saaram, piano masterclass with Byron Janis and a mainstage play. One of the original plays from the creative writing department is playing at the Loft in Redlands, plus more from National Perfomance Art Month. I’ll have lots to write about.

Collective wisdom.

Many times since I started my teaching career at Idyllwild, I’ve been confronted with the consumer driven mindset of the times we live in, and how it is and is not compatible with the responsibilities of being an educator and administrator. Specifically, the problem is this: because I am a student and this is my education, I should get to decide what my major is, what courses I get to take and which teachers I get to take courses from. It seems so practical and logical. I mean, I go online and can shop and choose whatever I want from any store, pay my money and it appears in my mailbox. If I don’t like it or it doesn’t fit quite right, I can just put it back in the box and return it for a nice refund on my card.

A school doesn’t work like that, though. Sure, we have a few offerings that can be chosen from. Elective courses, things that fit outside the parameters of our requirements. But what we mostly have is a carefully thought out course of study. Sequences of courses, courses that we have designed to prepare a student for the needs that we forsee a student having.  We have hired teachers that we know will assess, consider and challenge. We get to choose what and when you will study and who teaches you.  And that’s the way it should be.  It’s what we’re good at.

It’s like omakase at the sushi bar. There is no ordering. You trust that the chef knows exactly how to put the ingredients together and craft a sequential meal that will satisfy and entertain. At a school we put courses, teachers and students together so that a student grows in ways that they couldn’t have imagined for themselves. We’re omakase, not a cafeteria. It’s the collective wisdom and experience of a faculty and administration and their ability to make decisions in the interest of students that make a school. Not a menu or a shopping cart.

Oh, and on the topic of dietary choice, happy belated thanksgiving.

Mattresses, tutus and Midori.

Yesterday was quite a day on our little campus.  The famous violinist Midori came and gave a really wonderful class to our music kids.  4 or 5 kids played for her, and she gave really great lessons for a group of violinists, cellists, pianists, faculty, board members.  It’s always so much fun to build associations with these people who’ve had such legendary careers and are willing to share their experience.  Do you remember the famous performance where she broke a string on her violin while playing a concerto and then swapped it out with the concermasters without stopping the piece?  Then it happened again and she swapped again?  This was when she was 14 by the way….

Then last night we had the first Dance performance of the year.  It was really varied and interesting.  I’d never really thought about how the angle of a tutu on the stage could create such a visual impression.  Or that horizontal and vertical placements of mattresses (and prospective sleepers) could truly give an impression of the mental state of an insomniac.  Pretty cool stuff.

Memory.

I promised a few weeks ago that I’d say something about Memory.  Not the Andrew Lloyd Webber song.  Playing from memory.  Once again we move into piano land as I start to prepare for some winter concerts I have planned.  Ever since Clara Schumann in the 1800’s played concerts without taking the printed music onto the stage, pianists have followed her lead and played from memory in public.  Thanks, Clara.

I can really only speak for myself, but I am a MUCH better pianist and musician when I am playing from memory.  I am also a MUCH more stressed, neurotic, paranoid, careful
pianist when playing from memory.  And why not?  In a typical piano recital a pianist might play tens of thousands of notes!  So these notes (and only these notes) must be played in the right order, at the right time, with the right sound, color, etc.  Now, you may say, some of those notes are in chords.  True.  My right hand can play five or six notes at once and so can my left.  Although you do remember these chords as a whole, much like you remember words and not individual letters, each of the notes has musical purpose and has to be remembered as such.  No free pass here.

Memorizing is pretty easy.  It’s learning.  It’s understanding.  Demonstrating the results of that memorization in front of a group of interested listeners is something ALTOGETHER different.  It’s stressful, worrisome, terrifying.  It’s walking the tightrope without a net.  Okay, so nobody dies if you screw up.  Instead with memory failure, you experience embarrassment, public humiliation, disgrace, the horrible feeling of panic when you’re in the middle of catastrophe in front of an audience….

So to me, the idea of memory has two distinct components:  Learning–understanding, analyzing, comprehending, internalizing, memorizing– and testing–going through every possible scenario, testing knowledge, making sure not only that disaster is not terminal, but that there IS no disaster.  Going through every possible scenario isn’t really what it seems.  Every possible scenario is not really possible.  With tens of thousands of notes, just imagine how many possibilities that might be? Instead there are tricks, ways of seeing and hearing that provide a redunancy of resources of knowledge and confidence when you’re on the stage.

Okay, so I’ll stop there.  It’s a blog, not a textbook.  More later on what learning is—to me, anyway—and what memory testing is.

What a Week!

I know I keep using that title.  But sometimes it’s just so appropriate.

We had an excellent election theme day at school.  I turned forty-something!  I saw my very first Madonna concert at Dodger Stadium last night!  And, oh yeah, our nation elected its very first African-American President.  I won’t say much here, because in this particular week, you’ve probably had enough to read and watch.

Forty something.  No comment.  A new President.  Well, let’s just take this exciting new start and let it breed some optimism?  Regardless of party affiliation.   Our students were completely respectful of other’s beliefs and opinions on election day.  Maybe it will seep out into our world.

But Madonna!  What a blast.  You know, what a study for our students.  It’s like opera.  No, I’m serious.  What other medium do you have singing; serious, athletic dancing; stage movement; tech theater design, construction, lighting; writing;  music; film; visual art?  (Plus Britney and Justin, but I digress)  Kind of like our school.  But I’ve gotta say, if it hadn’t been Madonna, I’m not sure I would have waited until 10 pm for the start of a 7:30 show.  And yes, I returned at 3 am, but only 3 students were affected by that.  They got better lessons than usual because I was so excited!

Another chance.

Often at our school it’s easy to get caught up in our jobs, the role we’ve defined for ourselves, or the one that’s been defined for us.  We find ourselves thinking that it’s the English department’s job to teach writing, the Theatre department’s job to teach acting, the dorm parent’s job to offer emotional support, the Admission department’s job to find great kids, and so on.  But really, that’s not the way it works.  A music history teacher that assigns a paper is instantly a writing teacher.  A Dance teacher dealing with a kid’s  insecurity about performing is teaching emotional coping skills and building (and I despise this term) self-esteem.  Admissions and marketing folks advise students, caring for them, bringing them Halloween candy.

We all have so many opportunities to participate in the teaching of these creatures that have found their way to our school.  One of the most fun requires the least effort: attending shows, concerts, plays, recitals, readings, and films.  Why is this instructive? A performer(and I include all of the disciplines as performers) needs an audience.  The mere presence of an audience changes the energy in a room.  Suddenly, a performer has a MIRROR!  Does the energy you’re giving come back?  Do they laugh in the right places?  If they don’t can I learn from that?  Is the audience moved by my work?  Entertained?  Bored?

Does having a great audience of my peers and teachers make me a better person?  Maybe or maybe not.  But consider this:  As a kid I was a miserable student in anything physical involving anything other than my hands.  I was inept at basketball, football, tennis.  I could go on but it’s depressing.  But it would have made all the difference to me if those gym teachers knew I could sort of play the piano.  I would have felt better about me.  I think they would have felt better about me.

Positive personal growth.  And YOU get to participate.

Our Country’s Good.  Friday and Saturday at 7:30, Sunday at 2.  IAF Theatre.

Presented by the Idyllwild Arts Academy Theatre Department Company.