Weekend Update: The Music Backlog

The holidays are over and it’s time for us tired old musicians to return to the pile of stuff we’re forever working on.  Here’s what’s in my pile:

1.  Read (actually, RE-read) piano trios with the girlz on Monday.  On the docket:  Dvorak (“Dumky”) and the Gwyneth Walker riff on “Be Thou My Vision.”

2.  Schedule a time to pick up on the Poulenc flute sonata with Kathi.  We performed the second movement at a recital last summer; now we’re working on the whole thing.  Which I love.  Here is the composer himself with Rampal:

3.  Most of the Schubert piano-four-hands music tends towards the dopey, but my friend Larry and I agree that the Fantasia is an exception.  We try it, we balk, we have tea…We need to try again.

4.  Schedule time (again) for the Brahms 2nd cello sonata with Miranda.  Sigh.  It is so beautiful.  And so hard.  We’ve been hurling ourselves at it for years.

5.  Try the Donizetti, Scarlatti, whatever else with the piano-soprano-flute combo.  What else is in the repertoire?  We’re running out of ideas…

6.  Find a really huge, beautiful arrangement of the hymn tune Kingsfold.  Or make one.   Like this guy:

7. Chip away at getting my CDs onto the computer.

8.  Then onto the iPod.

9.  Keep looking for the New Piano.  Gulp.

10. Practice.  Bach inventions.  Mozart sonatas.  Beethoven sonatas (maybe some of the later ones, even…).  Czerny.  Ravel.  And so on.  With great love.

Weekend Update: The Twelve Days of Ennui

My friend, Miranda, is militant about the fact that Christmas starts on Christmas Day and goes for twelve days.  She is one of the last holdouts in the USA, and must have a pretty lonely time of it.  The rest of us are so exhausted and sick of the whole thing by now that we can hardly stand it.  Here is my take:

1.  First Day of Christmas, The Rush to Pick up Shopworn Wrapping Paper:  Still dazed with gluttony, otherwise savvy shoppers rush in huge packs to tiny gift shops to strip the shelves of all the Christmas stuff that didn’t sell before Christmas.  Then they wearily pack it all home and misplace it, necessitating other weary trips the week before the next Christmas.

2.  Second Day of Christmas, Facing the Mess:  Piles of boxes and wrapping paper and sweaters you will never wear.  They have to go somewhere.  Huge garbage bags.  Much sighing.

3.  Third Day of Christmas, Leftover Fatigue:  How about another ham sandwich?  Turkey Croquettes?  Scatter stale stollen crumbs outside for the birds?  And what about that watery jello?

4.  Fourth Day of Christmas, Cookie Rage:  Am I the only one who does this?  Bake a gazillion different kinds of Christmas cookies.  Meanly hoard them and scowl at anyone sneaking a sample before the big day.  Prepare several trays for Deserving Others, then present piles to guests after a totally overwhelming meal.  Nobody wants them.  Now, on Day Four, the cookies are piled up and getting stale and NOBODY WANTS THEM.  Hmmmm…

5.  Fifth Day of Christmas, Poinsettia Neglect Begins:  I love dark red poinsettias as Christmas decoration.  I’ve learned to buy the cheap ones at the grocery store, though, because of Day Five.  Now I’m tired of them and start to let them die the slow deaths of neglect.  I should be ashamed.

6.  Sixth Day of Christmas,  New Years’ Eve Responsibilities:  I must have resolutions.  I must strive to Improve Myself in the New Year.  I must attend a party.  I must bring a platter of Something Delicious.  I must try to have a positive attitude.

7.  Seventh Day of Christmas, Ultimate Torpor and/or Regret:  We all ate too much, drank too much, lied, flirted, argued, gossiped, and otherwise muddled our way through the past year and finished it off with a celebration that alternated between gratuitous self-congratulation and unbearable self-examination.  But next year will be better.

8.  Eighth Day of Christmas, The Diet:  No more needs be said.

9.  Ninth Day of Christmas, We Turn to Jazz:  Done with plainsong, chant, carol, cantata, oratorio, Mass, and pageant, we turn to Ella, Frank, and Miles.  Like a glass of cold water.  Ahhhhhhhh.

10.  Tenth Day of Christmas, It is Only Winter:  Remember the romance of the White Christmas?  Right about now there will be another snowstorm (or, more likely, ice storm) and we will remember that there is a lot of winter yet to come.  Without the romance.

11.  Eleventh Day of Christmas, Oh.  Christmas….treeeeeeeeeeeee:  See the majestic fir, dropping its dried needles all over the carpet.  Or see the fake tree, once glorious, now in the way of all the electrical outlets.  I once knew a women who hated to decorate for Christmas but loved taking all the ornaments down and putting them away.  I wish I still had her phone number.

12.  Twelfth Day of Christmas, The Wreath Police Are At Your Door:  It’s your business if you want to keep your shaggy old tree up until Valentine’s Day, but I REALLY can’t stand the wreath-up-until-it-starts-to-rot bit.  Take the wreath down.  Right now.  Please.

Today is a gray, rainy day in Vermont and I just ate the last stale cinnamon roll.   OK, maybe I’m a bit cranky.   Time for a long winter’s nap…

Have a great week!

Weekend Update: Top Ten Holiday Gigs of All Time

I ‘ve been playing the piano for 45 years now and for at least 40 of those years, I’ve done Christmas gigs.   I’ve been surprised to learn how many people crave the “family ’round the old spinet, singing carols” experience.  I guess I’ve been luck to have always had it.  These gigs, though, stand out as most memorable over the years:

1.  Miss Hegland’s Christmas Tea, 1967:  Miss Hegland was a florist who lived in a small bungelow attached to a greenhouse.  She was, I now realize, one of our small Minnesota town’s patrons of the arts.  She hosted a tea every Christmastime to showcase young musicians.  I performed for her several times and was completely enchanted by the experience.  Her house smelled wonderful, of narcissus and Scotch pine, and every corner was decorated for Christmas.  Back then you couldn’t  just load up on ornaments at Target.  Hers were hand embroidered, or crocheted, or fashioned of flowers.  I especially loved a little spiraling mobile of hand-carved wooden angels.

2.  Accompanying Marshall Newton on “For He is Like a Refiner’s Fire,” 1969:  Mr. Newton was my junior high school boyfriend’s dad.  He was a true operatic baritone and gave me my first shot at Messiah in public.  I’ve since played the whole thing many, many times but he helped break the ice.

3.  “Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies,” 1970:  The first and only time I’ve ever performed on the celeste (that tinkly bell-sounding thing–it’s actually a little keyboard attached to chimes).

4.   Holiday tour of “Godspell,” 1972:  The first time I did a tour of an entire production with a BAND.  This was a very big deal.  If you were in the Greater Minneapolis area during that time I’m sure you will never forget our whirwind rampage of three major Lutheran churches in four nights…

5.  Christmas Caroling at Lutheran Deaconess Hospital, 1974-1977:  EXACTLY like the picture above.  I mean EXACTLY.  There were pianos on every ward and the patients really loved hearing Christmas carols.  Those who could, sang along.

6.   Christmas Concert, Community Chorus, 1981 :  Fast forward–I graduated nursing school, worked for several years, moved to Vermont, and had a baby.  My big return to performing was arranged to include several strategic intermissions so I could nurse the baby.  Went like clockwork.

7.  Accompanying Randall Thompson’s “Nativity According to St. Luke,” 1993:  I played for a large, well-organized community chorus for many years.  This production, though, was no fun.  The drama was staged in front of a semi-concealed chorus; I had to play behind a scrim.  Two very memorable details:  As I prepared to walk on, for the first time in my performance career I felt connected to all the pianists who had played the work before and realized not all of them had enjoyed it.  It was also a notable performance in that I did not have to get my hair done.  No one could see me.

8.  Christmas Caroling, Gill Home, 2003:  Walter’s mother lived at the Gill Home the last year of her life.  I am glad I was able to play for her that Christmas.  She died a few weeks later.

9. Chamber Concert, 2005:  Our chamber group had prepared, among other things, a Mozart piano trio that year.  I was seriously injured in October and could not do the Mozart, but we substituted a few carols and soldiered on.  I have never played in such pain.

10.  Christmas Eve Services, 2008:  For the first three years after my injury, I doubted I’d ever perform again.  I worked very hard on physical therapy and devised my own “piano therapy” program, mostly involving Czerny and Bach inventions.  Last Christmas I returned to a gig as a church pianist and gratefully played the old carols again.

I’ll be playing them all this week, and I hope for many years to come.  God Rest Ye Merry, Gentles…

 

Weekend Update: Yuletide Mysteries

1.  Why, when I went to put my winter boots on for the first time this season, did I find them full of DOG BISCUITS?

2.  How many times has the set of stainless steel cheese knives (that we received from Patty, the one with the crush on my husband) been “regifted”?

3.  Though I know he plowed the driveway and plucked his check off the back door, I still have never really seen Ronnie Farnsworth.  What DOES he look like?

4.  What is the etiquette for Seasons Greetings these days?  Cheesy Christmas letter only?  Letter in a card?  Card with handwritten note to EVERYONE?  Email?  Nothing?  TEXTING???

5.  Is it really all right to put everybody’s gifts in those cunning little gift bags?  I hate to wrap presents as much as the next guy, but I think all those bags under the tree make the place look like a bus station.

6.  And where IS the tape?

7.  And why do I save all those teensy little 3×9-inch pieces of gift wrap from year to year?

8.  Why does the car always need some kind of major repair two weeks before Christmas? (yes, there is an Ominous Sound…)

9.  How would we ever make it through the winter without all the lights, prayers, and feasting?

10. O Magnum Mysterium:  “O great mystery and wondrous sacrament, that animals should see the newborn Lord, lying in the manger!  Blessed Virgin, whose womb was deemed worthy to bear Christ the Lord. Alleluia!  (Responsory for the Office of Matins on Christmas Day)

Weekend Update: Less is More

How about a Saturday wrap-up feature?  We’ll try one and see how it goes…

This week,  with Christmas bearing down on us, I’d like to feature the Less is More category. 

1.  The Wexford Carol, as recorded by YoYo Ma and Alison Krause (link above) is great studio porn, but besides that, a good example of talented musicians using restraint.  Nobody is showing off.  The cello line is simplicity itself.   BAGPIPE WARNING (though I would call their use “tasteful”…)  BTW:  I’m using a nice arrangement of this carol next week as a prelude.  I love this tune.

2.  There is no snow in Vermont.  At this very moment the sky is gray and threatening.  We’ll see.  Unlike the merry band in “White Christmas,” I am not lamenting.

3.  My ruthless closet-cleaning spree continues.  I bought a new camel-hair blazer and IMMEDIATELY threw the old blazer in the give-away bag.  No bulging drawers, no jammed closet racks.  It can be done.

4.  Though we did spring for a new TV (you had to pound on the old one to get the color from all green to several other hues), and we were briefly tempted to subscribe to a cable service, we have resisted.  I spent a long time on-line with a cable representative trying to find out exactly which channels were available with the various subscription plans and eventually had to admit to myself that I really didn’t care.  So, dear reader, rest assured.  As of today, we still don’t have cable TV.

5.  Walter and I have decided that since we have more than enough STUFF and rarely deprive ourselves of anything we really, really want, we will not buy Christmas gifts for one another this year.  HOWEVER:  my birthday (which is December 25) is exempt from this restriction.  Lavish birthday gifts are always in order.

6.  I have cast a critical eye on my Christmas baking plans.  With the advice of my dear daughter, Sonika, I have come to realize there are Christmas cookies I bake every year that nobody likes.  The 7-layer Bars, Marzipan Bars, and anything that might contain raisins have been removed from the lineup.

7.  I’m done experimenting and looking for “weekly specials.”  From now on, this is a Starbucks House Blend ONLY household.

8.  The Christmas card list is being relentlessly pruned.  I will focus more on writing some meaningful letters and less on the bulk mailing business.

9.  {see #6, above}  Nobody likes fruitcake, either.

10.  This is the toughest and is still “fluid”:  I’m lobbying for a pre-lit artificial tree.  Neither of us is physically able to wrestle with a Fraiser Fir this year and there is no way we could dig through the attic for the “shit of Christmas past” (as Sonika calls the decorations).  This morning Walter is still muttering about “garlands for the front porch,” but I can see that I’m wearing him down.  I only had to mention step-ladder morbidity once or twice before he got the picture.

All is calm, all is bright…

Have a merry week!