September 2007

'This is music that makes you happy to be alive'

September 14, 2007 13:43

Well, life is as busy as ever, but at least one thing I'm working on now is an extremely desirable thing to be busy with. I've just started to learn one of my very favorite pieces of music: the Brahms G Major Violin Sonata. Not only is this piece my favorite violin sonata, it is one of my favorite pieces of music of any instrument and genre period. I feel both daunted and exhilerated by it. It reminds me of when I played the Mendelssohn concerto last year. Part of me was intimidated — I was afraid that I could never come close to doing justice to the piece. But then another part of me was so in love with the music that it didn't matter. This sonata really is exquisite. Brahms doesn't waste a single note — all the technical challenges in the piece are the means to a musical end, not vice versa. To be honest, it will be a treat after working on the Lalo for so long. Don't get me wrong, Lalo is a great piece, well-written, colorful, and lots of fun . . . but frankly, I've always struggled a bit with it musically. I feel like I have to put on an act when I play it. Whereas the Brahms . . . well, what can I say? Anyone who knows and loves this piece will understand when I say it expresses some of the deepest, most universal longings of the human soul.

The funny thing about the Brahms is that there was a time in the not so distant past when I didn't care for it terribly much. I didn't dislike it by any means, but for me it was just kind of "eh". I think it's because when I was younger I heard the Brahms sonatas overplayed — on the radio, on my older sister's CD's . . . by my sister herself, in fact. Somehow they lost their charm before I even got to know them, if that makes sense. (It could also be the Brahms is an acquired taste not really appreciated by a 13 year old). :-) I rediscovered these sonatas, so to speak, through concerts at my favorite place in the world (which you're all probably tired of hearing about): Sound Encounters (What can I say? there's a reason I keep talking about it). Back in 2004 I heard Brian Lewis and Laura Kennedy perform the A Major sonata. My memory of it is a bit vague, but I do recall feeling every note, every phrase, had thought and care and love behind it.

Fast forward two years: same summer camp, same composer, same performers, but this time it was the G Major Sonata. I can honestly say that that was one of the most personally moving recitals I've ever seen, if not THE most. You could just tell how much Brian loved this piece — it came through so clearly in his playing. It was very exposed and personal — nothing was held back. Have you ever been to a concert and felt as if the musician is sharing with you a piece of his soul? That's the impression I got. And there's something else. At that time, Brian was just recovering from a very painful leg operation and was going through various medical complications. From what I'd heard, he wasn't even supposed to be up and walking at all. And yet, all week, he had been teaching and performing with an incredible amount of energy and enthusiasm and selflessness. When he walked out to perform the Brahms that night, you could tell that every step required extra effort. I'm sure he was in pain for the entire concert. And yet, here he was, and as cliched as it sounds, he really was putting his heart and soul into Brahms. After the first movement, he made the mildly joking comment, "This is music that just makes you happy to be alive." Most of the audience murmured a little chuckle when he said this, but coming from Brian, at this particular time, and after what I had just heard him play, that little side comment held a lot more meaning than I think most people assumed. I'll probably remember that performance for the rest of my life. When I got back from camp that summer, I would listen to recordings of that sonata, and if anything, have come to love it even more since then. Like any masterpiece, it's one that you can go back to over and over, and discover a new layer of beauty.

I'll leave you with the words of Isaac Stern who, in remembering his friend Joseph Szigeti, sums up the heart of this piece better than I ever could:

"I remember a performance he gave at Carnegie Hall in the mid-forties. In the opening work, he was ill at ease and not quite with it. Then he played the Brahms G Major Sonata, one of the most seraphic, poignant, soul-searching works in all the violin literature — music you don't perform, you live through. You try to show to what degree it is the essence of living, an appreciation for the act of life. Szigeti hit his stride and took off. I believe the pianist was Nikita Magaloff; the pianist is always so vitally important to such music. It was one of the most ennobling performances I have ever heard. Nobody in the hall breathed. You were not listening to a performance of someone standing on the stage at Carnegie Hall; you were surrounded by a golden aura of music."

I'm sure you can see now why I'm both intimidated and inspired.

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Whew . . . sorta

September 8, 2007 14:56

Well, after a brief hiatus, I'm returning to report that I have officially survived the first three weeks of college! And I'm still alive to tell about it. :) I have to admit, I may have been a little naive going into the start of classes. Life is definitely busier than I anticipated. Oh, I'm only taking 16 hours, perfectly normal, this shouldn't be too bad . . .

Ha.

First off, I have to say that thankfully, I like all my teachers pretty well, and really, most of my classes just fine. I'm taking pretty much standard freshman classes for a violin performance major: theory, orchestra, lessons, piano, violin studio class, English, a computer/synthesizer class, recitals, and an honors tutorial. Theory is a lot of work sometimes, since I don't know solfege yet and have never taken piano lessons, but at least I know what's going on so far. My English is through the honors program, so it's kind of challenging. We've only had a few weeks of classes and are already finished with the Odyssey. And the teacher, while interesting, is just a bit unpredictable. One day he's throwing us a pop quiz at us about some random chapter in the book, and the next day we're watching the Wishbone version of the Odyssey. Not that I have anything against Wishbone of course . . .

Ahhh, and then that lovely class known as orchestra. Our conductor pretty good. The music he picked for us, on the other hand . . . well, let's just say that for about the first week after I was handed the part for Stravinsky's Firebird Suite, all I could do was stare paralyzed at the music thinking oh, @#$%. And unfortunately since I'm principal second, I kind of have to keep faking at a minimum. We're also doing Dvorak's 8th Symphony and Bernstein's Overture to Candide, which aren't too bad, but will still take a lot of work. Our repertoire really isn't more difficult than any standard college orchestra would do . . . but when you take into account that only four of the seventeen violins are actually performance majors . . . yeah, you get the idea.

As a side note . . . is it just me, or do conductors always choose music that is too difficult for student orchestras? It seems like in nearly every orchestra I've played in so far, we've always done music so technically beyond our range that the ensemble unity and finer details of music-making get lost. My youth orchestra did Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition one year . . . insane! Somehow if get the impression that if even I can't play my Firebird part, most of my section probably can't either. Obviously, we should be challenged, but somehow butchering Stravinsky doesn't seem the way to go about it. I wish we could play something just a little simpler, but really play it. Well. That means every person in every section breathing, moving, and playing together seamlessly, keeping right balance with all the other parts and conveying all the nuances of dynamics and phrasing and character. I've gotten a taste for that at summer camp, and it makes me wish I could have that experience elsewhere too.

One thing I've realized about being a performance major is that, even though technically have an average class load, the actual work comes out to more than you'd expect. Orchestra, for instance, is just 1 credit hour, but we have three 2-hr rehearsals a week, and the music requires a lot of attention outside rehearsal. Then there's this recital attendance class that is required for my major, but counts for 0 hours. Yep, that's right. I have to go to about 2 or 3 concerts a week to fulfill the requirements, which takes up valuable time but gives me no credit. Sometimes it's frustrating that I can't practice more. If I'm not physically in class, I always seem to have homework or reading or a paper that can't wait. Sometimes I wish there was a little less work and little more learning going on, if that makes sense. Obviously, it takes work and study to learn, but there's also a certain amount of wasted time involved it seems. Take piano class for instance: I could learn the same material in 15 minutes of concentrated practice that we waste an hour on. Grrr.

I suppose that's college for you. :)

Well, I promise to stop griping about classes and share something more cheerful next time. I actually have some exciting news, I just need a little more time to ruminate on it . . .

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More entries: December 2007 • August 2007

September 2007

'This is music that makes you happy to be alive'

Whew . . . sorta

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