I started with the oboe but my front teeth are too big (imagine rabbit impression) and I kept smashing the reeds – v expensive
I’m not in an orchestra with that sort of salary, nor do I get any benefits, so I’m not qualified to answer the questions here:
How does great music engender such bitter people?
I am soliciting opinions on the following: how in the world is it that so many people who are involved in the classical music business are so bitter? It is hard for me to see how either playing the music of Beethoven or Mahler or being a behind-the-scenes person who brings Beethoven and Mahler to the public can make one quite so unhappy. For goodness sakes, it’s a privilege – most people have jobs that allow little or no room for emotion or expression or beauty or a glimpse of the eternal. Very few people hear applause at the conclusion of their workday. But if, for example, you have the good fortune to play in a great symphony orchestra (which comes with an income that is solidly upper middle class, every imaginable insurance benefit, etc.) and you play the works of great composers at least *most* of the time, how can you complain? Yet I can tell you that orchestra musicians, on average, are very very very unhappy. Of course I have never had the experience of being in an orchestra, so I am probably missing something – but as a pianist who depends quite a bit on the annual whims of different concert presenters to find out whether I will be able to pay the mortgage or not, I find it hard to understand the bitterness. I know I’d have a more stable income as an attorney, for example, but it is a great joy and privilege to play great music for people.[snip}
a few years ago I was playing with the Los Angeles Philharmonic, and I had a number of old friends in the orchestra. It took them till the second rehearsal to remember to be friendly to me – as if they had become so hardened and jaded by the “business” that they had only a dim recollection of fun times playing Brahms Trios and the like.
And conductors… why are so many of them so unpleasant? Does it make them feel that they are somehow more important, more authoritative? Of course I know many conductors who are wonderful people – but how are the rest of them getting hired at all? Are they such great musicians that they don’t need to bother to be civil and courteous and human? (Generally this is NOT the case!)
Well, if you have answers to any of these great mysteries, please share them! Meanwhile, don’t forget that the Beethoven “Archduke” Trio is one of mankind’s greatest accomplishments – and that the “music business” exists to bring that piece together with a world of people whose lives will be better if they spend 30 minutes listening to it.
And oh yeah, as a piece of advice – I don’t think you will REALLY feel better about yourself by talking down about others.
I’ll leave it to others. Just figured he needed some attention. ;-)
Eagerly awaiting the day when “more oboe trills” replaces “more cowbell” as the default musical instrument joke of our time.
After dinner last night I started to feel somewhat ill. I finally went to bed, knowing something was up.
Well, I do believe I had food poisoning. Dan and I ate the same food, but I had sangria with fruit in it. I’m guessing someone used a knife that was used for chicken or something to slice the fruit. Sigh. I was incredibly sick from about 2:00 AM on. I don’t know when I’ve been so miserable, aside from the vertigo episode. In a bit I’ll have to call students to cancel today’s lessons; I’m simply too weak to teach. Heck, even walking is a challenge at this point.
Another quick weight loss, maybe …?
I was supposed to meet Brandon at noon, to celebrate his 27th birthday. That’s gonna have to be put on hold as well.
Now I’m going back to bed.
I finished up the quarter at UCSC this morning. Beethoven trios were played. It was so much fun to hear the students playing together. Then we ended with donuts. Good way to end, don’tcha think? :-)
I had three students this afternoon as well, so it was an enjoyable day of teaching. And I mean that (finding out that someone thought the quote below was from me I thought I’d better make that clear!). I’m more exhausted not teaching — especially when I am bored — than I am teaching the majority of the time. Really.
This week is also the return of San Francisco Opera performances for us. We have three operas coming up: Tosca, La Traviata, and Porgy & Bess. We also have one more Giant’s game to go to … fun times!
3hrs of oboe lessons with kids that haven’t practiced=special dimension of HELL. Kill me now!
(Please know this is NOT a quote by me! This is a “Twitter Quote of the Day”. I actually love to teach, and usually find my students energize me. Really.)
… both my own season, and the much harder working pianists who participated in the Cliburn competition. Over and done. I’ll be back for next season. The Cliburn doesn’t return for four years.
Meanwhile, I was happy to see the results of the Cliburn, even if I hate seeing anyone lose at all, and I really don’t care for competition. I wish I could have seen the awards ceremony, even if I have read it wasn’t run terribly well. I just love watching the faces of winners. Maybe it’ll eventually be up at the webcast site. I wonder.
Here are the results, copied directly from the Cliburn site:
Nancy Lee and Perry R. Bass Gold Medalists (tie for first): Mr. Nobuyuki Tsujii, 20 (Japan) and Mr. Haochen Zhang, 19 (China)
Silver Medalist: Ms. Yeol Eum Son, 23 (South Korea)
Finalists (in alphabetical order):
Mr. Evgeni Bozhanov, 25 (Bulgaria)
Ms. Mariangela Vacatello, 27 (Italy)
Ms. Di Wu, 24 (China)The 2009 Competition was streamed live in its entirety from May 22 to June 7 at www.cliburn.tv. Pianist and arts advocate Jade Simmons hosted the webcast for the duration of the competition.
Twenty-nine pianists competed in the Preliminary Round; twelve competed in the Semifinal Round; and six vyed for top honors in the Final Round. All six finalists are receiving a prize package offering three years of managed concert tours at over $1,000,000 total value. Cliburn winners perform in hundreds of venues across the United States and abroad.
All pianists participating in the competition receive extraordinary media exposure on television, radio, and Internet broadcasts, as well as through commercial recordings and DVDs.
Me? I don’t have one rehearsal or performance scheduled until I work with Merola at the end of July and beginning of August. I’m hoping that between now and then I get some things accomplished around the house and in the studio.
● I’d like to work on our yard. Really. I just know it’s time to get to it; it doesn’t get done if no one works on it!
● I want to get reeds going for Cosi so that I’ll not have too much to worry about when the rehearsals start (famous last words, since the climate in SF is so different than here!).
● I plan to paint the living room, and at least the ceiling of our hallway.
So we’ll see how the plans go. One never knows ….
Bozhanov, who has studied music in Germany for eight years, is not fond of questions. Until he became a finalist, he put off reporters with a brisk “Not now, not now.” And this week, even when he agreed to an interview, he refused to give revealing answers.
Bozhanov, on how he prepares for a competition: “You know, I don’t like to tell about music. It’s a big experience; it’s not to explain with words. It’s impossible to tell you.”
On why he entered the Cliburn: “Don’t ask me about the competition. I’m here because I’m here, you know? I’m here to make music. I love to make music. For the competition, I’m just here.”
On the pressures of performing for a jury: “I don’t like this question.”
On whether it felt natural the first time he played the piano: “I don’t like this question.”
On his other interests: “I don’t have time for nothing, all the time piano playing, so if you’re asking me, I don’t have any hobbies, no.”
RTWT
Um … what can one say?
A Selection from his Final Recital:
An hour later, Son reflected on the radical physical metamorphosis she achieves from practice session to performance: “I really love becoming that quite different person on the stage — complete with a different outfit — from who I am off, in a rehearsal for instance,” Son said. Still another contrast that Son acknowledges is how much she revels in the Prokofiev work’s qualities of tragedy and happiness. She likes to call them the “ironies” of the work.
“I like to play the crying and screaming of the piece, but I also know there is real joy as well,” said Son, who nurses a sore right index finger after her orchestra rehearsal. “For the Prokofiev in particular, I must say that when I first played it, I said to myself that I must marry the person who wrote it — it affected me so much.”
Despite Son’s Herculean physicality in approaching such an imposing work as Prokofiev’s Second Concerto, she sheepishly admits to not being particularly athletic in her daily life. She doesn’t swim or ride a bike, nor often seek out a gym for a quick workout.
What Son does do is a vigorous jump-rope session for 15 minutes, under a live oak tree in her host family’s front yard in Fort Worth. That bit of heart-pumping exercise, and not coffee, seemingly energizes Son for her most productive practice sessions — between 11 p.m. and 3 a.m.
“We fall asleep to her playing the piano, it is so nice. We are really getting spoiled by her,” said Becky Brooks, Son’s host mom.
RTWT
… with all these articles you do start to see the different personalities, yes?
A Selection from her Final Recital:
He had only played with a chamber music group once before, recently in Japan, after learning it would be required should he advance to the Cliburn semifinals. He previously performed with symphony orchestras in Paris, Berlin and Tokyo, and he followed the conductor’s breathing, he said.
But Tsujii said his blindness has not limited his playing opportunities and that he doesn’t want to be known as the pianist who cannot see.
“The most important objective as I’m performing is that the audience is going to be moved,” Tsujii said through an interpreter.
RTWT (Maybe, the link doesn’t always work for me.)
His final recital hasn’t been performed yet, so this semifinal will stay up until then:
“For the first time in my life, there I was, this whole country and just me,” Wu said Sunday. “I have no relatives here. I used to have a boyfriend, but now I don’t. Nobody is checking on me anymore. I had nothing to grab onto. It felt like a free fall.
“I can’t forget that moment,” she said. “I’m just crossing a street. I’m at a red light in New York, and I thought, ‘If I walk now and am hit by a car, how long would it take for my parents to know? Three days?’?”
RTWT
I read some of these stories and am thankful I haven’t had the kind of lonely life some of these players appear to have. Is it all worth it? I suppose so. But I do love my family and friends, and I’m doubtful I could handle the sort of life these young players have lead.
I still don’t see her final recital clip at YouTube. I’ll update this if I find it.
Another, this time about the youngest contestant. (He turned 19 last week.)
Nancy Liu said she wanted her son to study in the United States so he could have a normal high school education instead of just an intensive musical regimen, which would have been the case in China. Zhang graduated last year from a Catholic high school, which he attended in the morning while taking Curtis classes in the afternoon.
Many interests
Over the years, Zhang’s interests have gone in different directions. At one point, he informed his mother that he’d rather become a novelist and a poet. There was the Chinese pop song-writing phase. And after becoming proficient at pool, Zhang announced that his true ambition was to become a professional snooker player.
Liu, who has no serious musical background but has developed a discerning ear, said she reeled him back to the keyboard while trying hard not to dampen his natural curiosity or have him burn out. To avoid the latter, “I made sure he got a complete education. So if he feels at the bottom of heart he wants to walk away from music, I am sure he would succeed at what he chooses,” she said in a combination of English and Chinese, which was translated by her cousin June Xiao.
Right now, the 5-foot, 8-inch Zhang has shelved ideas of becoming the consummate Renaissance man, concentrating on perfecting his music skills “while I am still young enough to learn.”
I love this. He isn’t all music, only music, can’t do anything else no matter what. Because if it all was taken away — and while I’d never wish this on anyone, things go wrong (ears, for instance, although I’m managing to deal) — life goes on. Besides, I think having other interests actually helps with one’s music. Maybe I’m all wet (extremely possible!), but there you have my little opinion.
Final Recital hasn’t been posted to YouTube yet. This is the semifinal. I’ll update later:
There are numerous articles about the six finalists, as one would expect. I’ll post some quotes and links as I find ones that interest me.
Here is something about Mariangela Vacatello:
“I like to smile, but I never smile when I’m onstage,” Vacatello said Friday. “I’m surprised, too. My first time on stage, for three or four minutes when I was 5 years old, I never smiled. People are always talking about me, saying, ‘You have to smile.’ They know me. I am like this, [smiling broadly] but when I’m up there, there is something serious. I have fun when I play, but there is something serious. Sometimes I really try [to smile onstage], but I just can’t do it.”
But the smile always returns the moment she steps from the stage lights, as does the graciousness with backstage workers, film crews, journalists and fans.
“I’m serious when I’m in front of the music, but then I can laugh and talk,” she said.
RTWT
I’m not at her level — wouldn’t dare suggest it — but yes, when we are working, we are working. Even light happy music requires concentration and work. I grow quite weary of people who suggest we should always be smiling.
Selection from her Final Recital:
Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina: Nunc Dimittis
I am again watching the Cliburn live webcasts. So interesting and captivating and, yes, addictive! I’m enamored with some of the musicians. Distracted by one (and if you are watching it too you probably know exactly who I’m talking about!).
So now I’m pondering how we listen. When we listen to an anonymous recording all we have is the music. Nothing more. We don’t even have to know who the players are. We can “merely” focus on the music making. If I do know who is playing, I might be visualizing the musician(s), but I’m obviously only using my past memories and who knows if the player is really doing what I’m picturing. But still, that may influence how and what I hear.
But listening and watching is another thing entirely. I believe I hear differently. If someone looks uncomfortable, I’ll hear the work with some discomfort. If someone is doing bizarre things with his (or her) eyebrows, mouth or other body parts I’m going to be distracted and possibly even annoyed. If someone’s hair is stuck to her lips, I am distracted (and in the case of a wind player, I’m concerned!). I can sometimes see what looks to be fear, or anger, or even boredom. (And yes, of course I could be misreading, but I’m fairly good at reading faces.)
I think at least one of the Cliburn players deliberately makes the most bizarre facial expressions. Perhaps he thinks he looks more musical that way? But truly, he needs to watch a video and see if it’s working for him. It’s off putting for me. I finally stopped looking and only listened. Unfortunately he’s also very much a showman and note accuracy was less important than the wildness he was trying to pull off. (It was interesting to read some of the comments at the Cliburn blog, and see that some of the writers — some of whom appear to be performing pianists — think that one doesn’t always need to play the correct notes.)
Another player, and this one clearly can’t remain unnamed since you’d figure it out immediately, is blind. Obviously everyone who is following the competition knows I’m writing of Nobuyuki Tsujii. Do I hear him differently because I’m so moved by his story and by the joy I see on his face when he is taking his bows? I’m guessing so. I know one reader here didn’t care for him … and I never trust my opinions. So now I think I’m probably not being a very good judge. (I’d be a rotten critic, that’s for sure!)
I am, in fact, listening to him right now, playing Rachmaninoff’s second piano concerto. I’m not watching … just listening. But of course the past images are probably influencing me a bit in how I hear. Or even more than a bit.
I hope my blogging about this has caused some of you to tune it. It really has been great fun.
