Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Interfaithy Things and Christmas Break
Hello, Christmas break. Hello, home.
It's been quite the first semester of college, with lots of ups and downs, but I'm proud to say that I'm still alive, I don't feel like dropping out, and that even with all the stress, I've had some really good experiences. Victory!
Now I'm just focusing on relaxing(though I still have to practice),until my next great adventure to Atlanta in January. What brings me there, exactly? Well...
At Concordia, I got involved with a student group called Better Together. It's objective is to promote interfaith dialogue on campus and in the Fargo-Moorhead community. Now, you might think that both these places are heavily populated by white, Christian Lutherans, but they are actually more diverse than you might think. So we try to figure out ways to reach out to people of different backgrounds and beliefs and do service projects.
Like this, for example.
One of the things that binds us together in the midst of differences is our faith calling us to serve our neighbors. I wish that more people acknowledged this!
Hundreds of Better Together groups are being started at colleges all across the country, and they are all part of the outreach campaign started by Interfaith Youth Core, which seeks to create a international and interfaith movement to bring about social justice.
Every year, IFYC hosts a conference for us college-age youth, where we get trained on how to organize interfaith dialogue and action at our schools and in the world. This year it's in Atlanta.
GUESS WHO"S GOING TO IT.
Yeah, I'm pretty excited.
I feel honored and fortunate to be able to go. Not only will it be an extraordinary learning opportunity, but I'll be going with a super great bunch of fellow Better Together-ers as well. I'm hoping to learn from them and their life and faith (or no faith) experiences just as much as from the conference.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Thanksgiving
I'm so excited for Thanksgiving Break--just three more days and I'll be home! But, just like Mid-Sem break in October, it's probably going to be over before I know it (how's that for pessimistic? WHAT HAS COLLEGE DONE TO ME?).
This semester has had its peaks and valleys, and I'm still trying to figure out how to operate within this new world. That sounds like an exaggeration, but that's really what it feels like. And not the happy Aladdin kind, either. It's been rough, dealing with the stress of classes and not having the luxury of free/dreaming/guitar-playing/journal-and-blog-writing time. It's freakin' hard interesting being a college student, when I'm coming from a very different philosophy of learning and living. A lot of times I feel like a square peg being forced into a round hole. But along with that, there have been good things as well, like being in choir, playing on the Quidditch team, learning to speak German, and meeting lots of cool friends and mentors. I'll get used to things eventually...
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Failure and success
Sometimes I am just amazed at how close the distance between failure and success is. As a pianist, a C chord is millimeters away from a B chord. Drop your hand a quarter inch to the left and there's dissonance and a cringing panic in the chest as you try to adjust.
You've played this piece a hundred times, probably more, at various tempos, in so many different ways, taking apart the voicing and the nuances, studying in such detail the way your piano part fits with the voice parts, and still, when you put it all together, there is a surprise. "How fascinating!" one of my mentors advises me to think when the unthinkable occurs in performances. "OMG!" or "what the F#ck" is what really goes through my head when the unexpected happens.
Yes, those of us who know the piece in such great detail know exactly where we have fallen short, while those listening may only hear a momentary pause, a slight hesitation, or a moment of awkwardness. Sometimes the failure is barely noticeable, sometimes not.
But we who perform know.
And we care outrageously.
It's a good thing, in that the knowing and the caring spurs us on to greater practice, greater precision, greater efforts that eventually produce greater results.
But at the moment of failure, and the remembrance of it, even with many many many successes on its heels, it still feels like *shit*. We go home, we cry, we kick ourselves, we replay the failure many times more than we replay the success.
And we ask ourselves [again, and again, and again], am I going to give up or am I going to go on?
And we take a nap, and then we go on.
You've played this piece a hundred times, probably more, at various tempos, in so many different ways, taking apart the voicing and the nuances, studying in such detail the way your piano part fits with the voice parts, and still, when you put it all together, there is a surprise. "How fascinating!" one of my mentors advises me to think when the unthinkable occurs in performances. "OMG!" or "what the F#ck" is what really goes through my head when the unexpected happens.
Yes, those of us who know the piece in such great detail know exactly where we have fallen short, while those listening may only hear a momentary pause, a slight hesitation, or a moment of awkwardness. Sometimes the failure is barely noticeable, sometimes not.
But we who perform know.
And we care outrageously.
It's a good thing, in that the knowing and the caring spurs us on to greater practice, greater precision, greater efforts that eventually produce greater results.
But at the moment of failure, and the remembrance of it, even with many many many successes on its heels, it still feels like *shit*. We go home, we cry, we kick ourselves, we replay the failure many times more than we replay the success.
And we ask ourselves [again, and again, and again], am I going to give up or am I going to go on?
And we take a nap, and then we go on.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Coming home
I've been enjoying a weekend home from school, and man it feels good. The reason I came down after only a month away is because the music director at my church needed an accordion player. Of all things. Naturally I jumped at the chance, and had a fun time playing with a polka band in church as part of an Oktoberfest worship celebration. Yes, my life is awesome.
It was really fun today seeing all my friends at church. I love it at school, and I'm weathering the challenges well, but there's no place like home. Actually, I spent so much of my time in high school at church, that a lot of people were not surprised at all to see me around this morning. Aside from jamming out on the accordion, I've spent my time finishing a research paper, which I'm glad to be done with, and practicing piano with my snazzy new metronome (which looks like a miniature beige coffin, which is why I associate metronomes with DEATH).
Today I've just been hanging out, knitting, and watching football. I miss this idea of free time!
My home-schooled background has helped me in a lot of ways; I get stuff done promptly, and I'm not burned out from years of being in school already, so I'm curious as to how things all work. Doesn't mean I like all the deadlines and creating annotated bibliographies, the late nights, and general fast pace of everything, but I roll with the punches. Even though I'm in college, I still identify myself as a home-schooler-–four years of college won't change that.
It was really fun today seeing all my friends at church. I love it at school, and I'm weathering the challenges well, but there's no place like home. Actually, I spent so much of my time in high school at church, that a lot of people were not surprised at all to see me around this morning. Aside from jamming out on the accordion, I've spent my time finishing a research paper, which I'm glad to be done with, and practicing piano with my snazzy new metronome (which looks like a miniature beige coffin, which is why I associate metronomes with DEATH).
Today I've just been hanging out, knitting, and watching football. I miss this idea of free time!
My home-schooled background has helped me in a lot of ways; I get stuff done promptly, and I'm not burned out from years of being in school already, so I'm curious as to how things all work. Doesn't mean I like all the deadlines and creating annotated bibliographies, the late nights, and general fast pace of everything, but I roll with the punches. Even though I'm in college, I still identify myself as a home-schooler-–four years of college won't change that.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Irish Fair!
Yesterday I spent the afternoon at the Irish Fair. It was so cool! And of course the best part for me was the Irish musicians, performing all types of traditional music all day. The Fair was held at Harriet Island, which looks over the beautiful Mississippi River in St. Paul, and honestly, we couldn't have asked for a more gorgeous day. I went with a few friends, and we just set up our chairs under a big shady tree by the main music stage, then we'd go off and explore. There was a big merch tent with tons of cool/expensive stuff, from jewelry to Irish rugby jerseys to Celtic instruments and swords.
Oh, and kilts. Lots and lots of kilts. I would say the vast majority of men I saw were sporting them. It was quite the fashion parade: some of them were the traditional plaid tartan patterns in green, blue, black or red, but there were also lots of modern and/or unusual kilts, like blaze orange, Yield sign yellow, camouflage and denim. I would have loved to get good pictures, but it's just the tiniest bit awkward, you see.
Although I got this one, because I loved his socks.
(I made the mistake of wearing a black t-shirt amongst all of the green. Totally anti-festive. I don't even have a U2 t-shirt)
There was a sheep herding demonstration...
and a hurling match.
alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641460260060675218" />
First of all, it's not THAT type of hurling.
I didn't get there in time to hear the exact rules of the game, but from what I could tell it looked similar to lacrosse. Instead of sticks with nets, though, they were wooden sticks with a flat, paddle-like end, which they used to scoop up the ball and whack it to their teammates. It was fun to watch, but I have no idea who won.
I didn't get a picture, but the Irish wolfhounds came out in droves. They are so huge! If they stood on their hind legs I'm sure they'd be taller than me. Want.
After all our exploring, we ended up sitting under the shady tree, listening to the great music as the afternoon cooled into the evening. It was a great time...I hope I can go again next year.
Oh, and kilts. Lots and lots of kilts. I would say the vast majority of men I saw were sporting them. It was quite the fashion parade: some of them were the traditional plaid tartan patterns in green, blue, black or red, but there were also lots of modern and/or unusual kilts, like blaze orange, Yield sign yellow, camouflage and denim. I would have loved to get good pictures, but it's just the tiniest bit awkward, you see.
Although I got this one, because I loved his socks.
(I made the mistake of wearing a black t-shirt amongst all of the green. Totally anti-festive. I don't even have a U2 t-shirt)
There was a sheep herding demonstration...
and a hurling match.
alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641460260060675218" />
First of all, it's not THAT type of hurling.
I didn't get there in time to hear the exact rules of the game, but from what I could tell it looked similar to lacrosse. Instead of sticks with nets, though, they were wooden sticks with a flat, paddle-like end, which they used to scoop up the ball and whack it to their teammates. It was fun to watch, but I have no idea who won.
I didn't get a picture, but the Irish wolfhounds came out in droves. They are so huge! If they stood on their hind legs I'm sure they'd be taller than me. Want.
After all our exploring, we ended up sitting under the shady tree, listening to the great music as the afternoon cooled into the evening. It was a great time...I hope I can go again next year.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
I'm blogging right now from my new Mac, and it makes me oh-so-happy. I've never owned one before, so it'll be interesting trying to figure everything out before I leave for school--yikes-- in a few weeks. The Apple Store in Mall of America was crazy busy and slightly intimidating, but we emerged triumphant with a MacBook Pro awhile later.
In the afternoon, my brother and I zipped up to Fort Snelling, where they were hosting a shape note singing get-together. If you want to know more about shape note music (also called Sacred Harp), you'll find me explaining it in this post.
I'd never been to a singing before, and was a bit nervous. I walked into a small schoolroom where singers had gathered.
"Would you like to sing with us?" one of them asked. When I said yes, he said, "There's songbooks over there, fans right there, and water over here. Get those and you can take a seat." I filled up my water bottle, passed on the paper fan, got the songbook, which said The Sacred Harp on the cover, and sat in the alto section. My brother had gone off on his own to explore the rest of the Fort, hang out at the blacksmith's, and watch the cannon presentation, of course.
It was hot and muggy outside, and inside the schoolroom it wasn't much better. Behind me I heard a few mutterings that it wouldn't be a Sacred Harp singing without a lack of air conditioning. The singing got started after about 20 people had gathered. Most of them had been singing Sacred Harp music for a number of years, meeting weekly in the Twin Cities to sing and attending conventions throughout the state and country. I made sure to sit next to one of those people, and luckily, my neighbor could really belt it out. Whenever I lost my place in the music (which happened a lot), I'd just do whatever she did.
Shape note singers sit in a hollow square formation. Anybody can suggest a song, and anybody can get up to lead it from the middle of the hollow square. Leading a song means you give the pitches for Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass, and keep the tempo by waving your arm up and down, pretty much. The huge amount of sound we were able to produce was startling. People visiting the Fort would pop their heads in wondering what all the ruckus was, and sometimes they'd even join us.
After an hour we stopped to take a break, because the leader of the cannon presentation had to start presenting outside our door. Certain singers had brought food for a potluck, so we ate and chatted for 20 minutes or so. My observation is that fellowship is as much a part of the Sacred Harp tradition as singing is--and it made things even more fun! Because firstly, the fact that any of us were there meant that we were a very unique, unusual set of people: I met some like me who had first heard of Sacred Harp through the Internet, documentaries, and the movie Cold Mountain. Most of them were my parent's age or older, except for me and a few college-age girls. The resurgence of Sacred Harp has definitely been an intergenerational kind of movement across the country, though. I don't want to say "popularity," because it's still such a fringy thing, like being a Civil War reenactor or speaking Esperanto.
I got talking with one guy who, on finding out it was my first time at a singing, convinced me to lead a song with his help. That was exciting! Of course, as a newcomer, it wasn't always easy to keep up, but it was still by far the funnest and unabashedly nerdiest thing I could have done with my day. The people were welcoming, and the music and energy were exhilarating.
It was weird, though: I went from the Apple Store in the morning, to singing 18th century church music all afternoon. It was a time warp of a day!
In the afternoon, my brother and I zipped up to Fort Snelling, where they were hosting a shape note singing get-together. If you want to know more about shape note music (also called Sacred Harp), you'll find me explaining it in this post.
I'd never been to a singing before, and was a bit nervous. I walked into a small schoolroom where singers had gathered.
"Would you like to sing with us?" one of them asked. When I said yes, he said, "There's songbooks over there, fans right there, and water over here. Get those and you can take a seat." I filled up my water bottle, passed on the paper fan, got the songbook, which said The Sacred Harp on the cover, and sat in the alto section. My brother had gone off on his own to explore the rest of the Fort, hang out at the blacksmith's, and watch the cannon presentation, of course.
It was hot and muggy outside, and inside the schoolroom it wasn't much better. Behind me I heard a few mutterings that it wouldn't be a Sacred Harp singing without a lack of air conditioning. The singing got started after about 20 people had gathered. Most of them had been singing Sacred Harp music for a number of years, meeting weekly in the Twin Cities to sing and attending conventions throughout the state and country. I made sure to sit next to one of those people, and luckily, my neighbor could really belt it out. Whenever I lost my place in the music (which happened a lot), I'd just do whatever she did.
Shape note singers sit in a hollow square formation. Anybody can suggest a song, and anybody can get up to lead it from the middle of the hollow square. Leading a song means you give the pitches for Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass, and keep the tempo by waving your arm up and down, pretty much. The huge amount of sound we were able to produce was startling. People visiting the Fort would pop their heads in wondering what all the ruckus was, and sometimes they'd even join us.
After an hour we stopped to take a break, because the leader of the cannon presentation had to start presenting outside our door. Certain singers had brought food for a potluck, so we ate and chatted for 20 minutes or so. My observation is that fellowship is as much a part of the Sacred Harp tradition as singing is--and it made things even more fun! Because firstly, the fact that any of us were there meant that we were a very unique, unusual set of people: I met some like me who had first heard of Sacred Harp through the Internet, documentaries, and the movie Cold Mountain. Most of them were my parent's age or older, except for me and a few college-age girls. The resurgence of Sacred Harp has definitely been an intergenerational kind of movement across the country, though. I don't want to say "popularity," because it's still such a fringy thing, like being a Civil War reenactor or speaking Esperanto.
I got talking with one guy who, on finding out it was my first time at a singing, convinced me to lead a song with his help. That was exciting! Of course, as a newcomer, it wasn't always easy to keep up, but it was still by far the funnest and unabashedly nerdiest thing I could have done with my day. The people were welcoming, and the music and energy were exhilarating.
It was weird, though: I went from the Apple Store in the morning, to singing 18th century church music all afternoon. It was a time warp of a day!
Monday, July 25, 2011
Comings and Goings
I have four children, ages 23, 21, 18, and 14.
The 23 year old, after not living at home for four years, is home. Home for the summer, home for a last semester of college this fall. Then we'll see.
Home and remembering house rules. Pick up after yourself. Replace the toilet roll when you use it up. Ask before you borrow the car. Fill the tank. Wash your own dishes. Don't assume all the steak in the freezer is yours. Make your own bed.
Home and contributing to family life. He loves to grill. He doesn't mind physical labor, hot and sweaty garden projects. He offers his technology when the house DVD player breaks down. Nice give and take.
The 21 year old is away. Living on her own, or almost. Taking responsibility for herself, mostly. Until tuition payments are due.
She checks in more frequently than she did when she had something to prove [to herself? to us? to whom?]
The 18 year old is making lists. Phone, checking account, laptop, laundry detergent, and all the other things she needs before she moves to college dorm life.
That one spends more time considering how many musical instruments will fit in her dorm room than she spends on what clothes, books, or gadgets to pack. Latest count: violin, guitar, mandolin, dulcimer [it's small] all go. Piano [it's MINE] stays. Accordion [it's not hers either] goes back to its orginal owner. Cello, that's up for debate. Is there room in her closet?
The fourteen year old schemes and plans about having his bedroom to himself again.
And me? It's going to be quiet in my house this fall.
We're going to have to negotiate cars if the 23 year old plans to commute to school this fall.
I'm proud to see my kids accept the responsibility of independence. And I'm pleased to see they can ask for help [and a spare bedroom] when circumstances warrant that. Love to see them go, see them grow, see them live in community, see them give back where ever they are.
For a long time I've said, healthy birds leave the nest.
But healthy people know when to ask for help, and a temporary home.
Love my kids, coming and going. Growing.
The 23 year old, after not living at home for four years, is home. Home for the summer, home for a last semester of college this fall. Then we'll see.
Home and remembering house rules. Pick up after yourself. Replace the toilet roll when you use it up. Ask before you borrow the car. Fill the tank. Wash your own dishes. Don't assume all the steak in the freezer is yours. Make your own bed.
Home and contributing to family life. He loves to grill. He doesn't mind physical labor, hot and sweaty garden projects. He offers his technology when the house DVD player breaks down. Nice give and take.
The 21 year old is away. Living on her own, or almost. Taking responsibility for herself, mostly. Until tuition payments are due.
She checks in more frequently than she did when she had something to prove [to herself? to us? to whom?]
The 18 year old is making lists. Phone, checking account, laptop, laundry detergent, and all the other things she needs before she moves to college dorm life.
That one spends more time considering how many musical instruments will fit in her dorm room than she spends on what clothes, books, or gadgets to pack. Latest count: violin, guitar, mandolin, dulcimer [it's small] all go. Piano [it's MINE] stays. Accordion [it's not hers either] goes back to its orginal owner. Cello, that's up for debate. Is there room in her closet?
The fourteen year old schemes and plans about having his bedroom to himself again.
And me? It's going to be quiet in my house this fall.
We're going to have to negotiate cars if the 23 year old plans to commute to school this fall.
I'm proud to see my kids accept the responsibility of independence. And I'm pleased to see they can ask for help [and a spare bedroom] when circumstances warrant that. Love to see them go, see them grow, see them live in community, see them give back where ever they are.
For a long time I've said, healthy birds leave the nest.
But healthy people know when to ask for help, and a temporary home.
Love my kids, coming and going. Growing.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Guilty
I am feeling a lot of Mom Guilt this week.
Emily is gone for the week, and I'm so happy to have the piano all to myself. [guilt, guilt.]
I don't have to have an early morning consultation each day about who gets to practice when.
I just get to practice whenever I want. Whenever I don't have a student. Whenever I feeeeeeel like playing.
[guilt, guilt.]
A good mom would be happy to share her piano.
A good mom would take delight in her child's passion, discipline and drive toward success.
[guilt, guilt.]
I really do take delight in all those things. And, I wish I could have my piano all to myself, at my beck and call, and not have to share.
[guilt, guilt]
Em's got access to a piano where she is.
[happy, happy.]
Emily is gone for the week, and I'm so happy to have the piano all to myself. [guilt, guilt.]
I don't have to have an early morning consultation each day about who gets to practice when.
I just get to practice whenever I want. Whenever I don't have a student. Whenever I feeeeeeel like playing.
[guilt, guilt.]
A good mom would be happy to share her piano.
A good mom would take delight in her child's passion, discipline and drive toward success.
[guilt, guilt.]
I really do take delight in all those things. And, I wish I could have my piano all to myself, at my beck and call, and not have to share.
[guilt, guilt]
Em's got access to a piano where she is.
[happy, happy.]
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Graduation, again
Our third child has reached that stage of life known as high school graduation. It's a little bit surreal. As a family that homeschools with the philosophy that learning is a life long endeavor, to mark an "ending" of schooling seems odd. This particular form of schooling ends, the learning never does.
And yet, it is good to recognize and celebrate this transition from home and family to continuing the learning in a different setting.
As each child 'graduated,' we have asked family and friends to contribute their thoughts -- memories and bits of advice -- to a book that we have compiled for the graduate.
I am always stunned at the thoughts people share.
As connected as I am with my children, they have lives apart from mine and my influence. This is a good thing.
I am so grateful for the people who have been part of my children's lives. They so often notice and remark upon aspects of the child's personality or gifts that I take for granted. They see it as special, whereas I just see it as *Emily*.
And I love the pieces of advice they share. Sometimes it's something they heard from their own parents. Sometimes it's something they've learned the hard way.
Best of all, so many of the people in my children's lives share their foundation of faith with her. Remember, Emily, you are one of God's children, now and forever. Rembember, Emily, God will help you when you need help and guidance. Remember, Emily, you are baptized. Remember, Emily, you can be a witness of God's love in the world.
Thanks to all who have or will contribute to this book.
And yet, it is good to recognize and celebrate this transition from home and family to continuing the learning in a different setting.
As each child 'graduated,' we have asked family and friends to contribute their thoughts -- memories and bits of advice -- to a book that we have compiled for the graduate.
I am always stunned at the thoughts people share.
As connected as I am with my children, they have lives apart from mine and my influence. This is a good thing.
I am so grateful for the people who have been part of my children's lives. They so often notice and remark upon aspects of the child's personality or gifts that I take for granted. They see it as special, whereas I just see it as *Emily*.
And I love the pieces of advice they share. Sometimes it's something they heard from their own parents. Sometimes it's something they've learned the hard way.
Best of all, so many of the people in my children's lives share their foundation of faith with her. Remember, Emily, you are one of God's children, now and forever. Rembember, Emily, God will help you when you need help and guidance. Remember, Emily, you are baptized. Remember, Emily, you can be a witness of God's love in the world.
Thanks to all who have or will contribute to this book.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Graduating?! What?!
Life is feeling pretty surreal right now. I know it is for a lot of graduating high schoolers like me, but my case is a bit different. The last time I was in your typical classroom environment was in pre-school, and now in a mere two months I'll be in college. Yowza!
My peers and I are at this weird stage where everything in the future is new, exciting, and scary. For me as a home schooler, you can multiply that by a million. I don't want to think about my future, but that's all I end up thinking about. I know I already have certain skills I can use to survive and do well in the world, so I try to stop worrying. (Let's see how that goes, shall we?) I know I have comforting and supportive people around me, though, and I'm definitely not alone in my anxious thoughts.
Some people ask me if I'm going to be part of the local high school commencement ceremony, but the answer is no. I suppose I could process through my livingroom and my mom could hand me a diploma, but I'd rather not. Fanfare and funny hats aren't my thing. I'll just take the party, please.
~~
This last week I've made progress with a few compositions, which is always an exhilerating feeling. What's strange is that I could sit at the piano and play you a multitude of tunes that frequently roll around my brain, but to this day my complete collection of finished works--though they're not as epic as the title may suggest-- comes only to a total of three. I'm kind of new at this whole composing thing, so that's probably why I underestimated the insane amount of time it can take to perfect one measure, let alone an entire piece of music. But I'll keep on truckin'. It's a fun mind-bending type of challenge for me. Some people do Sudoku, I write music. What I'm working on now is a piece for choir, because I'm a choir geek raised by more choir geeks who hang out with other choir geeks, and then another piano thing. That's kind of my big summer priority--to finish something--along with catching up with people before I leave for school.
Exciting times are ahead, without a doubt.
My peers and I are at this weird stage where everything in the future is new, exciting, and scary. For me as a home schooler, you can multiply that by a million. I don't want to think about my future, but that's all I end up thinking about. I know I already have certain skills I can use to survive and do well in the world, so I try to stop worrying. (Let's see how that goes, shall we?) I know I have comforting and supportive people around me, though, and I'm definitely not alone in my anxious thoughts.
Some people ask me if I'm going to be part of the local high school commencement ceremony, but the answer is no. I suppose I could process through my livingroom and my mom could hand me a diploma, but I'd rather not. Fanfare and funny hats aren't my thing. I'll just take the party, please.
~~
This last week I've made progress with a few compositions, which is always an exhilerating feeling. What's strange is that I could sit at the piano and play you a multitude of tunes that frequently roll around my brain, but to this day my complete collection of finished works--though they're not as epic as the title may suggest-- comes only to a total of three. I'm kind of new at this whole composing thing, so that's probably why I underestimated the insane amount of time it can take to perfect one measure, let alone an entire piece of music. But I'll keep on truckin'. It's a fun mind-bending type of challenge for me. Some people do Sudoku, I write music. What I'm working on now is a piece for choir, because I'm a choir geek raised by more choir geeks who hang out with other choir geeks, and then another piano thing. That's kind of my big summer priority--to finish something--along with catching up with people before I leave for school.
Exciting times are ahead, without a doubt.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Playing on the floor
It's the last week of our regular school year piano lessons. For something a little fun, I brought out my new toy - er, teaching tool. A giant floor piano.
My students and I are not quite as adept as these players, but we're having fun.
My students and I are not quite as adept as these players, but we're having fun.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Bob Dylan turns 70
Happy birthday, Bob Dylan!
Because I'm sure you're reading this.
***
I discovered Bob Dylan when I was twelve, after watching Martin Scorsese's documentary, No Direction Home. My mind was kind of blown.
I started to sing and play his songs, and I memorized 17 out of 20 verses of his "It's Alright, Ma, I'm Only Bleedin'" before I thought "When am I ever going to perform this?" and quit. Now I regret it just a bit. I remember on a road trip to Upper Michigan, we picked up on a radio station from an American Indian reservation, and it was playing "Desolation Row."
After about two verses Dad--who dislikes Bob Dylan's music--gave a groan and said, "Is it done yet?"
"There's about 10 more minutes left, Dad."
Then he rolled his eyes and groaned again.
So, whether you love him or hate him, there's no denying the impact he had on music and a whole generation. I don't want to get too maudlin, but I think I would be a very different musician had it not been for the work of Bob Dylan.
If you've got an hour, listen to MPR's documentary on his early days in Minnesota, from Hibbing to the Twin Cities.
Because I'm sure you're reading this.
***
I discovered Bob Dylan when I was twelve, after watching Martin Scorsese's documentary, No Direction Home. My mind was kind of blown.
I started to sing and play his songs, and I memorized 17 out of 20 verses of his "It's Alright, Ma, I'm Only Bleedin'" before I thought "When am I ever going to perform this?" and quit. Now I regret it just a bit. I remember on a road trip to Upper Michigan, we picked up on a radio station from an American Indian reservation, and it was playing "Desolation Row."
After about two verses Dad--who dislikes Bob Dylan's music--gave a groan and said, "Is it done yet?"
"There's about 10 more minutes left, Dad."
Then he rolled his eyes and groaned again.
So, whether you love him or hate him, there's no denying the impact he had on music and a whole generation. I don't want to get too maudlin, but I think I would be a very different musician had it not been for the work of Bob Dylan.
If you've got an hour, listen to MPR's documentary on his early days in Minnesota, from Hibbing to the Twin Cities.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Quality and Quantity
Most of the time I feel like I appreciate quality over quantity. Despite this, my brain likes to combine two or more awesome things to see if they can become even more awesome, most of the time in a blinding flurry of excitement. These things include:
Jimi Hendrix on the accordion
M&Ms and pizza
Muppet's version of "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
My favorite computer games from my younger days, SimGolf and Yukon Trail, which is like Oregon Trail, but more snow and frostbite.
This is where the blinding flurry of excitement comes in, clouding the need for an actual objective. Complete 18 holes of golf without being bit by a rabid sled dog or contracting cholera? It forever stays in the planning stages.
Needless to say, none of these things worked out the way I'd hoped.
I have to keep reminding myself that one All-Powerful Marvel of Awesomeness can look good on paper, but not so much in reality.
So, I'll watch the first Pirates of the Caribbean and pretend the others don't exist. Maybe you'll hear Jimi Hendrix on the accordion again, but for sure I'll keep my M&Ms and pizza separate. Quality, not quantity.
Jimi Hendrix on the accordion
M&Ms and pizza
Muppet's version of "Monty Python and the Holy Grail"
My favorite computer games from my younger days, SimGolf and Yukon Trail, which is like Oregon Trail, but more snow and frostbite.
This is where the blinding flurry of excitement comes in, clouding the need for an actual objective. Complete 18 holes of golf without being bit by a rabid sled dog or contracting cholera? It forever stays in the planning stages.
Needless to say, none of these things worked out the way I'd hoped.
I have to keep reminding myself that one All-Powerful Marvel of Awesomeness can look good on paper, but not so much in reality.
So, I'll watch the first Pirates of the Caribbean and pretend the others don't exist. Maybe you'll hear Jimi Hendrix on the accordion again, but for sure I'll keep my M&Ms and pizza separate. Quality, not quantity.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
My Way vs. Bob Marley's Way
Things don't go my way sometimes.
Yesterday--a beautiful, warm day-- I went to a place and asked about a summer job, and they said, "We're hiring, but not for the summer." My confidence deflated a bit.
Then this morning I wake up, and am greeted by my brother with, "The dog threw up." Which translates as, "Clean it up." He quickly exits the scene to take the dog for a walk, so I do what I gotta do and find the carpet stain spray stuff in the red bottle.
But then--and I know how cliche this must sound--Three Little Birds came on the radio, and my attitude changed. Every little thing is going to be alright. Doesn't mean that it'll go my way, but that it will be alright.
Yesterday--a beautiful, warm day-- I went to a place and asked about a summer job, and they said, "We're hiring, but not for the summer." My confidence deflated a bit.
Then this morning I wake up, and am greeted by my brother with, "The dog threw up." Which translates as, "Clean it up." He quickly exits the scene to take the dog for a walk, so I do what I gotta do and find the carpet stain spray stuff in the red bottle.
But then--and I know how cliche this must sound--Three Little Birds came on the radio, and my attitude changed. Every little thing is going to be alright. Doesn't mean that it'll go my way, but that it will be alright.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Hey, did you hear about this?
Last week a congresswoman named Donna Edwards (D-Maryland) was testifying before Congress against the proposal for a government shutdown. Instead of uninterestingly going on and on about her views, she quoted the band the White Stripes! When I heard this I burst out laughing, because...well, Congress is kind of old. Exactly how many representatives would even know the reference? Even I as a fan didn't recognize the song she chose to quote, "Effect and Cause," which came off of their 2007 album, and didn't get much air play. But I'm all for shaking people up to get their attention, ya know?
This is "Effect and Cause," from which Congresswoman Edwards quoted.
What's even funnier is that we avoided the government shutdown. Does that mean rock and roll saved the day? Maybe, maybe not, but it makes me smile to think they at least had a small hand in it all :)
Last week a congresswoman named Donna Edwards (D-Maryland) was testifying before Congress against the proposal for a government shutdown. Instead of uninterestingly going on and on about her views, she quoted the band the White Stripes! When I heard this I burst out laughing, because...well, Congress is kind of old. Exactly how many representatives would even know the reference? Even I as a fan didn't recognize the song she chose to quote, "Effect and Cause," which came off of their 2007 album, and didn't get much air play. But I'm all for shaking people up to get their attention, ya know?
This is "Effect and Cause," from which Congresswoman Edwards quoted.
What's even funnier is that we avoided the government shutdown. Does that mean rock and roll saved the day? Maybe, maybe not, but it makes me smile to think they at least had a small hand in it all :)
Friday, April 1, 2011
Paper Sunflowers
About five years ago someone in my family got a paint-by-number kit for Christmas. Despite all his best intentions, thr recipient never actually used it, and it's been sitting in the basement in its box all these years.
It's a really cool image, too. You'd probably recognize it:
Yeah, Van Gogh's sunflowers! I thought it was too cool to ignore any longer, so I decided to start the painting this morning. I opened the containers of paint all excited...and they were rock solid. Dried up completely. So I was bummed, because then the blank canvas would be wasted. I thought about coloring it with markers, adding some sort of Andy Warhol twist to the image, since I only had blue, red, yellow, black, and red in my color arsenal. I decided against it, though. Crayons? No. Colored pencils? Don't have any. Then I got it: collage.
Let me make this clear: When it comes to the visual arts, I'm all vision, and hardly any implementation. Plus, I'm just not that gifted with it in the first place. I'm going to make a collage of the sunflowers, cut up almost all our magazines and spend a lot of time on it, but the finished product will still look like a 1st grader's. (not dissing you, 1st graders, it's just truth!)
Nevertheless, I can't wait to see how it turns out!
It's a really cool image, too. You'd probably recognize it:
Yeah, Van Gogh's sunflowers! I thought it was too cool to ignore any longer, so I decided to start the painting this morning. I opened the containers of paint all excited...and they were rock solid. Dried up completely. So I was bummed, because then the blank canvas would be wasted. I thought about coloring it with markers, adding some sort of Andy Warhol twist to the image, since I only had blue, red, yellow, black, and red in my color arsenal. I decided against it, though. Crayons? No. Colored pencils? Don't have any. Then I got it: collage.
Let me make this clear: When it comes to the visual arts, I'm all vision, and hardly any implementation. Plus, I'm just not that gifted with it in the first place. I'm going to make a collage of the sunflowers, cut up almost all our magazines and spend a lot of time on it, but the finished product will still look like a 1st grader's. (not dissing you, 1st graders, it's just truth!)
Nevertheless, I can't wait to see how it turns out!
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Smiling Sting Ray, I choose YOU!
My sister said, "You should write about sting rays!" Ok, I said. Then I told her how they smile, but she didn't believe me. Google Images proved her wrong!
I don't care what anybody says, I think sting rays are cute when they smile. I was in elementary school during the Pokemon craze, and looking at this picture I think Ash Ketchum would have definitely chosen this little guy if Pikachu hadn't gotten in the way. Sigh. You couldn't pay me to watch the last few versions of Pokemon, but golly, the original storyline with Ash, Misty, and Brock was gold. I remember watching the series premier, playing the card game, playing the video game. Correction, catch me on a relapse day and I still play the video game. (FYI, I always started out with Bulbasaur. Best decision ever.)
So, little Sting up there is cute, but you wouldn't want to get stung by one. According to that never-ending well of information, Wikipedia, sting rays don't actively attack humans, but they will if you provoke/tease/step on them them. If you get stung, the bite swells up, you get crampy from the venom, and then it might get infected. So go to the zoo or Google Images instead. : )
Sunday, March 27, 2011
A host of different things...
After being sick all through spring break, I'm finally on the mend. The last few days I've been really excited about college this fall, which is weird, because for a long time I was dreading it. There's something about the never ending winter that's made me want to push the fastforward button and be in late August so I can start at Concordia-Moorhead. I found out this week about my financial aid package (not too shabby) and what dorm I'll be in (the one connected to the music building!)
In other news, I'm
*trying to compose more music, trying to sort the good stuff from the crap (which is harder than it sounds), and actually finish something.
*on the lookout for summer jobs nearby. Blah. Figuring out a plan if I need to wing it. (I'm an expert weed puller/yard worker and house sitter)
*Trying to be all Buddha-like and live in the moment. Ha! Let's see how that works.
*Bracing for the ickiness that is the spring thaw. I like spring, just not the melting snow mixed with dog poop and worm smell that lasts for a couple weeks prior.
*Playing Bach's Invention in C minor. Playing anything by Bach is like broccoli--it's good for you and it helps you to be well balanced. The Inventions are super yummy and the C minor is really fun to play, what with the interweaving voices everywhere.
*Thinking about taking violin lessons this summer. I've been teaching myself for 2 years, and I'm at the point where I'm wonderfully average, but I'd like to seek some professional help so I don't hurt myself (literally). I never thought I'd like Bach so much, but the stuff he wrote for violin has been really inspiring me to practice so that one day I can play some great work of his! I don't plan to become the next Joshua Bell, but I'd like to learn enough to play some decent chamber and fiddle music for sure.
*Really wanting to travel. Anywhere. I'm going a little stir-crazy.
In other news, I'm
*trying to compose more music, trying to sort the good stuff from the crap (which is harder than it sounds), and actually finish something.
*on the lookout for summer jobs nearby. Blah. Figuring out a plan if I need to wing it. (I'm an expert weed puller/yard worker and house sitter)
*Trying to be all Buddha-like and live in the moment. Ha! Let's see how that works.
*Bracing for the ickiness that is the spring thaw. I like spring, just not the melting snow mixed with dog poop and worm smell that lasts for a couple weeks prior.
*Playing Bach's Invention in C minor. Playing anything by Bach is like broccoli--it's good for you and it helps you to be well balanced. The Inventions are super yummy and the C minor is really fun to play, what with the interweaving voices everywhere.
*Thinking about taking violin lessons this summer. I've been teaching myself for 2 years, and I'm at the point where I'm wonderfully average, but I'd like to seek some professional help so I don't hurt myself (literally). I never thought I'd like Bach so much, but the stuff he wrote for violin has been really inspiring me to practice so that one day I can play some great work of his! I don't plan to become the next Joshua Bell, but I'd like to learn enough to play some decent chamber and fiddle music for sure.
*Really wanting to travel. Anywhere. I'm going a little stir-crazy.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
be still
Midweek Lenten worship this noon followed a blessed bowl of chicken soup. "Be still and know that I am God..." takes on a different meaning this week. I'm on spring break and I've been still, except for the almost constant coughing over the past twelve days.
After worship we had the option to create a cross from a variety of objects--beads, popsickle sticks, feathers, twigs, shells, stones, wire. I chose from a box of found objects, driftwood and bark, a feather, beads in shades of blue.
The cross, the place where we connect with love. A good place to rest the eyes and be still.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The Week
Mondays are weird for me. After taking the weekend off from things like practicing, using the internet, where I essentially veg in my room listening to NPR from the beginning of "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me!" to the end of "Splendid Table," this routine of laziness makes productivity on Mondays pretty slow goin'. I don't exactly feel like I get the hang of things til Tuesday. Now it's Wednesday, and I got a list of things to do, and they will get done, no matter how many times I try to make excuses! Wish me luck.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Between trips
In the past five years, I've taken six trips to Tanzania. They are major travels, 14 to 16 days in duration. On most of the trips, I've been one of maybe two returning travelers. Each trip requires at least six months of preparation, and often several months worth of follow up work upon our return.
My last trip was in August 2010, my next will be July 2012. For the first time in years, I am not in the middle of pre- or post-travel work. I'm taking a breather.
I really miss the anticipation, the excitement, the wondering of what new experiences I'll have next. I miss my friends in Tanzania. I miss the bananas, the singing, the drumming, the walking, the conversations, the relationships. I miss getting to know a whole new crowd of travelers.
But there are compensations. Time with my kids, time to read, time to reflect. Time for jigsaw puzzles, long baths, short trips closer to home. Time for concerts and plays and dinners out. Time to host a visiting niece or nephew. Time to let my hair grow.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Encyclopedia
My dad read these encyclopedias when he was a kid--he really likes history.
My older brother spent hours flipping through them as a five year old, looking at the pictures and absorbing the information. And they still sit there on our shelf, still being used.
Most of the time if I have a question I'll ask my mom, or Google it, or when I ask my mom she'll tell me to Google it. But a lot of the time I still like to crack open these dusty smelling books. Most of the pictures are black and white, but every once in awhile a page will just jump out in color
I like looking through the books because I usually stumble on a random something that I hadn't noticed before. There are silly pictures illustrating how a bill gets passed into law in the Canadian government, and also of the dangers of space travel.
And since it was published in the 1960s, there's a bit of information on countries that don't exist anymore and gadgets that have been proved obsolete.
Even encyclopedias are in danger of becoming obsolete. But as long as they're around, I'll keep reading.
My older brother spent hours flipping through them as a five year old, looking at the pictures and absorbing the information. And they still sit there on our shelf, still being used.
Most of the time if I have a question I'll ask my mom, or Google it, or when I ask my mom she'll tell me to Google it. But a lot of the time I still like to crack open these dusty smelling books. Most of the pictures are black and white, but every once in awhile a page will just jump out in color
I like looking through the books because I usually stumble on a random something that I hadn't noticed before. There are silly pictures illustrating how a bill gets passed into law in the Canadian government, and also of the dangers of space travel.
And since it was published in the 1960s, there's a bit of information on countries that don't exist anymore and gadgets that have been proved obsolete.
Even encyclopedias are in danger of becoming obsolete. But as long as they're around, I'll keep reading.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
You'd think playing 6 instruments would be enough for me already, right?
Well, think again.
I was basically in bluegrass heaven on Saturday. After I did a music scholarship audition at Augsburg College (which went very well, thank you), my parents willingly accompanied me to entertain one of my newest musical interests, the mountain dulcimer.
I was born in the land of beautiful-- but flat--prairies, and ever since trips to both the Rocky and Appalachian Mountains, the culture that's evolved in those areas fascinate me. And what would the mountains--especially the Appalachians--be without the music of its people?
The name is pretty self-explain o' tory, but it looks like this:
It's not too common a sight in Minnesota, but the store we went to in Richfield had them. It's a place called Homestead Pickin' Parlor. The name alone tells you how awesome the place is, and it can basically cater to all your bluegrass/folky needs. If you want an interesting field trip, I would start there whether you're a serious musician or not.
When I asked the saleswoman if I could look at a mountain dulcimer, she sat me down with the last one they had in stock. It was a beauty and was shaped like an hourglass, with such a warm, bright, and happy tone. The saleswoman said she called it the "instant gratification instrument," because it's so easy to play, and anybody could learn in minutes. It had four strings tuned AAAD, and I sat with it in my lap, fingering the frets with the left hand and strumming with the right. After a few minutes I got the hang of it and was just about to abort my initial plan of only looking at the instrument. It was so cool and so fun to play!
But after seeing the price tag, I thought it better to stick with my plan. It wasn't an outrageous price, I just want to see if I can find good quality with a good deal. No impulse dulcimer buying for me. I was told that they had just ordered a whole bunch more, which should be there in the next few weeks, so they're going to call me so I can come back in and try some more.
~~The audition earlier in the morning at Augsburg went well, I think. I always feel slightly awkward during the whole thing. Beforehand I was really calm, and then afterwords I felt this shaky adrennaline rush thinking "what did I just do?!"
But once I get down to it, I really did make a positive impression. I'm just glad the whole process is over!
Some colleges wanted me to play 4 songs, some only wanted two. So, after my four-piece audition, I brain dumped the two extra pieces, a Beethoven sonata and Barber's 1st Excursion. I just didn't play them for about three weeks. It's amazing to me what those three weeks have done to them. I don't play them badly, but I don't play them as sharply, either. Heck, even if I don't play them for a couple of days they--by my own weird standards--start to suck.
Rachmaninoff said, "If I don't practice for a day, I notice. If I don't practice for two days, my critics notice. If I don't practice for three days, everybody notices." I would say that Rachmaninoff's worst performance is probably still better than my best, but he has a point. At the level that I'm at--and the next one that I'm aspiring to--I can't really afford to slack off. Except today, of course. Shoveling snow after a blizzard so I can get out of the driveway is a pretty good excuse, I would think.
Well, think again.
I was basically in bluegrass heaven on Saturday. After I did a music scholarship audition at Augsburg College (which went very well, thank you), my parents willingly accompanied me to entertain one of my newest musical interests, the mountain dulcimer.
I was born in the land of beautiful-- but flat--prairies, and ever since trips to both the Rocky and Appalachian Mountains, the culture that's evolved in those areas fascinate me. And what would the mountains--especially the Appalachians--be without the music of its people?
The name is pretty self-explain o' tory, but it looks like this:
It's not too common a sight in Minnesota, but the store we went to in Richfield had them. It's a place called Homestead Pickin' Parlor. The name alone tells you how awesome the place is, and it can basically cater to all your bluegrass/folky needs. If you want an interesting field trip, I would start there whether you're a serious musician or not.
When I asked the saleswoman if I could look at a mountain dulcimer, she sat me down with the last one they had in stock. It was a beauty and was shaped like an hourglass, with such a warm, bright, and happy tone. The saleswoman said she called it the "instant gratification instrument," because it's so easy to play, and anybody could learn in minutes. It had four strings tuned AAAD, and I sat with it in my lap, fingering the frets with the left hand and strumming with the right. After a few minutes I got the hang of it and was just about to abort my initial plan of only looking at the instrument. It was so cool and so fun to play!
But after seeing the price tag, I thought it better to stick with my plan. It wasn't an outrageous price, I just want to see if I can find good quality with a good deal. No impulse dulcimer buying for me. I was told that they had just ordered a whole bunch more, which should be there in the next few weeks, so they're going to call me so I can come back in and try some more.
~~The audition earlier in the morning at Augsburg went well, I think. I always feel slightly awkward during the whole thing. Beforehand I was really calm, and then afterwords I felt this shaky adrennaline rush thinking "what did I just do?!"
But once I get down to it, I really did make a positive impression. I'm just glad the whole process is over!
Some colleges wanted me to play 4 songs, some only wanted two. So, after my four-piece audition, I brain dumped the two extra pieces, a Beethoven sonata and Barber's 1st Excursion. I just didn't play them for about three weeks. It's amazing to me what those three weeks have done to them. I don't play them badly, but I don't play them as sharply, either. Heck, even if I don't play them for a couple of days they--by my own weird standards--start to suck.
Rachmaninoff said, "If I don't practice for a day, I notice. If I don't practice for two days, my critics notice. If I don't practice for three days, everybody notices." I would say that Rachmaninoff's worst performance is probably still better than my best, but he has a point. At the level that I'm at--and the next one that I'm aspiring to--I can't really afford to slack off. Except today, of course. Shoveling snow after a blizzard so I can get out of the driveway is a pretty good excuse, I would think.
Monday, February 14, 2011
I'm really not doing a good job of keeping this blog a regular thing, but I'll keep trying!
I like to read a lot of books about how to write, hoping they'll inspire me or give me the one secret that will write a novel for me. But then I remember that writing is not supposed to be done in a matter of seconds. Not good writing, anyways. Everything you've got is supposed to be invested in it, and to hell with other people. I try to take that attitude, but when I finish what I write, be it a blog post, journal entry or a song, lots of times I find myself second guessing it. The trick is to find out whether you're second guessing because you want people to like your hard work, which is actually quite good, or because you actually really suck. (How's that for a profound quote.)
The task of writing itself is so simple. Hold pencil in hand, apply pressure to paper, repeat. That fools me into thinking writing stories or articles is just as simple. But if I know anything, I know how to practice. This blog has been helping me practice, and I appreciate any feeback I get, good or bad. I'm sturdy like a lobster and can take anything you throw at me. (yes, I'm quoting "Lilo and Stitch!)
Now, for something that seems random but really isn't. My favorite author is Neil Gaiman and my favorite PBS kids show is "Arthur." If I ever become a category on Jeopardy, you will be glad to know this. And do you know what happened? A few months ago, Neil Gaiman made a guest appearance on "Arthur," in an episode called "Falafelosophy," and I was flipping out. Cartoon Neil was giving advice to the character Sue Ellen, who was trying to find her "Inner Neil" and write a graphic novel. I found it extremely funny and encouraging. So, watch it, enjoy, and hopefully, write.
I like to read a lot of books about how to write, hoping they'll inspire me or give me the one secret that will write a novel for me. But then I remember that writing is not supposed to be done in a matter of seconds. Not good writing, anyways. Everything you've got is supposed to be invested in it, and to hell with other people. I try to take that attitude, but when I finish what I write, be it a blog post, journal entry or a song, lots of times I find myself second guessing it. The trick is to find out whether you're second guessing because you want people to like your hard work, which is actually quite good, or because you actually really suck. (How's that for a profound quote.)
The task of writing itself is so simple. Hold pencil in hand, apply pressure to paper, repeat. That fools me into thinking writing stories or articles is just as simple. But if I know anything, I know how to practice. This blog has been helping me practice, and I appreciate any feeback I get, good or bad. I'm sturdy like a lobster and can take anything you throw at me. (yes, I'm quoting "Lilo and Stitch!)
Now, for something that seems random but really isn't. My favorite author is Neil Gaiman and my favorite PBS kids show is "Arthur." If I ever become a category on Jeopardy, you will be glad to know this. And do you know what happened? A few months ago, Neil Gaiman made a guest appearance on "Arthur," in an episode called "Falafelosophy," and I was flipping out. Cartoon Neil was giving advice to the character Sue Ellen, who was trying to find her "Inner Neil" and write a graphic novel. I found it extremely funny and encouraging. So, watch it, enjoy, and hopefully, write.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Hilary Hahn and Josh Ritter
In the history of music, there've been a lot of artists who team up with other artists, and when you hear their names together, you think "Huh?"
Bing Crosby and David Bowie, Allison Krauss and Robert Plant, M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel, Placido Domingo and John Denver...some were good and some were just weird.
But I was perusing YouTube today, and guess who I found? World-renowned violinist Hilary Hahn performing with the wonderful indie-alternative-folk singer Josh Ritter!
Maybe you know who Hahn is, but not Ritter. He is an independent musician that I first heard of a few years ago on Minnesota Public Radio. He writes great tunes to go with deep, poetic lyrics. His gravelly voice reminds me of Bob Dylan, but unlike Dylan, he looks like he's having fun while performing.
Hahn started out as a violin prodigy, studying from the age of 3, going to the Curtis Institute at 10, and signing onto her first recording contract when she was 16.
She's probably one of the greatest American violinists today.
I wondered how the two ever met, and found out that Hahn and Ritter's families were old friends. The two musicians decided to tour together in 2008.
I listen to music spanning over many genres, and honestly, I don't think I've ever heard such a great collaboration between two totally different musicians. They just bumped Allison Krauss and Robert Plant to #2 on my list.
If you watch the video of Hahn and Ritter playing his tune "Bone of Song" in Switzerland, there was something in the beginning that I found interesting. The duo came out for their encore, and Hahn basically told the audience, "This isn't classical music, but I'm going to play it, and if you don't like it you can leave." Then in another video from later in the evening, Ritter thanks the audience for sticking around to hear his brand of folk music, when they usually expect Mozart or Bach. And I'm sure he liked the change of venues from a rowdy bar in New York to a concert hall in Europe.
If you look and listen closely, there are lots of ways classical music has shaken its reputation of being an institution of snobby, stuffy old birds who want to hear their classical greatest hits: Conductors are actually talking to/with the audience about repetoire, more contemporary and avant-garde works are being performed, and there's a seemingly endless stream of young talent who draw inspiration and technique from many different wells. But there's still not a lot of sanctioned mixing between the classical and the popular worlds. I say, why not? The last chamber music concert I was at, the young conducter and violin soloist not only was a captivating performer well-schooled in Bach and Sebelius, but also toured with bands as a jazz violinist. I didn't even know jazz violin existed!
I think that through the collaboration with musicians of different styles, it gives the artists and listeners a chance to learn. Ritter himself has said he gained a new appreciation for Schubert after working with Hahn, and he loved strumming along to Paganini with her, even though he wasn't a classically trained guitarist. Hahn loved that she was challenged to improvise her solos, and just do something totally different for her regular audience.
I think it'd be cool to see more collaborations like these in the music world. It would make up for the Crosby/Bowie, Domingo/Denver pairings, at least.
Bing Crosby and David Bowie, Allison Krauss and Robert Plant, M. Ward and Zooey Deschanel, Placido Domingo and John Denver...some were good and some were just weird.
But I was perusing YouTube today, and guess who I found? World-renowned violinist Hilary Hahn performing with the wonderful indie-alternative-folk singer Josh Ritter!
Maybe you know who Hahn is, but not Ritter. He is an independent musician that I first heard of a few years ago on Minnesota Public Radio. He writes great tunes to go with deep, poetic lyrics. His gravelly voice reminds me of Bob Dylan, but unlike Dylan, he looks like he's having fun while performing.
Hahn started out as a violin prodigy, studying from the age of 3, going to the Curtis Institute at 10, and signing onto her first recording contract when she was 16.
She's probably one of the greatest American violinists today.
I wondered how the two ever met, and found out that Hahn and Ritter's families were old friends. The two musicians decided to tour together in 2008.
I listen to music spanning over many genres, and honestly, I don't think I've ever heard such a great collaboration between two totally different musicians. They just bumped Allison Krauss and Robert Plant to #2 on my list.
If you watch the video of Hahn and Ritter playing his tune "Bone of Song" in Switzerland, there was something in the beginning that I found interesting. The duo came out for their encore, and Hahn basically told the audience, "This isn't classical music, but I'm going to play it, and if you don't like it you can leave." Then in another video from later in the evening, Ritter thanks the audience for sticking around to hear his brand of folk music, when they usually expect Mozart or Bach. And I'm sure he liked the change of venues from a rowdy bar in New York to a concert hall in Europe.
If you look and listen closely, there are lots of ways classical music has shaken its reputation of being an institution of snobby, stuffy old birds who want to hear their classical greatest hits: Conductors are actually talking to/with the audience about repetoire, more contemporary and avant-garde works are being performed, and there's a seemingly endless stream of young talent who draw inspiration and technique from many different wells. But there's still not a lot of sanctioned mixing between the classical and the popular worlds. I say, why not? The last chamber music concert I was at, the young conducter and violin soloist not only was a captivating performer well-schooled in Bach and Sebelius, but also toured with bands as a jazz violinist. I didn't even know jazz violin existed!
I think that through the collaboration with musicians of different styles, it gives the artists and listeners a chance to learn. Ritter himself has said he gained a new appreciation for Schubert after working with Hahn, and he loved strumming along to Paganini with her, even though he wasn't a classically trained guitarist. Hahn loved that she was challenged to improvise her solos, and just do something totally different for her regular audience.
I think it'd be cool to see more collaborations like these in the music world. It would make up for the Crosby/Bowie, Domingo/Denver pairings, at least.
On the journey
Photo: a present to yourself. Sift through all the photos of you from the past year. Choose one that best captures you; either who you are, or who you strive to be. Find the shot of you that is worth a thousand words. Share.
This photo was taken in August by Pastor Randy. Our group was walking back from the village of Mahove to our bus for a return trip to Tungamalenga. We were walking because Mahove is very remote, up a mountain, several kilometers off the dirt road. Every other time I've been there, I'd taken a Land Rover and had to replace a tire that was punctured along the way.
We had been to Mahove to talk about bringing water to this sprawling village. The women and children walk about 3 miles one way to get water for their village. Men don't fetch water. There is a wonderful, inspiring Bibi (grandmother) in the village who has persevered in her quest to bring water to this village. She visits the parish office (miles away) and continues to ask for help in bringing water to the village. We have heard this request for several years, and finally the parish placed this need as the number one priority on their list of partnership projects.
So in the village, we had met this time with local government officials. It's important to talk through the details with all the stakeholders in a project like this. Sometimes we'd like to just go in and make the project happen, but we've learned to listen first and follow the pace of our African partners.
I like a couple things about this photo. I have a newly framed enlargement of it on my wall at home, and every time I look at it I'm compelled to walk toward it. Is it because of the path? or to get a closer look? It draws me in, every time.
I like it because it puts me in perspective. Yes, it's a picture of me walking alongside Pastor Naftal, on the path from Mahove toward Makifu. I like that we are holding hands and are deep in conversation. But we are so small on this path in the vast landscape. What we're doing is important, but it's just part of something so much larger than we ourselves.
As I go from 2010 into 2011, I want to remember to enjoy the journey and all that it brings--the sweat, the effort, the long walks, the conversation, the purpose, the holding hands, the vast landscape, and being a small piece of something much larger than myself.
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