Indianapolis Baroque Orchestra: String Band
NUVO, Nov. 28, 2007
I'm not reviewing it tonight, another writer has than honor, but eighth blackbird is in Indy tonight. After that they head to Depauw University for a few days of residency---lucky students. Hope they take advantage of it! And I hope the place is packed tonight for the group--if you're in Indy, and you are enthusiastic about new music (and/or great performers), you should totally be there.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
I'm not the only bassist who likes Mahler
Upon checking my usual daily blogs, I was delighted to find another bassist who enjoys Mahler. (I still hold the title of the bassist who loves Mahler the most out of all bassists in the this world, however.) Major kudos to this guy not only because he digs Mahler, but he also went to the best music school in the US. He also studied with my hero. (is there anything else I can link to? Here, try this.)
John Grillo talks about how he is looking forward to playing Mahler 2, and I can certainly understand his excitement. When I played it back in the days (like I'm old or something, geesh) I was positively shaking with excitement. After running the piece straight through for the first time, my stand partner and I looked at each other and said, "We are better people now."
I have a funny feeling I've written that in another blog somewhere. Forgive my forgetfulness.
Anyhoo---not only does yours truly love Mahler, but she also loves gigs, which keep on comin' in. I'm doing a favorite of mine for a friend here in Indy, who throws a wine party every month. In December I look forward to providing a bit of Christmas cheer via my bass for this gig, and I'm looking forward to that. This gig happens a few days after my last Nutcracker concert, and then after the wine shindig, I get to review the Indianapolis Chamber Orchestra playing Messiah. There's another Messiah in town that I really want to see, but alas, I can't get to it due to Nutcracking duties, but it sounds terrific.
Then after Nutcracking duties are over, I head to the Hilbert Circle Theater to listen to Alex Ross chat about his book. To say that I am looking forward to it is a bit of an understatement!
John Grillo talks about how he is looking forward to playing Mahler 2, and I can certainly understand his excitement. When I played it back in the days (like I'm old or something, geesh) I was positively shaking with excitement. After running the piece straight through for the first time, my stand partner and I looked at each other and said, "We are better people now."
I have a funny feeling I've written that in another blog somewhere. Forgive my forgetfulness.
Anyhoo---not only does yours truly love Mahler, but she also loves gigs, which keep on comin' in. I'm doing a favorite of mine for a friend here in Indy, who throws a wine party every month. In December I look forward to providing a bit of Christmas cheer via my bass for this gig, and I'm looking forward to that. This gig happens a few days after my last Nutcracker concert, and then after the wine shindig, I get to review the Indianapolis Chamber Orchestra playing Messiah. There's another Messiah in town that I really want to see, but alas, I can't get to it due to Nutcracking duties, but it sounds terrific.
Then after Nutcracking duties are over, I head to the Hilbert Circle Theater to listen to Alex Ross chat about his book. To say that I am looking forward to it is a bit of an understatement!
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Happy Thanksgiving
Here we are, Turkey Day! Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
I'm tempted today to worry about dumb stuff (like how I might mess the turkey up, etc etc) instead of giving thanks for things in my life. So, for right now, I will put my fears and random thoughts about other stuff aside, and purposefully think of what I am thankful for today.
I am thankful for....
Mum, dad, Daniel, Lea, and Stephanie.......Nami and Mia.......my life, which is abundant.....my wonderful apartment.....my editors......music, sweet sweet music......the ISO bass section.....my Facebook friends---the one's I know personally, and through cyberspace.....PEOPLE WHO READ MY BLOG AND HELP MY BLOG GET READ......the fact that Steve McClaren is no longer England's manager.....solitude......venti four pump no water soy chais from Starbucks......long, hot showers....good blogs(look to the right to see which ones they are).....my family in Bloomington--how I love you all more than you could ever know.......the cool side of my pillow.....
The more I think about it, the more I can come up with. It's amazing how many good things there are in my life---they are numerous, and I could spend all day today, and all day tomorrow listing what I am thankful for.
Have a happy and thankful day, dear readers.
I'm tempted today to worry about dumb stuff (like how I might mess the turkey up, etc etc) instead of giving thanks for things in my life. So, for right now, I will put my fears and random thoughts about other stuff aside, and purposefully think of what I am thankful for today.
I am thankful for....
Mum, dad, Daniel, Lea, and Stephanie.......Nami and Mia.......my life, which is abundant.....my wonderful apartment.....my editors......music, sweet sweet music......the ISO bass section.....my Facebook friends---the one's I know personally, and through cyberspace.....PEOPLE WHO READ MY BLOG AND HELP MY BLOG GET READ......the fact that Steve McClaren is no longer England's manager.....solitude......venti four pump no water soy chais from Starbucks......long, hot showers....good blogs(look to the right to see which ones they are).....my family in Bloomington--how I love you all more than you could ever know.......the cool side of my pillow.....
The more I think about it, the more I can come up with. It's amazing how many good things there are in my life---they are numerous, and I could spend all day today, and all day tomorrow listing what I am thankful for.
Have a happy and thankful day, dear readers.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Gotta go crack some nuts
I was rather pleased today when I received a call for a gig! Woo hoo! And of course, for what else could it be at this time of the year, other than the beloved Nutcracker??
I love the Nutcracker. I've heard people tell stories of how they played 87 Nutcrackers in a row and how they dreaded it, and they now hate that piece. I was always ENVIOUS of them, that they got to play it that many times. It's a really great bass part, and I love that piece.
When I was at IU, I played it twice. First because I was in University Orchestra, and they always play the Nutcracker. Then the next year I was one of the principals of another orchestra, and we weren't played the ballet, which totally depressed me. I looked at my orchestra's concert for December, I remember thinking "That rep sucks!" So I made it work out, that I traded up with a freshman, and I got to play the Nutcracker. I tried to make it that I played every single performance, but Tom W., orchestra manager extraordinnaire, wouldn't let me. I think I even asked Mr. Effron if I could play all the performances, and he shot me down. Oh well....
Playing in the pit--in almost any pit, actually---is a hoot. Of course, all of us burst out with various ideas about what we would wear in the pit, because no one can see us, so surely they wouldn't be able to see the pajama pants/converse all stars/soccer shorts/Scooby-Doo slippers we talked about wearing. Oh, and then there was the genius idea that we'd bring in coffee travellers with special drinks inside. (vodka tonics, favorite beer, etc etc). Yeah, none of us showed up with Scooby Doo slippers and an alcoholic drink. Oh well. We still had fun anyway.
I have a lot of great memories from my time playing the Nutcracker at IU, and my favorite has to be when I was sitting on first stand for a performance, and we were positioned a little more forward than the rest of the section. At the beginning of the second act, the dry ice started going, and the most wonderful thing happened----it came down in to the pit, straight on to my stand, and then bounced off and dissipated. It was so beautiful and poignant. I looked over at my stand partner and we both smiled and kind of said, without saying it, "This is so cool. We'll remember this for a while to come."
That's the cool thing about the pit---you remember the clapping, you hear the "ooohs" and "aaahs" and remember the cheering. At the end when the orchestra is getting recognized you're so thrilled to wave your bow up in the air, and it's all warm and fuzzy and kumbayah-ish.
Anyway, this gig should be great. We have 6 performances, and I believe they are putting me up in a hotel for two nights. That should be cool, too. Possibly some time for fun adventures, checking out new towns. This gig is in Illinois, and of course I'll have to see how far I am from Chicago. I'm up for some new fun experiences, so I want to make the best out of this gig. That also includes bringing my Scooby Doo slippers for the performances, and seeing how I can sneak a Stella Artois in.
I love the Nutcracker. I've heard people tell stories of how they played 87 Nutcrackers in a row and how they dreaded it, and they now hate that piece. I was always ENVIOUS of them, that they got to play it that many times. It's a really great bass part, and I love that piece.
When I was at IU, I played it twice. First because I was in University Orchestra, and they always play the Nutcracker. Then the next year I was one of the principals of another orchestra, and we weren't played the ballet, which totally depressed me. I looked at my orchestra's concert for December, I remember thinking "That rep sucks!" So I made it work out, that I traded up with a freshman, and I got to play the Nutcracker. I tried to make it that I played every single performance, but Tom W., orchestra manager extraordinnaire, wouldn't let me. I think I even asked Mr. Effron if I could play all the performances, and he shot me down. Oh well....
Playing in the pit--in almost any pit, actually---is a hoot. Of course, all of us burst out with various ideas about what we would wear in the pit, because no one can see us, so surely they wouldn't be able to see the pajama pants/converse all stars/soccer shorts/Scooby-Doo slippers we talked about wearing. Oh, and then there was the genius idea that we'd bring in coffee travellers with special drinks inside. (vodka tonics, favorite beer, etc etc). Yeah, none of us showed up with Scooby Doo slippers and an alcoholic drink. Oh well. We still had fun anyway.
I have a lot of great memories from my time playing the Nutcracker at IU, and my favorite has to be when I was sitting on first stand for a performance, and we were positioned a little more forward than the rest of the section. At the beginning of the second act, the dry ice started going, and the most wonderful thing happened----it came down in to the pit, straight on to my stand, and then bounced off and dissipated. It was so beautiful and poignant. I looked over at my stand partner and we both smiled and kind of said, without saying it, "This is so cool. We'll remember this for a while to come."
That's the cool thing about the pit---you remember the clapping, you hear the "ooohs" and "aaahs" and remember the cheering. At the end when the orchestra is getting recognized you're so thrilled to wave your bow up in the air, and it's all warm and fuzzy and kumbayah-ish.
Anyway, this gig should be great. We have 6 performances, and I believe they are putting me up in a hotel for two nights. That should be cool, too. Possibly some time for fun adventures, checking out new towns. This gig is in Illinois, and of course I'll have to see how far I am from Chicago. I'm up for some new fun experiences, so I want to make the best out of this gig. That also includes bringing my Scooby Doo slippers for the performances, and seeing how I can sneak a Stella Artois in.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Mia Bella Incandela 1995-2007
Yesterday, Friday Nov. 16, my little kitty, Mia Bella Incandela, passed away. Yes, I know this post isn't about music, but Mia is far more important than any composition, instrument, or musician.
Mia was my cat for 9 years, and before that she was my brother and sister in law's. She enjoyed the finer things in life: wet food, treats, high end catnip, naps, and curling up with me whenever she could. She was quite the stereotypical cat, excelling in nap-taking, and being picky and choosy with who she liked, and who she didn't. (for the record, she adored me). She also was prone to two awful ailments which caused disgust at some times, and laughter at others: bad gas, and something every animal fears: the dreaded dingleberry.
But seriously--although that last paragraph WAS serious--Mia will be missed, big time. I am so used to having her next to me whenever working on the computer. She loved to curl up with me, or rub herself all over my laptop. She's listened to as much Mahler as I have, and she put up with my bass practicing, even when it was awful.
Due to her death, I will not be making the drive to Cincinnati to hear Mahler 7. Music right now is not on my mind. Plus Mahler takes a lot out of me, and I don't think I have the capacity for that right now.
As much as I love music, there isn't a sound in the repertory quite as wonderful as Mia's meow. I would happily give up bass playing, and going to concerts, just to hear her voice again. She will be missed, indeed.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Right Rite
I don't know about the rest of you, but I can easily wake up in the morning and sing the intro to Rite of Spring in tune, on pitch--and I'm working on being able to simultaneously sing the other parts at the same time (I'm joking about the last part, but am serious about the first). It's something I rather pride myself on, actually. That high C has got to be one of the most amazing Cs in all of music literature. I know there are a lot of Cs, but that one has a special place in my heart.
I was browsing through my iTunes list, thinking about what I wanted to listen to next. I came across ROS, and smiled---"I think I'll listen to this again!" I said to myself. I then went to hum it, as I so often do, and panic struck me. All of a sudden, I was afraid I couldn't sing it. I didn't know if I really was hitting that C. It strangely wasn't feeling right. I was feeling unsure and insecure about the first pitch that came out of my throat. I worried. Did I lose that ability---that SUPERPOWER--of being able to sing the intro correctly, on the right pitch? Oh no!! What if I did??? What then??? Is my life over? Can I talk to somebody about this? Can I get my superpowers back? Or was it going to be like in Superman, when he goes and loses his powers in that chamber thingy just so he can get it on with Lois Lane and then when he wants to fly again he has to go back to his decrepit home and find the green stone thingy to get back his superpower mojo??????
But before calling the I've-lost-my-Rite-of-Spring-singing-abilities-800-number, I decide to click on the tune, to see how far off I was. Maybe only a half step. Or maybe more? I began to sweat...everything about music theory and history I have ever learned has practically fallen out of my brain, and now I'm terrified this last bit of musical knowledge, if you will, has fallen out too.
CLICK. ROS begins, and I realize my fears were for nothing. I find my pulse going back to normal. My blood pressure eases up, and my muscles relax, and happiness floods through me. Sure enough, I got rite right.
I was browsing through my iTunes list, thinking about what I wanted to listen to next. I came across ROS, and smiled---"I think I'll listen to this again!" I said to myself. I then went to hum it, as I so often do, and panic struck me. All of a sudden, I was afraid I couldn't sing it. I didn't know if I really was hitting that C. It strangely wasn't feeling right. I was feeling unsure and insecure about the first pitch that came out of my throat. I worried. Did I lose that ability---that SUPERPOWER--of being able to sing the intro correctly, on the right pitch? Oh no!! What if I did??? What then??? Is my life over? Can I talk to somebody about this? Can I get my superpowers back? Or was it going to be like in Superman, when he goes and loses his powers in that chamber thingy just so he can get it on with Lois Lane and then when he wants to fly again he has to go back to his decrepit home and find the green stone thingy to get back his superpower mojo??????
But before calling the I've-lost-my-Rite-of-Spring-singing-abilities-800-number, I decide to click on the tune, to see how far off I was. Maybe only a half step. Or maybe more? I began to sweat...everything about music theory and history I have ever learned has practically fallen out of my brain, and now I'm terrified this last bit of musical knowledge, if you will, has fallen out too.
CLICK. ROS begins, and I realize my fears were for nothing. I find my pulse going back to normal. My blood pressure eases up, and my muscles relax, and happiness floods through me. Sure enough, I got rite right.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Oh Canada....
I was checking my blog statistics today and noticed a strange amount of Canadians checking out Mahler Owes Me Ten Bucks. I did some investigating, and found out the source.
Many thanks, CBC Radio 2, for the kind blog mention.
Many thanks, CBC Radio 2, for the kind blog mention.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Borders forced me to buy CDs today
Yes, it's true. Borders forced me to buy CDs today. They sent me the most beautiful coupon: 40% off CDs!!!! I had no choice---40% off! So, in I went. They had a limit of 3, which was good for me, plus it's good that this ends tomorrow. (but tomorrow I will not be buying any. Hopefully). I always have a list of pieces I want, and I was especially in the mood for Dvorak's Serenade for Strings. But alas, all I found was some shady recording which also had his 9th symphony on it. No way. I already have one recording of that, and that's enough, thank you very much. Instead of orchestral or chamber pieces, I decided I needed more piano music----which I do. So, I picked up 3. First I got some Ligeti---Works for Piano: Etudes and Musica Ricercata, with Pierre-Laurent Aimard playing. Then Mitsuko Uchida playing Beethoven's Piano Sonatas 28 and 29 "Hammerklavier". And last but certainly not least, I got Richard Goode playing various Mozart piano pieces. Lovely lovely lovely. I am a happy camper for sure, as is my wallet.
I did part of this shopping after I saw a recital, which had 3 pieces on it, all with different artists. The last piece really freaked me out, as it was Franck's Sonata in A. What's so freaky about that, you ask? Because it wasn't a violin playing. It was a FLUTE. That so irked me. I began to throw a mini temper tantrum in my head when I realized what I was about to hear. I kept thinking "I bet he wrote two sonatas in A. That's what it is. There's no way someone in their right mind would play this on flute." But sure enough, there it was. The flute mocks that piece, laughs at it, and makes fun of it. That's no way to treat a piece of music. I am unsure how to write about it, as I am reviewing this for NUVO. I am trying to remain objective and whatnot, yet I know I am on to something. How can that piece be taken seriously on a flighty sounding, airy instrument that has nowhere near the capabilities of intensity that the violin has? Hmm.....I will have to sit on this for a few days, and just jot down some feelings here and there concerning it. My review isn't due til Monday, so that leaves a lot of time to think.
Saturday night is my big musical night of the week. I get to drive to the nasty part of Cincinnati (which describes much of downtown Cincy) to see Mahler 7. Many thanks again to my friend in the orchestra for tickets.
The season is semi winding down though, which is nice. I can finally catch up on all the reading I have been wanting to do for so long, and also the other important things in life: napping, making grilled cheese sandwiches and dipping them in tomato soup, and rearranging my house. These are just a few of my favorite things to do in the fall. I shall do these things whilst listening to one of my new CDs, I'm sure.
I did part of this shopping after I saw a recital, which had 3 pieces on it, all with different artists. The last piece really freaked me out, as it was Franck's Sonata in A. What's so freaky about that, you ask? Because it wasn't a violin playing. It was a FLUTE. That so irked me. I began to throw a mini temper tantrum in my head when I realized what I was about to hear. I kept thinking "I bet he wrote two sonatas in A. That's what it is. There's no way someone in their right mind would play this on flute." But sure enough, there it was. The flute mocks that piece, laughs at it, and makes fun of it. That's no way to treat a piece of music. I am unsure how to write about it, as I am reviewing this for NUVO. I am trying to remain objective and whatnot, yet I know I am on to something. How can that piece be taken seriously on a flighty sounding, airy instrument that has nowhere near the capabilities of intensity that the violin has? Hmm.....I will have to sit on this for a few days, and just jot down some feelings here and there concerning it. My review isn't due til Monday, so that leaves a lot of time to think.
Saturday night is my big musical night of the week. I get to drive to the nasty part of Cincinnati (which describes much of downtown Cincy) to see Mahler 7. Many thanks again to my friend in the orchestra for tickets.
The season is semi winding down though, which is nice. I can finally catch up on all the reading I have been wanting to do for so long, and also the other important things in life: napping, making grilled cheese sandwiches and dipping them in tomato soup, and rearranging my house. These are just a few of my favorite things to do in the fall. I shall do these things whilst listening to one of my new CDs, I'm sure.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
I forgot to relish my music....
I'm listening to a piece of music that I played a few weeks ago in a concert in a little hilly town that proved to be an adorable place to drive to, and play in. The music endeared itself to me (at first I was tempted to roll my eyes at it, and its theme). I'm currently listening to one of those pieces.
A really easy bass part just flew by---quarter notes, b flat g, b flat g, etc etc, and then down an octave. As I was listening, and remembering playing (it's amazing how when you are listening to music you have played you can almost feel the strings beneath your fingers, which to me is the best feeling in the world---better than a hug, more wonderful than a kiss). I began to really get in to this music, and began to get crushes on all the lesser parts that aren't featured much, and I really dug the bass trombone---normally an instrument that I look at as a "I wish I were playing a different part" instrument. Even the tuba entranced me slightly! (and I have no respect for an instrument that can play lower than me, so that's saying something). I was getting all caught up in this music, when it occurred to me...
Despite all my efforts at rehearsal, despite my PURPOSEFUL intentions to never forget what I was playing and what rehearsals entailed and how I felt at that one measure when I did that one thing----I NEVER FULLY RELISHED PLAYING MY BASS AND PLAYING IN AN ORCHESTRA. I thought I did! I walked away all pleased with myself, batch of memories in hand, a bag of conversations literally memorized, and a head full of new experiences. Yet despite my desire to not forget, and not take for granted playing music live (which is always better than going to a Big Five Orchestra concert to hear Mahler live in a great seat with the love of your life next to you whispering in between movements 'I love you, and I love that you love Mahler'). Seriously, playing music---even *****y music is better than listening to music. I will always want to play my bass more than listen to a concert. (this all leads me to believe I should perhaps go back to music school to finish off what I started, but that will have to wait. Despite what I just said, I am thoroughly enjoying going to all the concerts I am going to).
But for all that, I don't think I really did my best to enjoy and relish my bass playing for that concert almost 2 months past.
Wait a sec....MAYBE I DID. Maybe because I am enjoying this music even MORE that means I learned something, I gained something in the playing of that piece. I'd like to think so....
The feeling all this leaves me with though, is the desire to play again, and SOON. But what is coming up? It's November. That means what's coming up are Christmas concerts, HISSSSSSSSS. I love Christmas, don't get me wrong---I fully celebrate it. But the concerts around that time reek of cheesiness, and the depth of those concerts sincerity is often nil.
In the meantime I guess I will just keep listening to this piece, and try to decide if I really did relish my music or not. Who knows.
A really easy bass part just flew by---quarter notes, b flat g, b flat g, etc etc, and then down an octave. As I was listening, and remembering playing (it's amazing how when you are listening to music you have played you can almost feel the strings beneath your fingers, which to me is the best feeling in the world---better than a hug, more wonderful than a kiss). I began to really get in to this music, and began to get crushes on all the lesser parts that aren't featured much, and I really dug the bass trombone---normally an instrument that I look at as a "I wish I were playing a different part" instrument. Even the tuba entranced me slightly! (and I have no respect for an instrument that can play lower than me, so that's saying something). I was getting all caught up in this music, when it occurred to me...
Despite all my efforts at rehearsal, despite my PURPOSEFUL intentions to never forget what I was playing and what rehearsals entailed and how I felt at that one measure when I did that one thing----I NEVER FULLY RELISHED PLAYING MY BASS AND PLAYING IN AN ORCHESTRA. I thought I did! I walked away all pleased with myself, batch of memories in hand, a bag of conversations literally memorized, and a head full of new experiences. Yet despite my desire to not forget, and not take for granted playing music live (which is always better than going to a Big Five Orchestra concert to hear Mahler live in a great seat with the love of your life next to you whispering in between movements 'I love you, and I love that you love Mahler'). Seriously, playing music---even *****y music is better than listening to music. I will always want to play my bass more than listen to a concert. (this all leads me to believe I should perhaps go back to music school to finish off what I started, but that will have to wait. Despite what I just said, I am thoroughly enjoying going to all the concerts I am going to).
But for all that, I don't think I really did my best to enjoy and relish my bass playing for that concert almost 2 months past.
Wait a sec....MAYBE I DID. Maybe because I am enjoying this music even MORE that means I learned something, I gained something in the playing of that piece. I'd like to think so....
The feeling all this leaves me with though, is the desire to play again, and SOON. But what is coming up? It's November. That means what's coming up are Christmas concerts, HISSSSSSSSS. I love Christmas, don't get me wrong---I fully celebrate it. But the concerts around that time reek of cheesiness, and the depth of those concerts sincerity is often nil.
In the meantime I guess I will just keep listening to this piece, and try to decide if I really did relish my music or not. Who knows.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Alas, no more August
When I arrived home from Columbus Ohio, I was rather depressed. As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I was asked to return August to his owner. I spent my few remaining minutes with August by at first taxing him and getting in to a fight, playing such excerpts as The Bartered Bride and then some part of Rite of Spring that is damn hard to play. I was then exceptionally sweet with him, playing the solo from Mahler 1. Then, I had to pack him up, and in my car he went, to his house. I can't call it his home. Does his owner love him as much as I? Every day when I passed August to leave to go about my business, my heart ached a little. Just a little. Not too much, but enough to make me wonder about how his day was going, and wondering what he hoped I would play on him when I got home. Would it be Mozart 35 tonight, or 39?
When I was at his house, I got to play him just a few more times. His owner and I were having a bass-off of sorts. Beethoven 5 here. Mahler 1 there. A dash of Brahms 2. All such a tease.....the evening gets worse as well, as I am handed ridiculously expensive bows to try out, and there is one that is essentially a sweet flower, and one that shouldn't be ruined with orchestral excerpts. But alas, Beethoven 5, and more is played with it. Sigh...it is a LOVELY bow, on my LOVELY August. Oh, my dear August....
I wake up the next day with fond memories of my last moments with August. The excerpts, the wonderful response, the big sound I get from him. The way the neck isn't too thick but not too thin---and the way the strings seem almost unnoticeable under my fingers. But he's gone. I must move on. I must.
I then decide it's time to give Gustav a shot. Gustav is the Pollman in my house. He is cared for, and even loved, although is he cherished? Good question. I pick him up, and start playing, scales, warm up exercises, and the like. He is not as familiar as my beloved August, but he will do. Gustav is still pretty good to me---we used to hang out a lot in the past, and I'm happy for our reunion.
I am playing arpeggios now, and for my D major, I decide to end on a nice, big fat low D. The kind that August reveled in. So I'm playing along, going down the strings, and it's almost time for the money note, and I raise my left hand to go to the extension to play that obese low D and.....
realize that there is no extension. This bass, he's extension-less. I realize that I am not playing August. I somehow had fooled myself, tricked my mind. My brow begins to furrow. The sheepish grin is wiped off my face. I sigh heavily. A pout begins.
I put Gustav down. I shake my head at him, and he says to me, "What? What is it? What have I done?" He's innocent. Absolutely innocent. Yet my anger has to go somewhere, doesn't it?
I stomp around my 1200 square foot apartment---that's a lot of room to stomp around in. I snap at the dust bunnies in the long hallway, and I curse my washcloth in the bathroom. Everyone is my enemy, now that I've been separated from August. All the shadows in my apartment cower in fear, the air is thick, and I am given a wide berth.
I climb in to bed, furious and angry and hurt and upset and trying to think sour grapes at the same time, and my mood is disrupted by the bloody cell phone.
"What *#&@%@( is calling me now?"
It's a good friend of mine, I see on the caller ID. I pick, and say "---, how are you?" To which this dear man replies, "Your favorite symphony is on the radio!" I think to myself, "how bloody nice of this guy to call and tell me this." He could have called me to see about those tickets I wanted. Or to see how the composition of my letter to important people is going. But out of the kindness in his heart, he calls me, uninformed as to the downright crappy mood I am in, to share beautiful music with me.
My heart softens as I go further in to our conversation. I wonder if this man has a 6th sense or something---maybe he knew I was feeling troubled? Did he know I had to give the instrument I was raving about to everyone as though it were a new lover, back to the man who bought it? Perhaps he did, because after some Mahler talk, he then went on to bash some awful music, and oh how I love an eloquently spoken bash. It delights me, it makes my toes curl. He then goes on to tell me the history of an arts organization, and how this person did this to that person, and how they started it all and finished it all and did everything in between.
At some point in this conversation, I forgot about August. He was nothing more than a wonderful memory, stored in the cupboard of my brain. It was only when I hung up that I remembered him. But then I had this new sweet feeling, of a soothing bandaid on a weeping, aching wound, in the form of a conversation---and all was well.
When I was at his house, I got to play him just a few more times. His owner and I were having a bass-off of sorts. Beethoven 5 here. Mahler 1 there. A dash of Brahms 2. All such a tease.....the evening gets worse as well, as I am handed ridiculously expensive bows to try out, and there is one that is essentially a sweet flower, and one that shouldn't be ruined with orchestral excerpts. But alas, Beethoven 5, and more is played with it. Sigh...it is a LOVELY bow, on my LOVELY August. Oh, my dear August....
I wake up the next day with fond memories of my last moments with August. The excerpts, the wonderful response, the big sound I get from him. The way the neck isn't too thick but not too thin---and the way the strings seem almost unnoticeable under my fingers. But he's gone. I must move on. I must.
I then decide it's time to give Gustav a shot. Gustav is the Pollman in my house. He is cared for, and even loved, although is he cherished? Good question. I pick him up, and start playing, scales, warm up exercises, and the like. He is not as familiar as my beloved August, but he will do. Gustav is still pretty good to me---we used to hang out a lot in the past, and I'm happy for our reunion.
I am playing arpeggios now, and for my D major, I decide to end on a nice, big fat low D. The kind that August reveled in. So I'm playing along, going down the strings, and it's almost time for the money note, and I raise my left hand to go to the extension to play that obese low D and.....
realize that there is no extension. This bass, he's extension-less. I realize that I am not playing August. I somehow had fooled myself, tricked my mind. My brow begins to furrow. The sheepish grin is wiped off my face. I sigh heavily. A pout begins.
I put Gustav down. I shake my head at him, and he says to me, "What? What is it? What have I done?" He's innocent. Absolutely innocent. Yet my anger has to go somewhere, doesn't it?
I stomp around my 1200 square foot apartment---that's a lot of room to stomp around in. I snap at the dust bunnies in the long hallway, and I curse my washcloth in the bathroom. Everyone is my enemy, now that I've been separated from August. All the shadows in my apartment cower in fear, the air is thick, and I am given a wide berth.
I climb in to bed, furious and angry and hurt and upset and trying to think sour grapes at the same time, and my mood is disrupted by the bloody cell phone.
"What *#&@%@( is calling me now?"
It's a good friend of mine, I see on the caller ID. I pick, and say "---, how are you?" To which this dear man replies, "Your favorite symphony is on the radio!" I think to myself, "how bloody nice of this guy to call and tell me this." He could have called me to see about those tickets I wanted. Or to see how the composition of my letter to important people is going. But out of the kindness in his heart, he calls me, uninformed as to the downright crappy mood I am in, to share beautiful music with me.
My heart softens as I go further in to our conversation. I wonder if this man has a 6th sense or something---maybe he knew I was feeling troubled? Did he know I had to give the instrument I was raving about to everyone as though it were a new lover, back to the man who bought it? Perhaps he did, because after some Mahler talk, he then went on to bash some awful music, and oh how I love an eloquently spoken bash. It delights me, it makes my toes curl. He then goes on to tell me the history of an arts organization, and how this person did this to that person, and how they started it all and finished it all and did everything in between.
At some point in this conversation, I forgot about August. He was nothing more than a wonderful memory, stored in the cupboard of my brain. It was only when I hung up that I remembered him. But then I had this new sweet feeling, of a soothing bandaid on a weeping, aching wound, in the form of a conversation---and all was well.
Monday, November 5, 2007
A post a la Alex Ross style
So often Alex Ross posts all sorts of info in a short paragraph or two. If you have read my blog at all, you know that is hardly possible for me. But I think I'll attempt it. Here goes.
The Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra played a concert this past weekend with one of the best cellists I have ever heard in my life, Truls Mork. His Shostakovich was impeccable, and deeply emotive. Saturday night I headed over to Columbus Ohio to hear the Columbus Symphony Orchestra, with Augustin Hadelich as the guest, wowing us with a thoroughly clean and classical reading of Mozart 5, complete with a supple and warm sound. The audience was in love with it, and he came back to impress and endear himself to us with Paganini's 21st caprice. I was also delighted to say hi to him during intermission, and he was as kind as ever. Came back to Indy to much distress---the Colts lost, and even though I care little for that ridiculous sport, I despise the Patriots and find their coach to be a despicable human being. I also got a call to return August to his owner, which has me thoroughly depressed. However, I did get to act like a bass nerd with August's owner (my former teacher) and we sat around and played excerpts together, which was encouraging to me. This week are a few concerts at University of Indianapolis, then Saturday night Leila Josefowicz is soloing with the ISO. The next weekend is the next batch of Mahler, at the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. Also I recently received an email from a member of the Gustav Mahler Society of Chicago, the Chicago Mahlerites. I will be sending off my check tomorrow to join this group. Also, I recently picked up the book that everyone else has read---Alex Ross's "The Rest is Noise". (about time I did that, I know).
I kinda feel like that was a drive-by post. But oh well. Short and to the point. (something I rarely am. Feels interesting.)
The Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra played a concert this past weekend with one of the best cellists I have ever heard in my life, Truls Mork. His Shostakovich was impeccable, and deeply emotive. Saturday night I headed over to Columbus Ohio to hear the Columbus Symphony Orchestra, with Augustin Hadelich as the guest, wowing us with a thoroughly clean and classical reading of Mozart 5, complete with a supple and warm sound. The audience was in love with it, and he came back to impress and endear himself to us with Paganini's 21st caprice. I was also delighted to say hi to him during intermission, and he was as kind as ever. Came back to Indy to much distress---the Colts lost, and even though I care little for that ridiculous sport, I despise the Patriots and find their coach to be a despicable human being. I also got a call to return August to his owner, which has me thoroughly depressed. However, I did get to act like a bass nerd with August's owner (my former teacher) and we sat around and played excerpts together, which was encouraging to me. This week are a few concerts at University of Indianapolis, then Saturday night Leila Josefowicz is soloing with the ISO. The next weekend is the next batch of Mahler, at the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. Also I recently received an email from a member of the Gustav Mahler Society of Chicago, the Chicago Mahlerites. I will be sending off my check tomorrow to join this group. Also, I recently picked up the book that everyone else has read---Alex Ross's "The Rest is Noise". (about time I did that, I know).
I kinda feel like that was a drive-by post. But oh well. Short and to the point. (something I rarely am. Feels interesting.)
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Meet August, the lovely bass on loan to me
The definition of August is something worthy of awe, reverence. Something of supreme dignity, or grandeur. So I named this bass August. (also the middle name of his real owner, so that tied in nicely.) This bass is the first to ever really fit me as a player, so I'm rather attached to this instrument.
He's an Anton Krutz creation, and playing on him is wonderful. I know this is only his "headshot" , but what a beauty! He has a 41.5 inch string length, which is perfect for me, and I can reach far far far down the fingerboard--further down than I ever have in my life on any other bass. I think when it comes time for me to give it back, I will flee the country with it.
My very academic approach to the bass--a little bit of this, a little bit of that
I have been out for a couple of days, due to sickness (have I mentioned that before? I am searching for sympathy) and I have been watching bass videos. Yes, I've obviously been very bored. I have a distinct love for my instrument, for sure, but it stops at certain points. Videos are one of them.
I've been checking ones out about technique, and different ways of dividing up the fingerboard, who uses what fingering and how and why and does that fingering change when the moon is in the waxing vs waning period and what do I do when I have to scratch my nose with my left hand while I play---what fingering is best for that? So watching these videos led me to this conclusion (and I'm not dissin' the people who made these videos or whoever is in them, just to let you know):
I don't give crap.
That's right folks! I could care less what technique I use! For all I know, I use the Santa Claus technique. I am also equally uninterested in knowing what position I am in, and my methodology of fingerings is called "Does it work well for you? If so, use that fingering".
I see the value of this stuff for when you are teaching. You have to have some sort of plan of action when you are teaching beginners through high school (give or take when in high school, depending on your student). After that though, in general, it's not about what school you were brought up in (Simandl, Rabbath, whatever), it's what you do with your way of going out the bass.
I grew up with the Simandl menthod, which I think is cool. I dig it. I didn't think it was cool at the time, as I never practiced it, so let me publicly apologize to Peter Hansen. right here on this blog---sorry Peter, I was a bum of a student. (but I have turned out to be a jewel, haven't I?) Moving right along....I think other methods are cool too. I don't get in to discussions about which is better than the other. Then again, I don't really get in to discussions with people about bass playing too often. I avoid that as much as possible.
What I'm more interested in discussing is why so many people (teachers) are intent on teaching their one method and believe that one method is true salvation for bass playing. This doesn't just go for what method you use, Simandl, Vance, etc etc. But also for how one physically plays the bass. Your student comes in, and he/she/it sits on a stool. Quite comfy doing that as well. Are you really going to convince him/her/it that standing is best for them, with the endpin way out? Students when coming to college are malleable, impressionable, and eager to please. So if some student has been standing all their life playing german bow and the teacher says "no! sit your ass down on a stool, and here---take this french bow, you'll like it much better" chances are that the average student will object slightly at first, and then give in. Why not work with your student? Why change them, if what they are doing is NOT detrimental to their playing?
Why tell your student who has grown up on Simandl to drop Simandl ideas and embrace new ones? I think it's absolutely possible to combine those schools of thoughts---I say because I use stereotypical Simandl fingerings, and I throw in a dash of pivoting as well, a la Rabbath style. Both ideas can coexist at the same time in a bassists mind and hand, and they can coexist in a most productive way.
That's basically my beef with bass teachers. The one way or the highway attitude. Thank goodness Mr. Bransby and Mr. Hurst weren't like that. Mr. Bransby gave me tons of fingerings for stuff (some being the most genius I've ever seen, and would have never ever thought of) and his always seemed like a combo of methods. Mr. Hurst---well, he's a genius. He could take whatever, and teach me it and make it work for me. He could teach me to use butter for rosin, and somehow it'd end up working or something. Point is, neither of tried to change how I sat, my ideas on fingering (to pivot, or not to pivot?) but instead helped me to develop GOOD fingerings, no matter how they were classified. They taught me how to play in an orchestra, and did their best to mold me in to a good musician. I would never single out one method as my mode of operation, and if someone asked me about it, I'd say "eh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that."
I've been checking ones out about technique, and different ways of dividing up the fingerboard, who uses what fingering and how and why and does that fingering change when the moon is in the waxing vs waning period and what do I do when I have to scratch my nose with my left hand while I play---what fingering is best for that? So watching these videos led me to this conclusion (and I'm not dissin' the people who made these videos or whoever is in them, just to let you know):
I don't give crap.
That's right folks! I could care less what technique I use! For all I know, I use the Santa Claus technique. I am also equally uninterested in knowing what position I am in, and my methodology of fingerings is called "Does it work well for you? If so, use that fingering".
I see the value of this stuff for when you are teaching. You have to have some sort of plan of action when you are teaching beginners through high school (give or take when in high school, depending on your student). After that though, in general, it's not about what school you were brought up in (Simandl, Rabbath, whatever), it's what you do with your way of going out the bass.
I grew up with the Simandl menthod, which I think is cool. I dig it. I didn't think it was cool at the time, as I never practiced it, so let me publicly apologize to Peter Hansen. right here on this blog---sorry Peter, I was a bum of a student. (but I have turned out to be a jewel, haven't I?) Moving right along....I think other methods are cool too. I don't get in to discussions about which is better than the other. Then again, I don't really get in to discussions with people about bass playing too often. I avoid that as much as possible.
What I'm more interested in discussing is why so many people (teachers) are intent on teaching their one method and believe that one method is true salvation for bass playing. This doesn't just go for what method you use, Simandl, Vance, etc etc. But also for how one physically plays the bass. Your student comes in, and he/she/it sits on a stool. Quite comfy doing that as well. Are you really going to convince him/her/it that standing is best for them, with the endpin way out? Students when coming to college are malleable, impressionable, and eager to please. So if some student has been standing all their life playing german bow and the teacher says "no! sit your ass down on a stool, and here---take this french bow, you'll like it much better" chances are that the average student will object slightly at first, and then give in. Why not work with your student? Why change them, if what they are doing is NOT detrimental to their playing?
Why tell your student who has grown up on Simandl to drop Simandl ideas and embrace new ones? I think it's absolutely possible to combine those schools of thoughts---I say because I use stereotypical Simandl fingerings, and I throw in a dash of pivoting as well, a la Rabbath style. Both ideas can coexist at the same time in a bassists mind and hand, and they can coexist in a most productive way.
That's basically my beef with bass teachers. The one way or the highway attitude. Thank goodness Mr. Bransby and Mr. Hurst weren't like that. Mr. Bransby gave me tons of fingerings for stuff (some being the most genius I've ever seen, and would have never ever thought of) and his always seemed like a combo of methods. Mr. Hurst---well, he's a genius. He could take whatever, and teach me it and make it work for me. He could teach me to use butter for rosin, and somehow it'd end up working or something. Point is, neither of tried to change how I sat, my ideas on fingering (to pivot, or not to pivot?) but instead helped me to develop GOOD fingerings, no matter how they were classified. They taught me how to play in an orchestra, and did their best to mold me in to a good musician. I would never single out one method as my mode of operation, and if someone asked me about it, I'd say "eh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that."
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