Lessons Learned

This blog is not defunct. Perhaps a step beyond sporadical, but I'll never say never again. I have closure issues, you see. And I note that this appears to be my 600th post.

It's a rather lengthy post, as I've taken videos that in the past I would have strung out over a week, and instead posted them all together. I expect only the cello-hardy to remain until the end.

This experiment was inspired by Owldaughter's serendipitous discovery that playing her recital piece over and over, instead of concentrating on the tricky bits, resulted in marvelous improvement. I wish I could remember who next mentioned Burton Kaplan's Technique of the First Try, (if it was you, speak up and I'll edit in an attribution), but that inspired me to use that technique to prepare for my recent recital, on which I performed the D MAJ Mendelssohn "Song Without Words."

Parenthetically, my preparation of this piece was hampered by a semester of pain in my bow arm generated by a neck condition, and on which I had a surgical procedure done at the beginning of the month. Let's just say I haven't been practicing very well this semester.

So here's the gist of the technique. Each day I warmed up for 10 minutes with a martele rendition of Long Long Ago (may have to make a post about that as well - it's a great warm up). I then set up the camera and the music and recorded my first play through of the day - no prior preparation. I played through a couple of more times while the recording uploaded, reviewed it, and played through 4-6 more times with attention to a trouble spot or two between. That's it. About an hour of practice each day.

Three days before recital...


The biggest changes were after this recording. I changed many bowings, and really started working on getting my elbow down (releasing tension) on my up bows. I'm listening to the accompaniment on my iPod, BTW, which leaves little room for tempo manipulation.

Two days before recital...


Still need to get those facial tics under control!

One day before recital...


This was the day after my dress rehearsal, which went very well. It was suggested I focus on how I wanted to shape the music. The problem I began having at this point was that the music was nearly memorized after so many repetitions (much to my surprise) and I was beginning to have difficulty following it on the page without getting lost.

Day of recital...


I didn't bother with the accompaniment for this run-through, partly because I was short of time, and partly because I wanted to play a little more freely.

Recital...


The problems with "near memorization" really came home to roost. In addition to being cold and playing cold, I kept losing my place. The worst problems were in the B section, where my accompanist did a wonderful job of helping me when I entered a loop, and with many places where my bowings were simply, shall we say, unplanned.

On the other hand, I think you can see how much improved this was over my 1st recording only three days before, as well as how I lost that predicted 20% from the "best" I'd done so far, under the stress of performance.

I think my primary take-away is that this is an effective technique, but should be started well before recital, not just three days. Ideally, this would be the prelude to a studio class or mock recital for friends, and the recital would be performed from memory. In fact, that's what I plan to do. I am so inspired by my imperfect success that I plan to do exactly that at an upcoming all adult recital in a month or two. Then I'll really feel like I've done the best I can with this piece.

Concert

The hairiest part about last night's concert was getting there.

I had planned well, I thought. I went to my 4pm lesson in concert black attire, with dinner (Zone-friendly string cheese + 2 slices luncheon ham + medium honeycrisp apple + walnuts and roasted squash seeds) packed in my bag. I figured if I left by 5:30 I could make my 6:30 call, as it is usually 30-40 minutes in rush hour.

Lesson was great, BTW. The student before me ran over, by design, I discovered. There was no student after me, as T- planned on running over with me on the other end. So I had a half hour of observing one of T-'s old students who had come back for an advanced brush-up on Haydn C. Then I had a little over an hour for my lesson, G major scale concentrating on intonation in the upper 2 octaves, and revisiting Lee #1. I've been working on memorizing it, a topic for another post, and it is amazing how much new technique gets overlaid each time I have a lesson on this etude.

Anyway, I left the lesson room at 5:20, and was exiting the parking lot by 5:30. Then I ran into one nail-biting back-up after another. The details don't sound as exciting today, but I was sweating, and grateful to end up only 10 minutes late for call. We have had horrible traffic since the snow started seriously falling last week. I surely hope people remember how to drive here again, soon.

The concert was anticlimactic. DH caught this pic, so I can show you the set-up. The orchestra is in a pit formed by surrounding elevated walkways, where speakers, singers and dancers moved above us. You can see the front row of cellos on the big screen - my head is in the leftmost corner.

Recovering

It has been a very busy week, complicated not by the lingering effects of URI #5, but by a reaction to one of the treating medications. I made it through two three-hour dress rehearsals for the church Passion play on Wednesday and Thursday evenings, but spent the wee hours of Friday in the emergency room with severe total body muscle cramps. After stopping the med and eating a lotta lotta potassium through the day I made it through the performance on Friday night, then two performances on Saturday. Performances were two hours, without intermission, and very little playing downtime.

I was very grateful for my Alexander Technique training this week, because my muscles were very twitchy and tried to spasm each time I contracted one "too far". All of that practice "letting go" and "doing less" really paid off. And I'm finally feeling better - the URI is gone, the cramping stopped, and I'm back to exercising and normal activities.

It was quite a production, and I'm glad I was able to play. Huge. About 35 in the orchestra, a cast of over 100, and lots of back stage crew and production engineers. Plus a donkey and at least four goats. We ran into a girl carrying one of the latter around the church on Saturday between performances - two weeks old, and totally cute. She (the goat) and my FIL carried on quite the conversation - I didn't know he spoke goat. Usually the goats rested in large carriers off-stage, and even so were the center of attention.

DH snapped a few photos for me on Saturday afternoon - very few, because he didn't want to be flashing during the performance. This photo was taken as the orchestra members got situated beforehand. There were 12 strings in two rows on the left - I am sitting below and to the right of the green exit sign. The bright line to my right (left in the pic) is my neighbor's stand light. There were two percussionists, one on snares, the other tymp, xylophone, gong, and everything else, and two guitarists in front of us, then two rows (6 or so stands) of brass and woodwinds lowest down, and to the right in the picture. Oh, and the keyboard closest to the stage.



And here is the tiniest video clip, where you can hear a bit of music and see one set and the "choir" on stage - plus a lot of shadowy heads in the audience. Sorry, It's all he got, but it does give you an idea of the scope of the production.

Concert

It's been quite a long time since I have played a concert in the evening. I was just reflecting that, between that fact and the lingering effects of my URI, I had good reason for feeling tired. But other than one major coughing fit at intermission and a few unexpected detours in the music (which I attribute to mushy downbeat syndrome in an over-excited Maestro) I though the concert went well. We did an especially good job on our premier of the orchestrated version of Katherine on my Chest/With you at your Grave. But I am sorry to say that the cello section still did not get that stringedo in the 4th movement of the Brahms. Bummer. We'll have something to shoot for next time.

My friend D- came to the concert with me, which was nice for several reasons. First, she has the same crud I have, so I was grateful that she even stirred out of her house. Second, she's from these parts, so when I heard that there were accidents on all of the major arteries into the city it was no problem to navigate around them all, and I learned a few new neighborhoods in the bargain. Others weren't so prescient, so extra pats on our backs for being on time. Third, I rarely know anyone in the audience, so it was nice to have a friend there. Fourth, I had someone to watch my coat and valuables during the performance. And fifth, she was happy to man my camera and recorder, so I have a few photos, and a few video clips, and a recording of the concert from somewhere other than under the cello section. Woo hoo! I can't tell you the last time I got to see myself in action.



So here you are; you can share in the fun. I think you can see in the photo what an odd set-up we have, giving concerts in this small church. The strings are on the same level as the pews, the winds are above us by six steps or so, and stacked far back. The tympani and harp are farthest back of all - I don't know how they can even see the conductor, who is down with us on only a step-up podium.

The video clip has my favorite theme from the fourth movement of Brahms' 1st Symphony. D- is not very familiar with these pieces, so I was amazed that one of the few clips she took caught this theme - not the first time, where the violins take off with pizzicato accompaniment in the lower strings, but later where the cellos have it. And she started the video before she could have known what was coming - way to go, D-!

Arise

It was an out-of-body experience. The dress rehearsal for my orchestra concert tomorrow night was this evening, and it's the first thing I've dragged myself out of bed to do since Monday. The rest of life is on hold until I recover a bit more.

Thanks to all for your good wishes. I have been following your advice assiduously, drinking copious quantities of chicken soup and tea, while surrounded by solicitous felines. It helped when I recognized I was having an asthma attack on top of this latest installment of Winter's Worst Hits, and treated it aggressively.

Tomorrow's concert could be interesting. There was a substantial article in the paper today about the contemporary piece we are playing (you would have read about that earlier if you follow my practice blog). Who knows, might be a crowd. That would be different.

Read the article. Listen to a piano recording of an excerpt.

We're also playing Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet Fantasy, and Brahms' 1st Symphony. Hopefully I'll still be with the program when we reach one of the most sublime moments in all of music (IMHO), when all joy breaks loose in the fourth movement. Wish me luck.

I'd better rest now.

Tired

I agree with John.

My illness took a turn for the worse this morning, but I felt obligated to play the medical school white coat ceremony. I need to take a page from Gen X and get over this misguided loyalty thing. Maestro was there to start us off, so it went much better than Tuesday night, but we were on our own playing the first half of the Romanze from Eine Kleine Nachtmusik for an hour during the coating. Yes, an hour. It was an out-of-body experience.

Finally home, and started antibiotics (which are making me nauseous), heading to bed. I expect my furry nurses to join me soon.

I hope it doesn't get any worse than this

Forget what I said last week. The disaster was last night. I don't think I've been this embarrassed in a performance since I went skidding across that floor on my accordion.

It should have been fine, a good thing, even. The string section from my orchestra was scheduled to play two slow movements from Mozart string quartets to start off the medical school anatomy memorial service. This is a function organized by the first year students at the end of their gross anatomy course in order to thank their cadaver donors. They invite the families of any of the donors who are available and make quite a nice program of musical performances, poems and eulogies. I understand that for some of the donors it is the only memorial service they may have.

We began the program. Lights came up, we played, then the speaking began while we exited stage right. Hastily, I might add.

This is my recipe for disaster:
* Take one orchestra composed of a range of intermediate-level players.
* Schedule two difficult pieces for performance in concert in too little time.
* Take one scheduled rehearsal two weeks before the concert and have the strings-only practice Mozart quartets that they will need to play three weeks in the future for a different function.
* Have the Maestro conduct the rehearsal, even as he announces that he will not be there because he has a gig that night.
* Do not have the concert master do any significant leading, even though she will be in charge of the extra performance.
* Make multiple contradictory declarations of which repeats to take and which not, depending on whether the piece will be played at the concert, the memorial service, or the white coat ceremony the following weekend.
* Send an e-mail two weeks beforehand to ask who is actually going to be there, as multiple string players have conflicts on that night.
* Don't tell the remaining strings who is going to perform, and definitely don't let them rehearse together in the planned configuration.
* On the night of the performance, have the concert master fail to show up at all.
* Have no warm-up before the performance, a combination of waiting for the tardy leader and other circumstances that dictated otherwise.

What else could go wrong? The second-chair pinch-hitting concert master tried her best, but her count-offs weren't really clear. We spent a complete B section of one quartet with each string section being off by a different beat. But at least each section stuck together. In an actual quartet it's pretty easy to get back together by adding or subtracting a beat, or jumping in someplace you know. If multiple people in the section tried to do that at different times it would be cacophony. I think it was better to keep section integrity and wait for an obvious place to get back together. Hopefully the audience was just thinking "I wonder why that doesn't sound quite right?".

But, the side-effect of all of that uncertainty was tension. Our violins are not what you would consider confident players at the best of times, and under tension they just fade away. Especially the seconds. I was grateful that the nice concert hall gave us a little more warmth than we deserved.

Other bad moments? The hurried instructions at the beginning about what we were playing, the order of the program, and which repeats to take (none). (BTW, we didn't screw up the repeats. One thing that could have gone wrong that didn't.) The moment when one of the cellists asked the stage director, who knew nothing about us, whether we would have a conductor. That gave me a really bad feeling. The moment we stopped playing and didn't know what to do, having not discussed that. (I gestured to the concert mistress that we should stand up and bow, which we did, so we didn't look like complete buffoons.) And walking off the stage with the collective opinion that this is the worst thing we have ever done. Ever. Ever even before my time. And have I mentioned yet that the auditorium was full?

This post is long enough, so I'm not going to talk about what I intend to do about all this. Which relieves me of the responsibility to figure that out in the next five minutes. I'll keep you posted. And thanks for listening.

Survived

Sometimes that's the best you can hope for. When you know you are in over your head, but the concert date has arrived. You've practiced, but honestly not as much as you could because the task feels so overwhelming and you just don't want to.

Now, don't get me wrong. It wasn't a disaster. Every time we pulled apart, we pulled back together. Somehow. It was a particular challenge because we never rehearse in our concert space, and it's set up with the winds four feet above and at least fifteen feet behind the strings, and the time delay was unsettling.

Some things went very well. The strings played a Mozart quartet, K. 157, between Carnival and Enigma, a breather for the winds, and a chance to enjoy playing something musically, and all of the notes, too! We didn't flinch when Maestro decided to play the second movement, too, not originally planned. He was watching the clock, saw we had a little extra time (we had never achieved a run-through of the Roman Carnival Overture without stopping before, so he hadn't timed it quite correctly) and we finished the concert exactly on the hour. Way to go, Maestro.

In the end, I feel reasonably good about how I played, competently in Nimrod and Variation XII of the Enigma Variations, the cello soli that I had learned 15 minutes before I left for the concert. For the most part, I came in where I was supposed to, at the right tempo, and didn't play during the rests. However, in spite of my best efforts over the past week, walking around clapping, counting out loud, drumming on the counter, and every other way I could think of, I just could not get the Mendelssohn-like variation with the cellos pizz on the afterbeats of 3 and 1. And unfortunately, neither could anyone else in the section. Though I continue to maintain that the real problem was that the violins had jumped the gun and come in early, and we never had a chance.

I love sitting around after the fact and obsessing over every little detail and thing that went wrong, and exalting over the things that went right. I remember long drives home from orienteering meets in college, reliving every hill, flag, and wrong turn with my team mates. But I don't know, other musicians don't seem to be so into that. Maybe it's the reticence that comes from not wanting to point fingers or make someone else feel bad.

I guess I can always say it in my blog. Heh heh.

Agenda

Today is my busy day this week.
* 0900 Physical Therapy
* 1130 Call for orchestra concert at noon
* 1330 Pick up D-'s new foster kitten at the vet
* 1730 Voice class

And in between, warm-up for concert and practice.

We're finally laying those Enigma Variations to rest, one way or the other. Yay!

A little cello news

Taking a break from Harry Potter. Whew. I don't know if I can stand this amount of intensity in every chapter. BTW, PFS, I had pre-ordered my copy from Amazon back in February. Love the convenience of having it delivered to my door, even though it means I'm 12 hours behind when I start reading. And I actually didn't have a chance to start until evening, which is why I'm only half-way through. Sleep is important. One of my favorite Harry Potter memories will be the anticipation of the book arriving by courier on release day, as I have done since 1998. Which book was that?

All of my past week was not spent flogging the computer issues. I had a pretty busy play week, too. On Friday and Saturday I got together with special music buddies to play cello trios, sonatas, piano trios, and string trios. The highlight was playing through some pieces written by Roger Bourland in the last decade or so that I had recently invested in upon Elaine Fine's recommendation. We read the cello quartet, with me alternating between cello 2 and 3 since we were short one, the piano trio, and one of the sonatas.

After reading, the universal consensus was that these are really fun pieces. They are technically within reach of good intermediate cellists, but will benefit from some thought and elbow grease. Everyone wanted a practice part so that we can work on them in the future.

On Tuesday and Wednesday my orchestra had our summer noon concerts. Both concerts were outdoors, on different parts of the University grounds. We split the music I listed earlier between the two concerts, with some duplication, and on both days had more scheduled than we actually got through. It was a lot of music, and I can admit here that I was not very proud of my playing, especially the second concert. It was very hot, we were on concrete, and under the tent the heat seemed to reflect off the ground to be trapped there with us. I was physically exhausted.

There was a light breeze that kept us from being completely miserable, but no stands were blown over and we only lost a little music here and there. We don't have the luxury of punching holes in orchestra parts to stabilize them in a notebook, though if I was in an outside seat I would have copied the music and put it in sheet protectors, similar to what Maricello described in one of my comments. (BTW, I have never seen fold-out sheet protectors, but they would be awfully handy.)

Since I had to use the principal's music, I didn't have the sheet protector option, but did have my choice of clothes pins or wind screens. I've used clips in the past, and find unclipping, turning, and reclipping to be an intolerable bother. Might as well not play, as long as it takes me. I chose the wind screen, a 12x18 in piece of plexiglass that sits in front of the open part. The brachial strings don't like them, but for cellists it's not too bad to grab the screen with the bow hand, move it to the side, turn the page with the left hand, then replace the screen and resume playing. I can usually do it within 6 measures, but did have to apologize twice for slow page turns. (You'll appreciate that, L8.)

Orchestra season is over, to resume in September. Cello lessons resume in October. I'm waiting to really want to play before I resume an intense practice schedule. Occasionally I wonder if one of the reasons I don't feel much like playing is that I don't have a very good cello to play on. My replacement is still waiting for the varnish to dry, somewhere in a very wet summer in England. In the meantime I'm practicing my cello desultorily, but spending more regular time on my piano lessons, which end next week, and a little ear training. I'm thinking about trying a beginning vocal class in the fall. And I'm enjoying summertime.

Summer program

Looks like I'll be able to practice some orchestra music this week, after all.

I got an e-mail today from our volunteer not-exactly-librarian-but-guy-who-takes-responsibility-for-filling-folders, listing the complete program for our concerts in two plus weeks:

Custer	A Salute to the Big Apple
Lerner	Camelot
Bizet	Carmen Suite No. 2
Webber	Evita
Mendelssohn	Fingal's Cave
Rodgers	King and I
Grieg	Peer Gynt Suite No. 1
Webber	Phantom of the Opera
Brahms	Serenade No. 1
Vivaldi	Summer
Rodgers	Victory at Sea

Yikes, that's a lot of music. But good news for my possibility of future competence: I invested in several volumes of The Orchestra Musician's CD-ROM Library of cello parts a few months ago, and it looks like I have parts there for Brahms, Mendelssohn, Bizet, and Grieg. (Oooh - they're on sale at Shar this week. Maybe I'll grab the other volumes.)

Wow, what a great resource. I'd better get to work.

Gig Book

A few months ago I joined my church orchestra, and on the same day a "more advanced" high school cellist joined. He brought his concerto music with him to every rehearsal and performance, played beautifully, and was lost most of the time. I helped as much as I could, but there's not a lot of down time when you have one rehearsal for half the music and get copies of the other half as you are climbing the platform on Sunday morning.

As I settled comfortably into the routine of rapidly preparing my music for practice and performing, I realized that I have either learned or discovered a bunch of common techniques for playing well in this kind of performance environment. I hadn't realized they were common until I saw many of my fellow orchestra members doing the same things, and I hadn't realized that everybody didn't automatically know how to do this stuff until I saw my fellow cellist struggling.

This is what I do:

Prepare a gig book
I have found a three-ring binder works best. Usually you are working with single-sided copies, and keeping them loose in a folder is just asking for things to get out of order. The music goes into the book in performance order. Save alphabetizing or other methods of organization for a separate archive.

Organize each selection
Start by punching holes in the music copies along both sides of the page. Then put the pages in the gig book in the best way to minimize page turns or disruptions in your line if turns are necessary. Ways that almost always work:

2 pages: 1st page goes backwards so you see p1 on the left and p2 on the right

3 pages: 1st two pages as above, p3 forward IF there is a good turning point at the bottom of p2. Vice versa if the best turning point is at the bottom of p1. Otherwise, p3 loose behind p2 and pull it out so you have three pages across stand BEFORE you start playing. If I have more than one crack at playing the piece I trim one side of p3 and tape it to p2, fronts together, then open it up to three across.

4 pages: usually p1 and p2 facing, page turn, p3 and p4 facing. If the bottom of p2 is critical, try p1 up, page turn, p2 and p3 facing, page turn, p4, or a variation with three pages across and one page turn. If the bottoms of both p1 and p3 are critical, there is one other option. Trim p1, tape to p2 facing. Trim p4, tape to p3 facing. Open all four pages across the stand, starting so you can see 1-3 with 4 falling off to the side. Mark "MOVE" at some convenient point after p1 and move the book to the left so you can see p4.

etc. Apply the above principles to group any larger number of pages.

Good page turning and moving points are not always long rests. Also look for rhythm motifs you can play on an open string. You can bow it while turning the page with your left hand. Or, if there are only one or two measures after the page turn before a good rest or open string part, write in those couple of measures at the bottom of the page and turn afterward. And ditto with one or two measures you can write in at the top of the next page so you can turn early.

Mark the road map
Choir pieces often have repeats, some of which become omitted. Cross them out boldly. Write in whatever signs you need to tell you where to go next. The lighting on stage or in the pit is, shall we say, suboptimal. Make sure you can see it.

Hymns. Seem simple. Play these four lines over and over. But how many times? At the top of each hymn, write down how many verses you are playing, and sometimes which ones to sit out, and sometimes which key to transpose to. My favorite to date:
v1 as written (was in D MAJ)
v2 tacit (organ)
v3 Db
v4 C
It may seem obvious during the run-through, but I guarantee it won't in the service when it is one of four tunes in rapid succession. Write it down.

Enough for one day. If I get around to it, I'll write a little bit about rehearsal and practice techniques I find useful in these playing situations.

Slow Practice

So I tried it. T- is right, an hour just slips by working like this. Not only that, but it seems to enhance my mushy memorization skills. After the first hour, in which I covered the first 12 or 13 measures of the Prelude, I was able to play the section from memory, and it sounded much less "square" and better in tune. So I thought I would put it to the test, and shoot a quick video.

OMG! My nerves killed me! This is such a good thing to do. No pressure other than a running camera sitting in front of me, but I felt all the tension of a live performance. Before listening to the clip, I put my observed performance at about 75% of what I had done 5 minutes before. I struggled with the tension in my body and in my face, and I heard all those little intonation errors. I heard them! That's great! And you know what? After watching, I'm still pleased with the outcome, because it is better than it was before. And as documentation of the progress to come, I'm posting the clip here.

Mic

I had a surprise waiting for me this morning in church... a brand new microphone in a tiny velcro strap to put on my bridge. Previously we have had a mic on a short boom a foot or two in front of each cello. I must say, having the microphone actually on my cello made me uncharacteristically nervous. Oh, no! Now everyone will be able to hear those runs I fudge! Yes, I confess. If there are more than 4 sixteenth notes in a quarter note I kind of slide the notes at an appropriate rate to land in time on the next down beat. My eyes still blur when they see too many notes crammed into too small a space.

When I told DH about the new arrangements he made that light-bulb-turning-on face and said that the sounds from the orchestra *had* been much clearer that morning. Fortunately, the only thing he remembered standing out was a ragged clarinet passage. Phew.

The AV support at this church is phenomenal. There are at least two big mixers "out front", one on stage left and one in the middle of the auditorium. In addition, there is a room full of monitors and I have no idea what kind of electronic equipment back stage. In addition to two super-sized screens for the congregation to watch videos and live close-ups of the pastor, choir, orchestra, and other performers, there are small monitors at the front of the stage and a larger one (36 in. or so) in front of the orchestra and choir where they project lyrics and program prompts for the performers. And the choir wears FM frequency radios that feed from the auditorium so that they can hear what things sound like out there. Amazing.

I haven't counted the choir members, but it's a big choir. More than 60. Maybe close to 100. (Now I'll have to count to see how good my estimating is.) In orchestra we have 4 violins, 1 viola, 2 cellos, occasionally more or less. Flutes, clarinets, bassoons, oboe, trumpets, trombones, tuba, drum set and guitars, piano, keyboard(s).

Those AV guys must be really good. I can't imagine making a beautiful sound out of the joyful noise of a separate feed on every instrument. I hope they are good enough to turn my cello down during my most spectacular flubs.

Transposing

I had an interesting experience playing in church this past Sunday.

I'm still figuring out the routine, but so far we have had one or two pieces with choir that we rehearse ahead of time, plus two or more hymn arrangements that we get music for on the way in to final rehearsal 30 minutes before services start. Then it's a quick run through to learn the road map, and maybe touch up a trouble spot. Maybe. If not, at least you know it is there.

Last Sunday one of the hymns was in D MAJ, and the road map was play three verses, the first in C, the second in Db, and the third in D. Orchestra was to sit out the first verse, play the second quietly, then forte for the third.

Well this is cool, I thought. I've never transposed a cello piece in a performance, but in piano class we transpose nearly every piece right now. They're all in five-finger patterns, so no big deal. I struggled to play through by intervals, like on the piano. Hit a few clunkers, but overall did better than I expected.

It wasn't until after I left that I realized all I needed to do was read the notes and think the key signature with 5 flats. Duh.

Does anyone out there have any secrets for transposing on the cello?

Concert report

I know, I know. I am very delinquent. This is how the concert last Thursday went.

The Program:
Mozart Overture to The Marriage of Figaro
Dvorak Slavanick Dance #2
Faure Elegie (with our principal cellist as soloist)
Humperdinck Overture to Hansel and Gretl
Mozart Horn Concerto in Eb (again our own soloist, a medical student, playing from memory)
Dvorak Slavanick Dance #1

My orchestra is associated with the local university hospital, and was originally started to give the musician physicians an outlet for performing. When this group of players proved somewhat unreliable ~g~ it expanded to include other employees, family members, and interested community players. They used to perform in the hospital lobby, always well-received, until the lobby was remodeled. First the construction, then it was smaller, then some bean counter decided it wasn't a place for concerts, anyway.

This was our second concert at a new venue, one of the churches on campus. We played in the moderately-sized sanctuary, stone finishes, wooden pews, two-story walls with the stained glass windows placed high. As we discovered last time, these are in exactly the right position for the sun at noon to stream down into the faces of the cello section.

The strings set up on the floor between the first row of pews and the pulpit area (which probably has a more specific name that I don't know), which was 6 steps higher, and upon which four rows of brass and woodwinds set up in a compact square, with percussion in the far rear. I have no idea how that worked acoustically in the sanctuary. From the floor, I could hear the winds much better than the strings, and myself not much at all, but took heart when the Maestro shushed us a few times that I was actually making some sound.

I really enjoyed hearing the Elegie with orchestra instead of piano. Our parts were a gift to the orchestra, presented by the principal cellist's wife, who is also the principal flautist. Isn't that sweet? I think they have played with the orchestra since its inception 13-or-so years ago. J- has played cello since childhood, and said he first learned the piece as a teen by sounding it out after hearing it on the radio. You know, I can't remember the last time I heard it on the radio.

The most entertaining moment of the concert (for me) happened just after Elegie, at the beginning of Hansel and Gretl. We had very little rehearsal time on this piece, it being the last-minute substitution for the Bach Double after the recent injury of one of the violin soloists. We played it at our last concert, and I was really happy when we turned that music back in. So it wasn't exactly an old friend, and I decided that with no time to practice properly I was just going to practice my faking skills. But that's not the entertaining part.

The Overture opens with a brass chorale for 7.5 measures before the strings enter together. J- had just moved his chair back into position next to me, and was regrouping after his lovely performance of the Faure. He's sitting there counting. We're both sitting there counting. I get ready to play, confident about where we are to begin because of both my count and the auditory cues. He's still counting with the bow resting in his lap. That makes me a little uncertain, but I *know* we're supposed to start now. The strings come in. He scrambles to get going, omitting the customary flourish with which he brings in the section. I am having a great deal of difficulty containing my mirth.

I like playing with J-. The concert was fun, and yes, I think it sounded well. I believe it was recorded, and if we get access to the mp3s I'll share a bit with you later.

Someday

One of my fondest dreams is that someday I will go in to a concert feeling completely prepared and supremely confident about what I am going to play.

Alas, someday is not tomorrow.

Recital recordings

At long last...
Thanks for your patience. The Odeo widgets should work for you now. If they still aren't, please comment again to let me know.

I finally listened to my recording of the recital. I used to listen right afterward, and always hated what I heard. Too many emotional overtones, I guess. I now let an adequate period of reflection pass before I listen, following the excellent advice of my last cello teacher (T2-). My far more generous assessments:

Chanson Triste


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I am still amazed at how difficult it is to maintain character and intonation for the entirety of a note. I was really struggling with concentration during this piece, so was happy to finish without major snafus. I was also glad that my piano teacher had asked me to perform this for my piano class earlier in the day, because the harmony from the piano wasn't what I had imagined. It would have been really tough to hear that for the first time during the performance. There are the two shifty bars in the middle interlude that need more work. T- recommended a sequence of double extensions to avoid having to shift between every note. And I would like to polish the interpretation some more. It sounded too monochromatic to me.

Breval Sonata in C, Allegro


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I thought this went very well until I completely murdered that triplet entrance near the end. I liked the character overall, but it could stand more exaggeration. I didn't notice too many technical details that need work, so feel free to point out anything I am deluding myself about.

Beethoven Piano Trio Op. 1 No. 1, 4th mvmt


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Alas, the pre-performance run-through was better, but for being under performance pressure this was not bad. I'm very happy with the tempo, much faster than we believed we could achieve when we started. And it hung together well even through the technical bobbles, also far fewer than we anticipated. We'll be performing this again next week, the first time we've repeated a performance. It will be interesting to hear what two weeks of rest will do, as we've switched gears to start working on the Hummel.

And an aside regarding recording quality. This was recorded on a Sony minidisc recorder model NH1, using an inexpensive mono channel microphone, buried in a bag under a chair in the second row, below the level of the stage. Certainly adequate given those parameters, but I really should get a decent mic and set up to record more optimally.

Missing my duet partners

It was a very small recital last night. The music school where I have my cello lesson, a group piano class, and piano trio coaching organizes a variety of adult recital opportunities throughout the year. Most teachers have studio recitals as well, but are more or (usually) less successful at enticing their adult students to perform with the kids, hence the separate opportunities.

Last night was a Strings Dept. recital (as opposed to All School = all instruments), and here is the program:
(1) Violin, scheduled to play a Mazas etude and a piece by Zogelchts, but canceled a couple of days before performance
(2) Violin, Telemann Fantasie
(3) Violin, Meditation from Thais
(4) Cello (me), Chanson Triste and Breval Allegro
(5) Piano trio (mine), Beethoven Op 1 No 1 Finale
Short, and with the cancellation of one violinist I was scheduled to be half the program!

The organizer padded the lineup with the last-minute recruitment of a cello duo after the New Horizon orchestra rehearsal on Wednesday. They grabbed a couple of short duets from the library and played them for us after one rehearsal. So not sight reading, exactly, but close. And very competently played, as one would expect from two people who get together every week to play duets.

In my immediate past life I had two dueting friends. One was also an excellent pianist, and we played piano trios in addition to cello duets for a few years. One year, disgusted with the limited playing opportunities in our cello-heavy chamber music group, we got the harebrained idea of playing the violin instead, and organized a group lesson. I had to stop after about a year and a half, but she continued, and even switched to the second violin section in orchestra. I guess that's when I moved over to take the role of principal cello. Maybe she had an ulterior motive? She died over three years ago, from lung cancer, very rapidly. I miss her greatly.

My other buddy was another student of my teacher's, but we didn't meet until he started playing in orchestra. When I switched teachers he followed soon after to my new studio, and somehow we got into the routine of spending the hour between his cello lesson and orchestra rehearsal reading duets. An hour devoted to playing music that was easy enough to sight read, just for fun, but it was also interesting to observe how the level of difficulty increased over time as a result of other study. I still see him every month or two, but it's a lot harder to organize duet time. That's been awhile.

No cello buddies yet in my new life. I guess last night I just remembered how much I miss them.

The good, the bad, and the ugly

I'm thinking of changing my blog title.

This is what the horoscope on my google home page said today:
Your key planet Mercury is quite active today, receiving its share of stress from authoritarian Saturn. This planetary heaviness leans on you now, preventing you from enjoying what would normally be quite pleasant. Although you might want to break your routine, the pressure of responsibility will likely keep you in a rut. You must follow through on previous commitments, but don't worry; you will get your chance for change soon enough.

Sounds about right. I'm glad I played this recital, but didn't really enjoy it. I played... OK. One major flub starting the last run of triplets in the Breval, but I have come to expect at least one completely unanticipated SNAFU. I'll post the recording, if it came out. This is a learning experience, right?