I found a really nice, jazzy arrangement of “Go, Tell It On the Mountain,” and I started working on it today. However, it’s pretty difficult and it will take a LOT of practice to get it presentable by the first week of January (the last time we can get credit for learning Christmas songs). That means that if I can carve out time to practice at all, my family will be hearing an awful lot of “Go, Tell. . . ” in the near future.” Maybe I should move from the computer to the piano now. = )
Archive for the 'Piano' Category
I had asked our boys on Thursday night to set out all the dress clothes they would be utilizing for the recital on Friday evening. Andrew did so. Josiah did not.
Jessica and I were going to leave at 5:50 PM, as I was supposed to be at the Methodist church (recital site) by 6:05 PM. I needed to iron my clothes, plus Andrew’s clothes; and since I chose to be a nice mommy, I thought I should pick out and iron some clothes for Josiah as well. I hadn’t heard from them all day, but I figured they would come scooting in – tired, dirty, and smelly – around 5:15 PM.
That being the case, I started my ironing task at 4:45 PM by trying to find some dress clothes for Josiah. One wouldn’t think that would be so hard, but Josiah’s wardrobe organization scheme was a bit difficult for me to follow. Two baskets of clothes (level of cleanliness undeterminable) were positioned on the floor of his room, and beside them, several heaps of clothes (of also unknown cleanliness). Wading through the fabric, I pulled up a pair of inside out black slacks and a black dress shirt and decided I’d iron them in their present condition.
Down at the ironing board, I did just that, and while I was working – at 5:05 PM – my phone rang. Scott said all was well and they had had a great time on the river. I asked where he was and he replied, “a few miles south of Harrison.” Now, this could mean anything. If I said that I were a few miles south of Harrison, it would mean I was within 10 miles of that city and therefore about an hour from home. However, I suspected my menfolk might be quite a bit farther from Harrison, and Scott just didn’t want me to panic. = )
Scott asked if I could bring Andrew’s recital clothes to the church. Yes, I could, but what about Josiah’s clothes? Well, could I bring them, too? Yes. And could I bring Josiah’s razor? Yes. Would they perhaps be needing deodorant, clean underwear, toothbrushes? Yes, yes, and yes. I strongly resisted the temptation to ask when they might arrive at the church. I hung up and finished ironing. Jessica helped me collect the various items for the boys and pack them in a duffle bag.
The timer dinged and dinner came out of the oven. Jessica had prepared a nice supper of creamy cheese potatoes with sausage, but with the two of us now racing around and the guys arrival time unknown, it didn’t look like anyone would be home to eat it.
While I put on a face and got dressed, there was much calling back and forth between Scott and Jessica. One call asked us to leave Josiah’s clothes and toiletries at the house. Another call asked us to pull off at the Wal-Mart exit and pick up Andrew who would be stading by the side of the road. There was a request from Josiah to wear his black jeans instead of his black dress pants (which were not clean, as I had suspected), but I said that I wasn’t going to wade back through those piles and he’d have to wear what I had ironed.
And on it went.
Jessica and I dashed out the door at 5:55 PM, and I sped to Branson. Whipping off the highway at 6:05, we picked up Andrew, and I told him to start changing in the van. As I crested the next hill doing 72 mph in a 60 mph zone, I spied a motorcycle cop on the shoulder. I hit the brake hard and skittered down to 62 mph as I zoomed past him. Good night, what stress!
The three of us arrived at the church and got our respective acts together.
Josiah showed up shortly before 6:30 PM, and when I walked out at 6:43 PM (prior to playing my monster piece to start the recital at 6:45 PM), I saw Scott on the second row.
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Later, I got the full scoop from the guys. They were on the river and having a grand time, when they asked some other guy what time it was. “Ten till four,” he called out, and that was when things got crazy. They paddled fiercely to their take-out point, loaded the canoe and kayak, and began the long, steep drive up a dirt road toward the highway. Once on pavement, the boys claim that Scott broke several land speed records.
After handing off Andrew to us at 6:05 PM, Scott and Josiah faced a ten-minute drive home, and a fifteen-minute drive back to the church. They arrived at the church a little BEFORE 6:30 PM, having gone home, disconnected the canoe trailer, shaved, showered, donned dress clothes, AND zipped past that same motorcycle cop. They both looked quite handsome, and no one would have known the many gallons of aderenaline their bodies had produced in the past two-and-a-half hours.
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At the recital, we played as follows:
Patty – “They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love”
Andrew – “Magical Forest”
Jessica – “O Come, All Ye Faithful”
Andrew – “Fiesta Days”
Patty – “Allegro Scherzando”
Andrew and Patty – “Summer Samba”
Jessica – “Sonatina”
Jessica and Patty – “Maple Leaf Rag”
I was nervous enough for all three of us, but we each played our best, and I believe God was glorified in that. It was fun to work hard and do well. It was also a special blessing to have my parents there to see and hear us play. They drove up that day for one night, just to attend the recital.
Just before the grand finale (our “Maple Leaf Rag” duet), a number of students, including Jessica and me, received the much-prized “gold medallion,” which is awarded only to those students who complete all ten areas of achievement. It can be done by most students just by working very diligently, but extra effort was required on my part for the “memory” area. Memorizing ten songs (even simple ones) seemed like an insurmountable obstacle, but I finally did it!
Then, at the VERY end of the evening, trophies were awarded. Everything one does related to the Walker Music Studio earns points, and of the thirty-odd students, the ten with the most points at the end of the school year each receive a trophy. The tenth place trophy is maybe six inches high, and they gradually increase in height up to the first place one, which is over two feet tall!
Andrew was close to trophy realm, coming in at 12th place in the points standings. I think he’ll be working toward a trophy next year. = ) There was much eager anticipation, neck-craning, and breath-holding, as the final ten names were announced. Because any age student can earn just as many points as anyone else, there were some first- and second-graders up there with some pretty big trophies. But in the end (drum roll, please), the #1 student with more points than any other student in the studio was. . .
Jessica Roberts!!!I was so proud and happy that I cried.
This afternoon Andrew, Jessica, and I played in BAMTA’s Fall Recital at the Old Stone Church. I suspect I am biased, but I must say that both Andrew’s and Jessica’s playing was (were?) noticeably more musical that the other students’. They didn’t just play notes; they made; lovely music. I was so proud of them both.
I also played well, though not perfectly. I was MUCH less nervous by using the music, and as far as I am concerned, that will be my plan in the future.
I’m not sure why I haven’t made time to blog in a week. I need to stay in the habit, or else so much of life goes by that I can’t seem to make myself go back and write about it.
This week was Hymn Festival for Jessica, Andrew, and me. I was fairly satisfied with my playing, although Mrs. Walker says I need to play with more expression. Sheesh. I will be playing one of the same pieces, an arrangement of “Holy, Holy, Holy,” for a BAMTA recital tomorrow, and I will do my best to be more expressive and vary my dynamics more.
We also bought a new (used) piano this week. Actually, we picked it out at the piano tuner’s shop last week, and it was delivered today. It is quite different from our Ancient of Days monga piano. This one is much shorter and lighter wood. It has plastic keys instead of ivory, and it is quite short to the ground. We had to have Mr. Dugan saw off the bench legs about three inches, so Jessica could get her knees under it! We may still have to raise the piano some, and we’ll surely have to raise it more as Andrew grows. It sounds different from the old one, it’s louder, and all the keys play.
In many ways it is a great blessing – especially that Scott would be willing to spend the money for a new one. He knows that piano is important to all three of us, and we appreciate that. However, it was tough emotionally to have the old one leave. It was big and clunky and had many idiosyncrasies – much like our house. I think it was patricularly hard on Jessica, because we made the decision to replace the piano while she was away on the AIM East Coast mission trip. We were all frustrated by aspects of the old piano, but I don’t think she ever thought we would replace it. However, she told me she would forgive us, and I am trusting that over time, we will all get used to and greatly enjoy playing this 1929 Gulbransen.
My first piano lesson in two months will happen tomorrow, and I am very not ready. Thankfully, the lesson is at 3:15 PM, so if I get everything done in the morning (and that would be a first), I will have plenty of time to practice, right?
That’s nothing compared to the video shoots Scott and I havev been trying to do lately. Yesterday morning we battled sunlight and noisy bugs. This morning it was just a matter of trying to get the right background and say the right things. We’re trying to wrap up a promo video for our ministry, and I won’t tell you how many takes it took to get a fairly good version of a one-minute spot.
But you could guess.
Someone around here is eating sheet music. And it’s not me.
Our piano bench, poor decrepit, rickety thing that it is, has no inner storage, so all the music in current use is kept on the piano. We have four “boxes” (cardboard magazine holders) up there – one each for Jessica, Andrew, and me, and one for music we share. Yes, it is rather surprising to me, too, but in some areas we are all at about the same level. Rather than buying three copies of Czerny and Hannon (heaven forbid!), we share.
Today, it was discovered that one item from my box (“White Christmas” – which I LOVE) and one from the shared box (“Major Scales and Arpeggios, One Octave – significantly less fun) have gone missing. I have checked diligently on, around, behind, and under the piano, to no avail. Since there’s really no where else that we keep music, I can’t figure out where they made off to.
Scarier is the fact that I distinctly remember using both those pieces of music, shortly after my lesson in mid-June. I doubt that Jessica or Andrew used the scales lately, and I’m sure that neither of them has played “White Christmas.” This means that the finger of guilt points squarely at Guess Who, and if I really have been eating music, all I can say is that the taste was less than memorable.
I like to play the piano. I am an average probably “intermediate” level player. This means that I can play slow, uncomplicated songs fairly well, and fast difficult songs not well at all.
In a little over 48 hours, I (and two of my children) will be playing in a piano recital. This means there will be lots of people and potential distractions to my already fragile ability to concentrate. The first song I will play is a really rich arrangement of the hymn, “Fairest Lord Jesus.” I memorized it. When I played in recitals as teenager, I don’t remember having a particularly hard time memorizing, but my current brain really strains at it. For my playing level, I was supposed to memorize 15 pieces this year, but I memorized exactly ONE piece: “Fairest Lord Jesus.”
I am scheduled to play my hymn (by memory) fairly early in the program, and I am not too worried about it, because if I mess up, I can hopefully make up something up and just keep going. I can also slow it down a bit if necessary, which will give me time to think what to play.
The other piece is a bigger concern. “Russian Dance” is a duet that Jessica and I will play near the very end of the recital. It is very fast AND the fingering is tricky, AND we are playing with the music (standard practice for all duets), AND I have to whip two pages off and onto the floor without losing my place or missing a beat, AND although we’ve practiced it a million and six times, I am still making mistakes on it. Not only all that; if I mess up, Jessica will keep right on going, and I will have to figure out how to come back in with the right notes at the right time. It’s a fun song, but it’s like a frantic race – six pages of music in about a minute and a half – and it even speeds up at the end!
I really hope “Russian Dance” comes off well and that people enjoy it, but either way, by 8:00 PM Friday, the recital will be over and I can go back to simply ENJOYING playing the piano.
The Russian Dance is a song I love to hate. It is a duet Jessica and I are working on, and we are hoping to get it perfected enough to be able to play it in the May 9 recital.
It is a very fast song; six pages long and we probably play it in about a minute and a half. It gets even faster at the end. Jessica plays her (high) part very well. Not only does she hit the correct notes, she heeds the dynamic markings. I, on the other hand, manage to play about 80% of the notes right, but the loud and soft stuff I have not mastered. Today we worked on the beast for about an hour in two half-hour sessions. We can only stand to work on it for 30 minutes at a time. = )
The other issue with the Russian Dance, at least in our house, is that, due to the location of our piano (in the corner of the dining room), I am sitting right against the window. Normally this would not be a problem, but when you play a duet, you always use the music. This is because if one of you gets off, you have to have the measure numbers in front of you to get back on track. Hence, we each have three big (two-page, taped together) pieces of music stacked on the rack. As we play, we can’t turn the pages; instead we throw them on the floor. This is evidently protocol for piano duet performances. We saw students do it in last year’s recital.
At the recital, while we take our bows, I think someone else will be assigned to run over and pick up our “litter,” kind of like those kids that grab the dead tennis balls along the net. However, at home, there are no such litter-grabbers, and each time after we finish, we have to gather up all the music. Jessica throws hers off to the right and it slides onto the dining room floor. No problem, she just leans over and gathers hers. I, however, sling mine over my left shoulder, where it hits the window and slides down the wall in the small space between the bench and the wall. This creates a few inconveniences.
1. I can’t lean to the left to gather it because my head hits the window.
2. I can’t very easily lean forward to gather it because my stomach is too fat to allow that!
3. I can’t lean backwards to gather it because our piano bench has a back on it. Reaching the floor over the high back of the bench would require a backbend and Andrew’s the only one in our family that can do those.
So, EVERY time we finish, it’s a major pain to re-gather my music. And we finish every 90 seconds or so! That’s a lot of re-gathering in a thirty-minute practice session.
Well, today I came up with a brainy idea: salad tongs! When we get ready to practice, we bring the salad tongs to the piano, too. They recline atop the piano while we play (probably laughing at us), and after the song, I grab the salad tongs and use them to snag my scattered music. Works every time.
I’m not Russian, and I can’t dance, but I DO wash the salad tongs before using them to serve salad.
Jessica and Andrew played (each before a judge) in a piano festival yesterday. They both played very well, and we learned today that they both received SUPERIOR evaluations. Superior is as high as it gets. They have been preparing for this competition for several months and we are all glad that it is finally OVER. Boy, am I ever proud of each of them!
I know that if I disciplined myself to write a little bit every day, we’d all enjoy this blog more. Life piles up pretty quickly around here and there are so many interesting and funny things to write about. I often think, “Now, THAT would make a great blog post,” but I don’t have time to write well about it, so I don’t write anything. Then several days go by and it’s hard to get back into the moment that so struck me.
So . . . back to the recital. . .
It was held at the Old Stone Church in Branson, which is a lovely, historic venue. The piano is a wood (not painted) baby grand with significantly firmer action than our home instrument. There were actually 68 students signed up to play in the recital, so the organizers had broken it in to two recitals, back-to-back. We three were in the 3:30 PM version.
Nerves were a big deal for me. I must have an over-active nervous system or something, because between the adrenaline and the sheer fear of doing something I hadn’t done in 32 years, I was literally a nervous wreck. Andrew seemed calm as a cucumber, and although Jessica may have been nervous, she didn’t let it show.
My teacher seated all of us students in the order we would play, which was very roughly from youngest to oldest. However, I was seated next to an 11-year-old whose dad is the professor of piano at our local college. I was terrified that she would play hers perfectly and I would blow it. While I sat there and tried in vain to calm my nerves, my teacher came over and talked with me. She wanted to let everyone know that I was an adult student. Now, I thought that was pretty obvious, but whatever. Furthermore, she told the head organizer – the emcee type lady – that she wanted me announced as such before the thing started. Lovely.
Mrs. Emcee welcomed everyone and talked for a long time and then pointed me out to the crowd. She told them I hadn’t played in a recital in over 30 years and that they should give me gracious applause when I played. I could feel my ears burning, and I’m sure they and my face were the color of my skirt (very dark red).
The three of us were spaced out through the program, and I played first. God was good. I did make several small mistakes, and one big one, but I was able to keep going and I think it came off okay. Everyone clapped (but of course, they had already been told to do that) and I was so relieved that I almost started crying. I was trembling as I stumbled back to my seat. amazing what having all your blood turn to adrenaline will do to you.
Andrew played his piece the best I’ve ever heard it! He was wearing an outfit that I just happened to find a week or so ago. I was decluttering and found a pair of black boys’ dress pants and matching jacket that someone had handed down to us years ago. I don’t even remember who or when, but it was probably three or four years ago. I just set them aside, because they were too small for Josiah and way too big fro Andrew. It turns out the pants are a size 10 slim (Andrew’s EXACT size), so I sent the (terribly dusty) jacket to the cleaners. With a white shirt and tie, he was really dressed to the nines. So he marched his smart self to the piano and FORGOT TO SCOOT THE BENCH IN. I sat there thinking, “Oh no. He’s going to have to reach for the keys, and the part at the end where he uses the pedal – he won’t even be able to reach it!” But not to worry. He played like a pro AND reached the pedal somehow. We all clapped like crazy.
Jessica had the most time to get nervous, because she played nearer to the end with all the high school students. She was lovely with her long hair, and she played so gracefully. Jessica puts a lot of emotion into everything she does, and her piano playing is full of feeling. There was one note that I wondered about, but she just kept on going. The ending of her piece is very dramatic and she made it shine.
So we all did well and survived. Mrs. Walker also thought we did well, and if if was good enough for her (the nicest lady you’ve ever met, but also the pickiest, most perfectionistic, most demanding-of-excellence teacher you can imagine), it was good enough.
