In the Flow

Music helps me stay "in the flow". Recently I had a disagreeable task - - sorting through three file drawers of piano music, which was in no particular order at all! Luckily I had my new headphones with a very long cord. I listened to music as I worked and it kept me going forward, until - - VOILA! -- it was done!

The Woman and the Young Man (A true story)

The woman sat in the great hall of music in Geneva, as she did every year, watching the international piano competition. The next contestant approached the piano. He was young, about twenty, and rather "dumpy" looking. The woman had no expectations about this unknown young pianist from South America. He certainly didn't look very exciting. Suddenly, he began to play a Rachmaninov Piano Concerto. As soon as his fingers touched the keyboard, the magic happened! The woman felt tingly all over. She was captivated by this young man's playing! Indeed, he won the competition that year. The woman went back stage to greet the young man. Perhaps he was pleased to meet this woman, who eventually became his number one fan.

The young South American went on to begin his concert career, performing all over Europe. The woman often traveled to one of the cities where he was playing to watch his performance. They became personal friends despite the difference in their ages and nationalities. She stands by his side, supporting him with her admiration and affection. Now the young man has become almost middle-aged, with a lovely wife and children. The woman is passing through her 70's, while mourning the death of her beloved husband, seeking solace in the beauty of music and taking pleasure in this remarkable musical friendship.

My First Piano Lesson

Night after night, as I lay in my bed waiting for sleep, I would hear my mother playing the piano. Oh, it was so beautiful! I wanted to learn how to play! I begged her, from the age of 4 or 5, "Please, Mom, please teach me the piano!" "No," she answered. "We must wait until you are 8 years old and you can read very well." I was very sad that I had to wait.

Finally, the day came for my first lesson! I was so excited. Soon I could play like Mom!

Here is a picture of my first piano book, the one Mom put on the piano for me that day.


"Oh, wow", I thought. "This is going to be great", as I saw the proficient mouse playing deftly with two hands!

I opened the book to the first picture. Papa Bear says, "Who has been sitting in my chair?"


And now, for the first page of music. "At last, I will learn to play like Mom!", I thought. I was very excited about this. But, what? Oh no! As my mother showed me how to play the first page, I complained, "NO, MOM! This is not what I want to play! I want to play like you!" She calmly explained that this was the way to start out. Later on, I would learn to play with two hands. What a disappointment! What a little dummy I was!! Hahahaha!

How I Met Some Famous Musicians

One day, I spoke to the famous conductor, Sir Georg Solti, who conducted the Chicago Symphony Orchestra for many years. I had attended an "Open Rehearsal". Arriving early, I was able to sit in a box seat and I had an amazing view of the orchestra. After the rehearsal, I left. As I was leaving, I realized I had left my knit hat in the auditorium. So I scrambled back in there and got it. This time as I left Orchestra Hall I saw Georg Solti, about to get in a limousine, right in front of the Hall. There was no one around at all. I ran over to him and asked him for his autograph. He gave me a very stern look of annoyance, but he scribbled his name on the paper I gave him and flung it back to me without a word.



My next experience was much more pleasant. I met the great cellist and conductor, Mstislav Rostropovich. It was after a concert in which he conducted the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. I had been back stage (down in the lower level, where the musicians gather and where the dressing rooms are) for a memorial get-together for our former conductor who had died the previous year. This concert was played in his memory (Perry Crafton, conductor of the Symphony of Oak Park & River Forest and a first violinist with the CSO). I left the gathering with my husband and daughter and we walked down the hall. Suddenly, I saw him: Rostropovich was walking down the narrow hallway, too, accompanied by a young assistant. I ran after him, calling, "Maestro"! He turned around and welcomed me. He signed my program. I looked into his face. He was the very same height as I am! So, short for a man, hahaha! I looked into his very blue eyes and I couldn't believe it! I suddenly thought, "Here I am in front of one of the greatest musicians in the world." And then, and then, and then . . . . . . he kissed me on both cheeks! I'm not making this up! My husband and daughter saw it.

Later, I attended another concert which he conducted, another concert of the CSO. Rostropovich was apparently very pleased with the performance. He went around the entire orchestra, kissing all of them on the cheeks, as he had done to me! What a guy! Very warm!! But, when I saw that, the kisses he gave to me were less remarkable, actually! Hahahaha!

Joza Karas Has Died

Joza Karas, Czech musician who lived in the U.S. since 1958, has died. He was a wonderful violinist and conductor, who lived in Bloomfield, Connecticut, a suburb of Hartford. It was my pleasure to meet Mr. Karas, at his home, because my parents knew him and adored him. Later, I bought his book, "The Music of Terezin", which describes the music-making at a Nazi concentration camp in Czechoslovaki during World War II. Mr. Karas researched music written by composers who were held in concentration camps. He discovered over 50 such compositions. He formed a string quartet whose main purpose was to perform works which were composed in the concentration camps.

From the New York Times newspaper of December 6, 2008:

"Joza Karas, a musician and teacher who became a sleuth in his quarter-century search for the music and stories of composers who managed to do masterly work in a Nazi concentration camp, died on Friday in Bloomfield, Conn. He was 82. . . ."

To read more, go here: Article About Joza Karas

Here is another obituary from The Washington Post

One of the works he conducted at the American premiere in 1975 is called "Brundibar", a children's opera in two acts. Later, Mr. Karas conducted a version in Czechoslovakia, which is published as a CD. Originall, in the camp, "Brundibar" was used as a show piece for visiting dignitaries of the Red Cross to show them how wonderful everything was at the camp. However, there was a subversive message in the story: The starving children decided to imitate Brundibar, the organ grinder, in order to get money. But, Brundibar stole the money back. He representated Hitler. In the end, the children were victorious and Brundibar was vanquished.

This is a picture of the children who performed Brundibar at the Nazi camp.

Here is an excerpt from the Brundibar (Act 1 Scene 1)

Merry Christmas!

Here's a new version by the a capella group, "Straight No Chaser":

Merry Christmas!!

Christmas Music

It used to be that I just had to hear certain pieces of music every Christmas. These songs were connections to my long ago past, to my childhood, to my teenage years. Some of these pieces included: Britten's A Ceremony of Carols, Menotti's Amahl and the Night Visitors, The Carol of the Bells, Silent Night, I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas, and so on. This Christmas, however, I haven't sought out any of those things . . . am I getting old? Am I getting "beyond Christmas"?

Watching People's Faces As They Listen to Music

Occasionally, during a musical performance of any kind, I sneak a peek at the faces of the audience. There is a certain look of intense concentration and absorption in the music that can be seen on these faces. It's impossible to tell much by their expressions, but it's easy to see that they have been transported in some way . . .

In Woody Allen's most recent movie, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, a man and a woman go out together in the evening. They end up listening to a guitar player. There are extended sequences of shots of their faces as they listen to the music. The music expresses their growing attraction for each other and you can see the emotion on their faces as they listen to the music. For me, it was a memorable scene, unlike any other I have seen in a film.

Listening to the Beatles

This morning, I lay awake in my bed at 6:00 a.m. - - too early to get up, I thought. I turned on my iPod and listened to Magical Mystery Tour. Suddenly, I flashed back to the late 60's, early 70's! It was a world without personal computers, without CDs or iPods. It was a vinyl LP world! It was a world where you sat in your living room with friends who were getting high and you floated downstream on a sonic river filled with glowing images and alternative universes composed of flowers, colors, feelings.

Needless to say, the Beatles introduced us to an "Absurdist Universe" with such songs as I Am the Walrus in which the words and images made no sense at all!

12 Days of Christmas, Screwed Up

Last night, at St. Michael's Church in Chicago's Old Town, we played in a small orchestra for Handel's Messiah (again!). The Chicago Children's Choir performed during the second half of the program. I was brought to tears by the beauty of their singing, of course! And I was brought to laughter by their rendition of The 12 Days of Christmas (a "screwed-up version"^^).

This evening, I went on YouTube and found many videos of this same "screwed-up" song! I couldn't get enough of it, can you? I ended up with "Straight No Chaser" and I found America's answer to the Wise Guys! (And I found out that they had a concert in Chicago 2 days ago, but 2 days ago I didn't know they existed! Such is the irony of life!)

Straight No Chaser's video was removed. However, go to my blog entry "Merry Christmas" to hear their version.


SEE MANY VERSIONS OF "TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS - screwed up" HERE - Each one is a little different!

TIP: These may load slowly, so push "Play", then push "Pause". Watch the red bar fill up somewhat before you push "Play" again, so you can hear it continuously. A little patience pays off here.

Tibet Chant

This evening we watched Kundun, a film about the Dalai Lama's life, directed by Martin Scorsese in 1997. I heard the Tibetan chant in this movie and remembered how fascinated I have always been by this kind of chant.

As I listened to the sound track, I remembered seeing the Tibetan monks make a sand painting at the Field Museum in Chicago, which was later scraped up and placed into a jar (the colors ran together and produced brown sand) which were tossed in the waters of Lake Michigan -- the impermanence of all things.

Listen to this:

Creativity (and hard work)

It's all well and good to be creative, but it takes a lot of hard work to complete a project, such as composing a song and then recording it. The first few takes might be rough so it takes determination and patience to continue working on it to make the best possible version.

In this vein, see my friend's YouTube series of 6 songs, all of which he wrote and recorded: http://www.youtube.com/joakimbertil

Soaring on the Waves of Music

Playing in today's orchestra concert - - soaring melodies of the first vioins - - feeling like part of an ocean wave - - gliding, soaring higher and higher . . .




as we play, plunging down the crest of the wave - - thinking about how we have to feel the music together, how we use all our visual cues and aural cues to soar in unison, as we play in one shining unit to create a beautiful melody.

Christmas Carolers At Our Door

Imagine our surprise when the door bell rang at about 8:30 p.m. this evening - - there was our neighbor, Laura, with her children and some others, singing carols to us in the frosty, snowy evening!

How rewarding to know that an old tradition still lives!

The Sound of the Organ

"He reached the church just before 7 p.m. It was already quite full, but he found a space by one of the side aisles, and watched the people still streaming into the church. . . . .

The sound of the organ shocked him. It was as if the whole church was about to be shattered by the sheer power of the music. Wallander remembered an occasion when, as a child, his father had taken him to a church. The organ music had frightened him so much that he’d burst into tears. Now, recognized something soothing in the music. Bach has no homeland, he thought. His music belongs everywhere. Wallander let the music seep into his consciousness."

From The Dogs of Riga
by Henning Mankell
A Kurt Wallander detective novel

Swedish version: Hundarna i Riga, 1999
English translation 2001

The Gift

It's my pleasure to know a young composer, a singer/pianist/songwriter. Recently, he wondered what to give to his lady for Christmas. It came to him -- a song! This lucky young woman gets a song, composed just for her!

The Voice

A person's singing voice is a very intimate thing. It takes a great deal of confidence for most people to sing in public because it's like exposing something very personal to public view.

In addition, there are cultural differences regarding singing . . in Japan, for example, group singing is very common, whereas in the U.S. it is rare, although group singing was more common in the past, before mp3 players and CDs. And, people from other countries may be less shy about singing in public.

One of the most fundamental things to know about music is that all music can be seen as generated from singing. In other words, instruments are merely extensions of the voice. In fact, in order to play an instrument well, it's necessary to use vocal-like phrases and "breathe" the music.

So, singing in public takes courage, but singing itself is absolutely the most wonderful way to express musical feeling and personal emotions. There is nothing standing in the way . . . the music pours from your heart and mind right out of your throat!

As for me, I have always loved to sing, but my feelings about my own voice have changed throughout the years. As a youngster, I loved to sing. We sang all the time - - at church, at home, at camp, at school, in the car. Eventually, I sang in choral groups at school and at church. My junior high school chorus (under Mrs. Gilmore) and my high school chorus (under Mrs. Kilpatrick) were exceptionally fine groups and I enjoyed them very much. My high school choral teacher even let me conduct the chorus in a concert. I also accompanied the chorus at times on the piano. I didn't have formal training, but I was instructed on how to breathe and to never force the voice. I loved singing! It was more immediate and easier than playing the piano or the violin.

In college, I had many wonderful choral experiences. I sang in the large chorus which performed major works, such as Brahms' Requiem and Handel's Messiah. I was also selected for the small choir that toured throughout the midwest and Eastern U.S., ending up at Carnegie Hall in New York. We sang the Liebeslieder Walzer by Brahms and I developed a fondness for the German language.

The two hardest choral pieces I ever sang were: Bach's B minor Mass and Schoenberg's De Profundis. The latter piece used a 12 tone row, which we had to be able to sing backwards and upside down, etc. It also used "sprechstimme" and it was in Hebrew!

And so, during high school and college, my voice was in great shape for singing lots of choral music, never solos. Finally, I took "Class Voice" and received vocal instruction from an actual voice teacher.

I was never really happy with the way my voice sounded by itself, even though I sang reasonably in tune and clearly. But, as a music teacher in elementary school, I was pleased that I could sing in a very simple, clear way for the children and I felt it was the best example for them. At that point, I was fairly happy with my voice in a classroom setting.

As time went on, as it always does, my voice began to deteriorate, alas. I lost my upper range, which had never been that high anyway. In retirement, I noticed that I was having a few vocal problems. My doctor sent me to a specialist. He stuck a tube down my throat to take pictures of my vocal chords. Ugh! He said there was some evidence of "acid reflux" and "post-nasal" drip and I received medications for those things. Also, he recommended "vocal therapy". I loved my vocal therapy sessions. The therapist helped me develop my breath control and learn how to support my voice and pitch my voice at the proper level. This helped a lot. She advised me not to sing, oh so sorry. Now when I work with students, occasionally, it's all ok except I really can't sing the higher notes at all.