The Other Side of Sunset

Ok...so at this point I'm sure none of you will be surprised to learn that I am officially in love with Lake Michigan.

Check this out...

Last night when I drove up to Regenstein Hall (one of the main NU music buildings) for my evening practice session, the water was spectacular. Only the merest folds of wetness were lapping against the shore...I can't imagine a lake of this size being more calm. There was not a breath of wind and all was noticeably hushed. Athough the sun had long since set, the light reflecting off a tin-blue sky gave the barely-ruffed water a radiant sheen of opalescence like the oily glint of a dragonfly's wing. The base of the sky on the eastern horizon was bathed in a deep blue and melted up into the waning twilight through shades of dusty pink and orange.

I took 13 or 14 pictures in the 5 minutes this particular moment lasted...and of course very little of the scene's true magic comes through in any of them. I found myself wishing I were a gifted painter...able to render a quiet spectacle of color into permanence from memory.

The Library Saga

Thank you again to all of you who have been reading and commenting. It is a great encouragement to know there are people out there who support me and I appreciate all of your kind words, insights and Movie recommendations (thanks aunt Janice! Yes, I've certainly heard very interesting things by and about Temple Grandin--I'll have to watch for that movie.)

In my lesson today Charlie asked how I was doing. I replied that I was feeling pretty overwhelmed, but that I try to start every day fresh.

"Well, then let me ask you this," he quipped, "Do you know the difference between a person who is sane--who's basically got things together, and one who is just off their rocker? There's really just one thing: the ability for that person to wake up in the morning and feel hope--'start fresh' as you say. So at least you know you're not insane!"

Though there have already been a few days since the beginning of school when I've felt so mentally and physically taxed by what I have to do (and what I worry I'll have to do) that I've gone to bed choking back tears, usually (and a big thanks goes out to Rob for talking me down on more than a few occasions) I have been able to pull myself up the next day and try to make the most of whatever time I have to work. And good things have been happening. I still worry that I don't have the chops to effectively practice everything I'm required to learn. There's just so much new and challenging rep to get under my belt and it all has to be perfect by next week...or tomorrow! Still, I've done my best to be efficient in the practice room and for the most part have surprised myself by what I've been able to pull off. For my lesson next week though Charlie's assigned me FIVE etudes, a bit of a solo, and a couple excerpts...all I can do is my best.

Yesterday was the first rehearsal of the Northwestern University Symphony Orchestra (NUSO). I have been assigned to this group for the quarter and am playing 2nd trumpet on Bruckner 7 for our first concert. We spent all of yesterday's rehearsal first running the whole symphony and then going back a little to touch up a few transitions. It's an awesome piece! A great showpiece for brass and a real chop killer. Bruckner always writes very lyrically expansive, beautifully rich, and massively deep brass lines that are reminiscent of his principal instrument: the organ. By the time we reached the end of the final movement there were drops of blood pooling underneath the back row of brass...well, not really, but after playing so hard it certainly felt as though there should have been.

I also spent some time yesterday trying to navigate the utterly confusing (but architecturally beautiful) NU Library. I have to do a report/in-class presentation on the American poet Wallace Stevens and needed to find some reputable sources (anything except wiki!). I spent some time on line, collected a few call numbers, and set out to track them down.

The library's main collection is divided between three towers that are connected by a large central area containing computer labs and some special collections. Once I figured out in which tower my call numbers could be found (the south tower), it took me a good 10 minutes to find the correct stairway that would take me there. It's one of those buildings where one stairway will take you up to the 2nd floor, but the one that will get you to the 3rd and 4th is in a different location entirely.

Once I made it to the south tower, the correct floor of the south tower, and then found the room containing the group of books I was looking for, I found that the stacks were organized, very atypically, like rays of a sun emanating from a small central circle of study desks and catalogue computers. It's aesthetically pretty to be sure, but trying to figure out how the numbers progress from one "ray" to another is definitely not intuitive. Once I found my books, my next task was getting back to the exit...which (as you can maybe imagine in a giant round room that appears to be the same wherever you're standing and is further obscured by oddly spaced metal shelves) was a bit of a task. Even with exit signs posted here and there I found it difficult to make it back to where I started.

I'm hoping that future treks into the library will prove to be a bit easier. NU's library has an exceptional collection (the 10th largest university library in the country) and it would be a shame for me not to take advantage of it just because I may require a topographical map, good shoes, and sufficient food and water in order to navigate its halls.

Difficult

It's been a tough week.

In many ways it seems that though I'm 10 years older than most of my fellow students, I'm 10 years behind them. I feel I have so much to catch up on that I almost wish I were coming in as a freshman! And even then, I think I've already mentioned how astounding this year's freshmen are...

NU will certainly be a challenge, but I have to remember that's precisely why I came here!

My thought for the week is something I came across while doing my required reading assignment for American Art Song...

"The difficult appeals through the traces it carries of another world in which it would be easy."

From Simon Firth: "Performing Rites: on the value of popular music"

So...once again...here I go "starting today".

Solo Class...and the Moon

Two posts in one day...I clearly have waaaay too much free time.

That won't last long!

I'm writing for two reasons tonight...

One: I played for solo class today, as did all the new NU students...three masters, one doctoral, and four freshmen. I had a horrible bout of the shakes and nervous brain, so to put it nicely, I didn't play up to my standard. More truthfully, I really sucked it up. I also sounded poor next to all the others that played. I do have to say...there are some FREAKING AMAZING players here--some real honest-to-god prodigies. That's awesome on one hand. I'll be surrounded by and playing with some inspiring musicians. On the other hand, it's going to be difficult to keep my own esteem in check. When I hear great players like I did today and then fall flat on my face in front of them it's difficult to believe anyone when they tell me that I deserve to be here. After the class was over everyone came up and said "great job!", but I think that's mostly just because everyone is really nice and that's just what people do in this class. Well, I guess that by starting at the bottom, there's nowhere for me to go but up...is that a good way to look at it?

Two: the moon is BEAUTIFUL tonight! I went for a walk along the lake and it was slowly rising above the water.

All along the NU lake shore there are massive piles of rocks--many of which are painted with artwork, graduation memorials, marriage proposals, and general poetry. I liked the combination here of the smiley face with the moon...the GF proposal is cute too...if a little juvenile.

As it got darker, Jupiter began to emerge from the haze...what a sight!

Back to School

My first day of classes was technically yesterday, but as most of my performance classes don't officially get underway until next week, it was a somewhat uneventful day.

I did have my first lesson with Charlie. We went over his and Barbara's comments on both my auditions--the pool audition as well as my audition for NU--and to sum up his advice, the biggest hurdle he feels I'll have to overcome is my own self doubt, an internal emotion that externally colors my appearance on stage and has some detrimental effects on the music I make. Jokingly, he said I might need a therapist to work through some of these issues...I didn't tell him that I had already made an appointment to see one.

This morning I attended the first meeting of a real academic class!!! That's right...I'm gonna have readings and homework, papers and quizzes, and a big final project, which in this case will be the production of a music video based on a 20th century American art song. Why am I excited about this? Well, I'm one of those weirdos that actually likes learning and academics. I've been aching to take a class of some kind for years...and now my time has come with "American Art Song" led by professor Davies. Brain cells...get set!

The class is hugely (and perhaps predictably) dominated by vocal majors, but there are a couple of instrumentalists as well as a token english major (which is good, because much of our study will be devoted to the poetry of art song). Today in fact, we began by studying a poem by James Agee that was set to music by Samuel Barber...

SURE on this shining night

Of starmade shadows round,

Kindness must watch for me

This side the ground.

The late year lies down the north.

All is healed, all is health.

High summer holds the earth.

Hearts are whole.

Sure on this shining night I weep for wonder wandering far alone

Of shadows on the stars.

What a lovely poem.

I was immediately drawn in by the references to stars...starmade shadows no less. In order for stars to cast shadows themselves there must be total darkness and no moon. I pictured myself wandering alone under a summer desert sky...a dim shadow cast around me by blue starlight and my eyes drawn up in wonder at the vast milky way above. The words carry with them a kind of pleading, which is accentuated by Barber's melody--a slight rise in the voice at the end of the first three lines--inquisitive, questioning. Then, in hushed tones, he prays for a benevolent force to "watch" for him as he moves upon his journey toward an inevitable destiny: "this side the ground"...in other terms may be: this side of the grave.

As the speaker turns his thoughts to the future north, (possibly another astronomical reference to the setting of the Milky Way that happens, at least in the northern hemisphere, as autumn progresses to winter...in that time, the wanderer would cast no shadow as the starscape above would have become significantly more sparse...though if you look on the bright side, we get to see the Orion nebula instead!) his sense of melancholy unassumingly persists. When he proclaims "All is healed, all is health" (the musical climax of the song) is he actually sadly and distantly referring to other's health...other's healing...as he is left feeling less than whole?

In the last two lines I find it exceptionally interesting that Agee uses the words "shadows ON the stars" which, if you think about it, evokes quite a different image than that of the brilliant milky way smiling down upon a soul in wonder. I didn't bring this up in class, but I wonder if this might suggest that the melancholy and inquiring heart of our lonely wanderer has left its own imprint, a shadow, on the heavens...or at least how he is able to see them.

Viva Muti!

Yesterday afternoon I and some fellow NU music grad students took the el from Evanston to the heart of downtown Chicago and watched a free outdoor concert featuring the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by its new music director Ricardo Muti.

"Festa Muti" took place in Millennium Park (see my previous 2010 post: "Picture of the Month: June) and was attended, I found out on NPR this morning, by 25,000 people. There were so many people in fact that the area was gated off and about 10 minutes after we got there, guards stopped letting anyone in in order to prevent a safety hazard. As my eyes travelled across this great sea of humanity I had visions of a possible stampede...in the event of a sudden panic, could a mass of classical music buffs be capable of trampling people on their frantic way to an exit? Considering that people have been trampled to death during various religious gatherings worldwide and in Walmart at Christmastime, I decided that pretty much anything was possible and that if push came to shove, symphony heads could potentially be just as dangerous as rabid soccer fans or wild congregates at a death-metal show.

We found a place at the very back of the seating area among a bunch of people who'd spread blankets over the concrete and were nibbling crackers and imbibing various beverages. Seeing the stage would obviously be impossible, but I was assured by a rowdy but friendly young couple, Mike and Meredith, sitting nearby that the sound system was "kickass" and that we'd be able to enjoy a rich nuanced performance despite being out in the open air.

If you Judge by the general stereotypes, Mike seemed to be about the last person in the world you'd expect to see at a symphony concert...voluntarily. He plowed through several cans of bud lite and about half a dozen cigarettes during the show and was constantly up and about yelling stuff like "Go Bears!!!" and pulling mini pranks on passersby...nothing malicious...in fact the people he hassled would usually move on with a high 5 and a quiet chuckle. Mike said that he'd just started taking violin lessons 3 months ago and loves it. "All my friends were learning guitar, but I was like, I wanna do somethin' different, and violin rocks! You can do so much with it...classical stuff, and like, the Irish music and everything. Classical music is so awesome! I love it!" It was pretty refreshing to hear his story. It seems that a lot of people talk about learning an instrument later in life, but will rarely follow through...then there's this guy, a trucker with no musical upbringing at all, who is totally jazzed about violin and classical music...go figure. His fiance, a nurse, said she used to play the flute--maybe she played a part in influencing his decision.

The orchestra played:

Verdi...Overture to La Forza del Destino

Liszt...Les Preludes

Tchaikovsky...Romeo and Juliet

and a personal favorite of mine...

Respighi...The Pines of Rome

The orchestra sounded glorious and Muti's interpretations were infused with passion and sensitivity. After each piece the park erupted into thunderous applause and thousands waved little white "Festa Muti" flags that had been passed out free to all by volunteers before the performance began. As evening approached and the sky began to darken behind a featureless blanket of gray, lights in the windows of at least three nearby skyscrapers were lit up to celebrate the occasion. It was thrilling to see such spirit for the "home team"!

After the final booming notes of "Pines" drifted away into the city glow, the sky was suddenly lit by an ecstatic burst of fireworks and the multitudes cheered!

As our group meandered through throngs of concertgoers on our way out of the park, Maestro Muti got up on stage once more to say some brief words of "thank you", put a plug in for the CSO's exciting upcoming performances, and remind everyone that "the orchestra can sound even better inside the concert hall".

"Yeah, but it's not free!" I heard someone retort.

True enough.

Pool Auditions

The trumpet "pool" auditions were today--sort of a grand anxious climax to a week of orientation sessions and academic placement exams. I'd started preparing for this audition a couple months ago when the letter containing the repertoire was mailed out, and up untill my arrival on campus had felt fairly confident that I'd do well. My only misgivings stemmed from the chop "issues" I've been negotiating with over the last couple of weeks, along with the thought I've had lingering in the back of my mind that after a somewhat mediocre audition for NU this spring, I really needed to justify my presence at NU...particularly to Barbara Butler.

The audition consisted of Charlier etude #6, Arban's Characteristic study #12, the opening of Mahler 7, Lt. Kiji, the slow solo from Gershwin's Piano Concerto, and the last movement's opening of Dvorak 8. I felt great about everything except (predictably perhaps) the Mahler...which requires playing a melodic line containing 4 high Cs in close proximity...one right after the other. It is a glorious segment of the piece to listen to, but it addresses perhaps my #1 trumpet-playing difficulty: high range. Before today I had only been able to play through this entire excerpt once...that magical experience having taken place about a month ago.

I'd had another bad-chop day yesterday and was hoping that a good overnight rest would leave my lips feeling refreshed and ready for the task at hand. I warmed up carefully this morning. My sound started out rather "hairy" and strained, so I did everything in my power to release the tension in my body and mind in order to purify and add a singing brilliance to the core of my tone...this means that I rested as much if not more than I actually played. After a few minutes things seemed to improve a bit and I spent some time just starting a couple of the pieces...pulling off a good beginning can do a lot to increase a player's chances of continuing success in a performance.

I could hear other players warming up all around me and they all sounded fabulous. During my meeting with Charlie Geyer yesterday he told me that because of my age and experience I'd likely serve as a mentoring figure to some of the younger students, but as I continue to listen to the glorious playing of my fellows, I know that the mentoring will be going both ways.

It is important in an audition to keep from being influenced or distracted by other players. I reminded myself that I deserve to be here as much as anyone else. I have talent. I've worked hard and done as much preparation as could be expected. There are things I have to offer in my playing that are unique and valuable. I am here to learn and improve.

I went down to the audition location about 5 minutes before I was to play. As I stood outside the door of the Regenstein recital hall I could hear someone else finishing up their audition...once again a wonderful performance. When it was my turn I took a deep breath and walked out on stage with as much assurance as I could muster. Charlie and Barbara were sitting at a table on one end of the stage and I took a seat in front of a music stand upon which all the audition excerpts were laid out in order. My stomach was churning and I could feel my hands tremble slightly, but I started in on the material with an attitude of letting go..."just play" I told myself.

My performance certainly wasn't anywhere near perfect. I had a couple of near catastrophic stumbles, but kept going with everything I had in me. My main failing during my entrance audition this past spring had been stopping, making a face, and actually vocalizing my displeasure when the first piece I played had begun horribly. Barbara had felt (correctly) that this was a highly unprofessional way to react, so one of my main objectives with this first audition was to behave as professionally as I knew how...I really wanted to make a better impression on Barbara.

A couple of the excerpts (the Gershwin in particular) I think went fairly well, and despite a couple hiccoughs, the Charlier was also decent. When I had finished, they said "Welcome to Northwestern!" and that I'd find out about my ensemble assignment early next week. Charlie said "That was a good first audition." and Barbara said "It was nice to hear you."

I exited the stage and walked back to my instrument locker trying to institute a pattern of thought that would allow me to take the audition I'd just experienced and use it as a stepping stone to better things. Everything I've seen of the music department so far has given me the impression that the Beinen School is a positive, dedicated, and supportive community of musicians ready to learn and work together. I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain by being here. Cheers to the future!

A Sad Ending

Here's the unfortunate ending to the story in my last blog post:

When that bomb went off it took the life of a 21 year old man who was loved and admired by his friends and family, but who'd also battled depression for most of his life. Those who knew him said his suicide, though a great tragedy, was "not a complete surprise". The man had moved to Evanston from Madison Wisconsin in order to get better care for his psychiatric ailments and had enrolled at a local community college. Everyone agreed that he seemed to be doing much better...

The second bomb found on the scene and later detonated by police was most likely a back up in case the first was ..."unsuccessful"... what a horrible word to use in this case.

This story saddens me. I (as I know many have) have had my own battles with depression and I'd be lying if I were to say that I've never considered...well...ending things. A part of me feels very ashamed to have somewhat sensationalized a story that ultimately proved to be such an intimate tragedy.

My heart goes out to all those who've ever reached those depths where the soul seems absent and the mind is captive to an oppressive void of despair, and I thank those who've patiently and lovingly assisted me during the times I've found myself wandering through that terrible darkness.