Think Denk

Currently sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for my roommate to finish practicing so that I can practice, looking gloomily out the window at a raincloud-infested sky, and revisiting pianist Jeremy Denk's ingenious blog. Here are some of my favorite parts:

It is one good definition of music’s purpose: this idealized notion of emotion, music as preserver or sustainer of emotion, as timeless place where a feeling lasts seemingly forever. Music is so excellent at creating states and spells, places where things can sing themselves out to the last drop. The Romantic era is how we WISH emotions were: endlessly prolongable, leading to satisfying climaxes, etc. etc. But the Classical era is (perhaps) how emotions maybe actually are: subject to inconsistency, wavering, shifting, vanishing, elusive. There is a line between this desire for endlessness and this humorlessness.

The din [of the party] was...surface noise, insecurity, the continuous scratchy distraction, the sip of chardonnay, the fake smile, that made it impossible to be back in the lamplit room with piano in fantasyland … door closed, cup of coffee on shelf nearby, just you and the voiceleading, you and two stubbornly meaningful notes which don’t want to give up their meaning to just any old way of playing them.

Often the food at these things is so beautiful, I think of all the loving effort put into it, I feel sorry for it just sitting there. This transitions seamlessly into wondering how delicious it might be. In short, a combination of pity and gluttony makes me eat.

So totally and completely relatable. :)

Corniness is often a joy that has sat out too long, like a congealed skin on top of a soup. Congealed is the word: whatever elements keep the emotion fresh and moving are missing. Joy goes stale so quickly.

I would give you an audio example from our recent performance but an audience member with an excellent ear for the most profoundly fragile musical moments decided to cough through most of this section.

Hahahaha...

And then he [Brahms] folds everything in an embrace. He heads out to the edges of the keyboard, hugging all possible other pitches between widespread hands. For a moment the embrace is major-ish, (D-F#-A-C#), but only for those couple bars, paradise bars that can’t last, then F-sharp becomes F-natural, world of difference, and the beneficent embrace becomes tinged with sadness, like a wave of sadness, and then, the sadness having broken the embrace, we come slowly down the scale, A, G#, F#, E, D, C#, down the sixth (quintessential waltz-interval, summing everything up while bidding it farewell), each note to be played as the one you never want to leave behind. You can’t do better to express in musical notes how a person reluctantly leaves a hug, having not quite accepted departure and distance.

Just to depress myself further, I looked on a classical music forum, with the topic: what’s funny in classical music? And you get a ream of special examples (Haydn this, Malcolm Arnold that, moments here and there) and then eventually hilariously it gets lost in a very unfunny discussion of Nazism in Wagner. Sigh. No no NO, I want to say, stop it, humor is no special example, it’s not a side stream, it’s not vacuum cleaners and celebrity guests and props, it’s the beating heart, it’s one of the main currents, one of the most wonderful. These composers, through flashes of genius, tremendous insight in timing, nuance, all the tricks of comedians, acrobats, thinkers, clowns, poets … they taught us how to laugh in tones: the only challenge is not to forget their living lesson.

From The Kitchen

When we have a free night, S and I pick a recipe, write out a list, and make a trip to the grocery store. Then we come back, turn up some bossa nova (Brazilian jazz is the best cooking music!), and cook our hearts out. Here's a record of what we've made in the last 4 weeks. As S says, we are magnificent. As I say, beast mode.

Homemade macaroni and cheese.

Milk and spices thickening in the pan. Smells so good and looks so beautiful. :)

Just kidding, we didn't make the birthday cheese cake. But we did buy and eat it in about 2 days.

Video Blog #3: Chipmunk

Taken while hiking on the trail outside our apartment. Apparently baby chipmunks make this sound!

Politics

I think all politicians and world leaders should have at least one experience playing in the back of an orchestra section. The reason I love orchestra so much and want to pursue it for a living--besides for the stable income, fixed location, and obviously the music--is how much it teaches us about the psyche of a community. A superb orchestra is like a model of a perfect society, and an orchestra that can't play together is like...well, what America has turned into. Sure, the inner workings of politics are more complex than the inner workings of an orchestra, but the basic principles are the same. You need a) an insightful, respectful, and inspiring leader, b) intuitive and responsible sub-leaders, c) dedicated individuals who are willing to work just as hard as the leaders above them, and d) mutual appreciation among everyone. This week, rotated to the last stand of the orchestra as we battle our way through Shosty 10, I decided that group c, the dedicated individuals, are actually the most important aspect of an orchestra, more so than the sub-leaders and even the inspiring leader. But group c is also perhaps the hardest to come by.
When you sit in the front of an orchestra, there is so much to think about...being there for the conductor, and also ALWAYS being there for your section. One mistake you make can turn into the downfall of the whole orchestra. It's easy to forget about the people in the back, and it's easy to blame them when things go wrong, because you're so aware of your own investment and hard work. "Ugh, someone in the back keeps playing in the rest!" or "People behind me need to stop rushing," are common thoughts running through a concertmaster or principal's head. Sometimes it's true, the ones in the back are not as hard-working or technically competent. What impresses me most in an orchestra is when the players in the back are just as good/committed as the players in the front. And I do know that it's harder to sit in the back than the front...for a myriad of reasons, which I think are self-evident enough to not mention.
Today in rehearsal, our principal was making bow changes, and usually she passes the information to the stand behind her, and the message travels like a game of Telephone, to the back of the section. However, there's a point (at maybe fifth or sixth stand) where the message just doesn't get passed back anymore, and the rest of us have no idea what's going on. My stand partner was getting really annoyed at this, because it's unfair, and later we'll get blamed for not being uniform with the rest of the section.
This reminded me of a random incident that happened a few days ago. I was waiting for the bus, this trumpet-player introduced himself to me, and we started talking. He was really friendly, and when the bus came, we boarded and continued talking. At one point, a girl who was also on the bus requested to be let off at a street corner, and the bus driver told her no, she couldn't get off there, because he was in the left lane, and he couldn't just pull over to the opposite side of the street. Maybe he said it a bit harshly, I don't know, I wasn't paying much attention. But the trumpet-player found it very rude, and he immediately told the bus driver off for being out of line. By this point, everyone else in the bus had left, except me, the guy, and the bus driver. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, as the two guys embarked on a heated, long-winded argument. I won't go into details, but it got kind of nasty, with the bus driver saying some demeaning things, and the guy next to me defending himself hotly. Finally, we got off the bus, and that was that.
It made me think...about confrontation, and whether I'd be able to stand up for someone else (or myself) in a similar situation. Probably not. But I also found myself feeling bad for the bus driver. And then today in orchestra rehearsal, I started relating this occurrence to my thoughts on sitting in the back. I mean, bus drivers aren't on the very bottom of the totem pole when it comes to occupational hierarchy, but they're not high up either. I think these types of people (group c, in a way) can be very sensitive when they feel looked down upon. When I sit in the front of the orchestra, I know I have some authority, so I'm usually not defensive or insecure...I just feel lucky and try my best. When I'm in the back, it's easier to get offended and feel ignored, by something as simple as when the stand above doesn't bother to pass a message back. Similarly, it was probably easy for the bus driver to get riled up by what appeared to be scolding from a student ten years younger than him.
It makes sense that the most respected/effective conductors are the ones who have sat in the back of their orchestra at one point or another, and the best leaders are the ones who know what it's like to be at the bottom. (Dudamel!) That's why I really think the world would be a significantly better place if politicians played in orchestra. It's all related.

True Story

A couple days ago, I went to an orchestra concert here at Aspen. Program order was Debussy, Bartok, intermission, some modern piece, and then Ravel. We stayed until intermission and then left to catch a bus back home, because we were sleepy. It was quite a long wait for the next bus...by the time it finally arrived, the concert had definitely begun again and was probably halfway through Ravel. We boarded the bus along with other students, audience members etc. A guy in concert clothes (white tux, black pants) also got on, and a girl sitting near us told him, "Hey, great job on the concert!" He replied, "Thanks!" Then, she went, "So, you're done for the night? Aren't you in Ravel?" He froze with a bewildered look on his face, went, "OH!" and then dashed off the bus.
...Seriously?? I was too stunned to laugh.

Video Blog #2: French Toast

Today's video shows a glimpse of our kitchen, my two lovely roommates, and our developing cooking skills.

Breakfast for dinner! Yum yum yum. :)

Video Blog #1: Hail

Yesterday night, I was planning to upload photos I've taken thus far onto my computer, but I was too lazy. This morning, I lost my camera (along with my ID and apartment key) in the bathroom at school...so now I guess I'll have to resort to taking videos instead of photos for visual documentation of my time at Aspen. Well, that might be more fun anyway. Here's the first of what will hopefully become a consistent series of video blogs:

HAIL!!! The California girl inside of me was shocked and a little alarmed, but nobody else seemed fazed. I guess this is normal Colorado weather?

One on One

My old boyfriend told me once, "You're definitely a one-on-one girl, Jennifer." I think he was just making a simple observation, but one could easily take it as a compliment or criticism. There are people who just aren't good with big groups...in the midst of a crowd, they become seemingly quiet, mellow, and even boring/dull. If you are trustworthy and get them to yourself, they open up and show their true colors. I've always been aware of this type of people because, well, I'm pretty sure I'm one of them. What I haven't been aware of until recently is those on the other end of the social spectrum. We all know those people who shine in crowds, who are the life of the party, whose charisma and wit and creativity seem to grow with each additional person's attention. I admire this quality, because I could never in a million years embody it. But now I realize that sometimes, if you take these type of people out of the crowd and into a one-on-one situation, their personality either diminishes or changes altogether. I wonder if they are insecure about this the way I am insecure about being with tons of people.
I also wonder, about some people in particular, whether they are more true to themselves when they're with their big group of friends, or when they're with me.
Of course, there are those rare individuals who are the whole package; they shine whether they're with their best friend or a roomful of new acquaintances. Their good heart and friendliness and considerateness remains, regardless of the circumstance. But people like that come only once in a blue moon.