Conquering Fear...and Islamey

Islamey went well! More specifically, I performed Balakirev's Islamey yesterday (a piece which has haunted me in the past) at the Dallas Public Library Concert Series, and thankfully, it soared this time. (Check out my last couple of posts for a better explanation of my history with this piece).

I sat for what seemed like a long time before I started playing it, because I was really working up the courage to get through it! I love this piece and don't want fear to get in the way of sharing great music. This time, I made sure I was always in control of my tempos (they can easily run out-of-control in this piece) and at the same time, pushing an edge of excitement that is so important to the music.

Considering it's one of the hardest pieces in the repertoire, I have no qualms admitting that it still has room to grow (and perhaps room for even more speed!), but I am thrilled with how it went yesterday.

Check it out in the video bar below (on the right hand side), or you can find it on Youtube. If you can't watch the whole thing, at least listen to the last couple of minutes!

Redemption

In my last post, I mentioned something about a piece called "Islamey." Known as one of the most daunting piano pieces ever written, Islamey is admired and feared among many (including myself, I must admit). It's claim to infamy is that it is so difficult that the composer himself could not even play it.

I attempted this piece in 2005 at a competition in Calafornia. A young, invincible performer, I wondered how bad it could possibly be, and only practiced it for a couple of brief months before taking it on stage - at an international competition. I have rarely had a performance that I would describe as bad, but this could definitely have been described as such. Islamey presented challenges I had never encountered, and the pressure of the performance magnified every little slip by about a thousand. My arms tightened up (very rare for me), and I probably stopped breathing momentarily as I tried to get through this beast known as Islamey. It might not have been so bad had I not played it right after a Liszt Transcendental Etude, or so I tell myself...

But as with many things in life, now is the time for redemption. I have taken a six year break from this piece, and I have now worked up the guts to play it again, this time with more experience under my belt, more practice on the piece, and the same fearless determination I had before.

In 2 short weeks, I will be performing Islamey in recital in Dallas. I will be sure to write about how it goes!

Elbow Update

My elbows have been feeling much better! In fact, I've even gotten back into practicing the "Islamey" (one of the most challenging pieces in the piano repertoire, and known for the fact that it was too difficult for even the composer to play).

Speaking of difficult, I'm preparing for a concert in October with some pretty fierce pieces. I'm planning on including Schubert's Wanderer Fantasy, Balakirev's Islamey, the Mozart C minor Fantasy, and the Faure 6th Impromptu, along with some other pieces. I love challenging myself, although it can be scary to play such difficult pieces live! One of the best compliments I sometimes hear is when people describe my playing as fearless. As a performer, I have to take chances. I have to let the audience know I'm giving my absolute all. As one of my former teachers used to say right before I walked on stage," Take no prisoners!"

The past few months have been trying, but it looks like it's working out. I've made some adjustments, such as trying to practice in no more than 30 minute increments, sitting a little higher on the bench, sleeping in arm braces, rarely holding a cell phone to my ear, etc. But thankfully, my elbows are back in performance shape and I'm feeling good. More updates to come!

Second Chances

I have been a little off-radar the past few months, because I've had some elbow problems. Long story short, I started having some weakness in my 4th and 5th fingers and a bit of elbow pain. These symptoms may not be a big deal to most people, but bad for a pianist.

After seeing the doctor and having a nerve conduction study done, the doctors realized I had slightly pinched nerves in both elbows. Further, they did an ultrasound test of both elbows, which showed that my tricep muscle is pushing on the ulnar nerve every time I bend my elbows, caused by years and years of having my arms bent and muscles working at the piano.

Last week was terrifying. I was told that most likely, a surgeon would have to go in and cut out this part of my tricep that is pushing on the nerve! To me, double elbow surgery for a concert pianist equaled death of career, at least for a long while. Plus, there are no guarantees with surgery. What if something went wrong?

Then, I received my great relief. The orthopedic hand/elbow specialist informed me that the surgery for this is "big and bad", with a very long recovery, and that he didn't want to do it. Whew. The alternative is to wear a brace day and night for three months and try to keep my arms straight when at all possible. Great! But how does one play the piano with straight arms?!

The doctor asked if I knew of Barry Manilow. He said that he had the same problem, so he was known for sitting on a very high stool. The doc suggested that I alter my bench height, either farther back or higher up, so that my arms are not bent quite as much.

Some people might be discouraged by three+ months in a brace and having to change their bench position. But I have been given a second chance, and I am taking it! I'm back to practice, in full swing, and working on more promotion material each day. It took a time of realizing that musical ability is a gift and that I can't take it for granted, in order for me to...well, not take it for granted. In that light, I am very thankful for the elbow problems.

Repertoire and Recycling

Believe it or not, until I was about 23, my piano teachers would typically pick which pieces I was to learn, or they would at least strongly suggest what they thought would be best. Of course, there was some room for change, but I usually let them pick the music for me, trusting in their expert opinions.

I am now at a point where I do not have weekly lessons or a regular teacher looking over me. While I miss the guidance and critique, I appreciate a new and necessary freedom. Part of growth as a musician is discovering your passion and your strengths through repertoire. What I mean by that is, of all the plethora of great piano music, I have to choose pieces that I am both passionate about and that play to my strengths. Don't get me wrong: I'm completely for choosing pieces that play to one's weaknesses, but I play those privately for my own improvement and not so much for public performance.

When it comes to choosing my pieces now that I'm getting older, I find myself often "recycling" pieces that I may have played many years ago. There is a certain nostalgia that comes about when working a piece from years past, but more so, there is a new found maturity that is so evident, it makes the piece come alive. Fact: I am a much better musician today than I was in college. Because of this, if I take a piece I worked in college, it is going to be infinitely better today, simply because of the maturity and growth I've experienced as a musician.

As for new pieces that I've never played before, I must admit that I tend to be a bit fickle. I will adore a new work for the first week before getting bored with it and moving on to something different. Herein lies something I am missing -- a broad view. When my teachers would assign music, they had an idea of where I was going and what would be good for me. I never realized how difficult that is to see in oneself.

An Evening of Romance!

I'm preparing for a concert next week of all Romantic-era music. The program will be the Bach-Busoni Chaconne, Beethoven's Sonata Op. 109, Chopin's G minor Ballade, Franck's Prelude, Choral, and Fugue, Brahms' Opus 118, and a fun closer by Chabrier.

More and more, concert series and audiences really seem to eat up programs with a theme. I've heard some interesting themes throughout the years, one of the most creative being last year when pianist Wei-Yi Yang presented a whole concert of Birdsong-inspired pieces!

The danger of performing a whole concert of music from the one period is that everything might start sounding the same. What I've done to combat this is to pick pieces within the period that are somewhat diverse in their sounds. For instance, the Bach-Busoni Chaconne was originally a piece Bach composed for solo violin in 1720. Over 170 years later, Busoni came along and created a virtuoso Romantic piano transcription of the piece. It's essentially Baroque at it's core, but transformed into a Romantic showpiece. (I like to call this a Baroque piece in Romantic clothing).

The Beethoven Sonata I chose is one of his last three Sonatas composed before he died. Beethoven was a "bridge" composer from the Classical to the Romantic era, so his late Sonatas are definitely early Romantic pieces but still have underlying classical tendencies in style and form.

The Chopin and Brahms may have similar sounds to many listeners, but Brahms really has a lot of classical/traditional influences whereas Chopin sounds to me more like a free spirit.

Franck's Prelude, Choral, and Fugue would require an entry to itself! All I can say is that the composition is masterful and that he has created a masterpiece in this work that does not sound like any other piece I know of.

And, every good concert needs a strong closer. I've chosen Chabrier's Scherzo-Valse, which is a brief, fun, flashy piece. Some would argue that Chabrier is an example of early Impressionist music, but I consider him a sort of blend or transitional figure between the Romantic and Impressionistic periods.

Enough with the analysis and on with the practice for the concert next week. I'll be sure to post how it goes.

Location, Location, Relocation...?

I've taken a little bit of a posting sabbatical due to relocating across the country!

One of the huge perks of professional musicians is that, in a way, we can live virtually anywhere, so long as we have our instrument and a decent airport. Sure, it's more ideal to settle somewhere long-term and make local connections, but our home location can be more flexible than many careers.

Are some locations better to live in for musicians than others? Absolutely -- or at least different places have their pros (and dreaded cons) when it comes to being a musician. For instance, living in New York City seems like the perfect life for a classical musician, right? It's a city saturated with great artistic talent, full of potential connections, and bustling with opportunity. Yet there are still a ton of "starving artists" in NYC. One can infer from this that there are just too many fantastic musicians all located in the vast competitive market that is New York City. So, even though there are plenty of opportunities, there's only enough for the very best (or more likely, those with the best connections or management!).

Ok, scratch living in NYC. It's not the place for a small-town raised girl like myself anyway. Where are some other good places for artists to live? I am no artist's job-placement expert, but as a pianist who has lived in seven states, varying from rural towns and smaller cities to living in the city of Boston, I'd say that being near a major city is preferable. I love small towns and rural places, but with some exceptions, there just are not typically as many opportunities for artists in smaller towns as there are in big cities. Most major cities have a high-level orchestra, often an opera and/or ballet company, great art museums, and are overall rich in culture for the classics and other types of music and art. It's not that small town folk don't appreciate the arts, it's just that the artistic opportunities are not quite as plentiful, rich and diverse as they tend to be in cities.

But on the flip-side, pianists living in smaller cities or towns have the great advantage of being able to be very "known" within their area. They can be the one great piano teacher in town, or the one person people would call for a pianist, or the town piano guru in general! It's not at all a bad thing to be living in a smaller city or in a town where everyone knows your name, so to speak.

So for me, I've relocated and am now living in the 'burbs of a great city. I'm trying to get established here and make some local connections, but it's slow work at first. Here's to new beginnings and to making the most of your art, no matter where you live!

Dreams, and Dreams

The other night, I had a dream (or was it a nightmare?) that I was giving a solo concert, and I had a choice of two pianos -- one with a wonderful sound and action, the other stiff and horrible sounding. Of course, I chose the good piano, but every time I went to play, it started rolling away from me across the stage. (This sounds comical now, but it was quite distressing in dream-form!). After trying again and again to play the good piano, only to have it roll away, I realized that I would have to play on the horrible piano.

...Which brings me to something that I have yet to discuss here, but is perhaps one of the most frustrating obstacles as a concert pianist: Having to deal with whatever piano you have in a performance, whether good or horrendous! Sometimes, you'll get lucky and have a piano that has great sound and action, but all too often, you'll end up with some piano that doesn't project well, has a stiff action, has uneven registration, etc. And the sad part is, the majority the audience won't know if the problem is YOU or the PIANO, and the'll assume it's you! This is where violinists and other instrumentalists have a great advangage. In fact, in my dream above, I should have considered myself lucky to have even had a choice between two pianos, since all too often, venues just have one, and you're stuck with it! I always just try to adjust as best as possile, and make the best music I can with what I have, although I definitely have little bits of anxiety expressed in dreams like the one above.

But much more important than dreams at night, there's the other kind of dreams -- the big-picture dreams that every individual has, whether you realize them or not. Mine? To inspire people of all ages and walks of life with the life-changing power and beauty of music, through concertizing, teaching, playing in worship services, and probably other ways that I haven't thought of yet! Both types of dreams seems foggy and unclear at times, and both can be filled with anxiety or doubt. But happily, the big-picture dreams can become reality, and this is what I'm working for every day. This is what I'm doing with my life, because classical music is what I love, what I'm gifted for, and one thing I can't imagine living without.

Competitions, part II: Don't Age Me, Bro!

This week, I'll celebrate my 29th birthday. Not old at all by typical standards, but as an aspiring concert pianist, every year older means "aging-out" of more competitions! Some competitions I may not quite be aged-out of yet, but for the quadrennial competitions such as the Van Cliburn, I'll be over the age limit by the time the next chance comes around.

There's something exciting about young talent that audiences really love. I'll never forget my first big, paid solo concert that I gave when I was in my mid-teens: the room was completley packed full of over 500 people, all wanting to see this young, talented pianist! Yet by the time I'm in my late 20s, I am no longer a teenager who can wear a big bow in her hair and wow the audience with my ability at a young age. However, I offer something so much more now. As I've gotten older, I have matured so much in my interpretations and musicality. I think about more than just playing the right notes...For instance, I think about the inner turmoil Beethoven must have experienced toward the end of his life with his deafness when I'm performing his late Sonatas; I focus on creating a beautiful, cushioned sound by the way I touch and approach the keys; I offer something that is not just technically fluid, but something that is heartfelt and (hopefully) memorable.

So 29, here I come, completely aware that I'm on the brink of getting too old for many competitions, but not givin' up at all!

Piano Competitions (and, My most Embarassing Moment!)

Ever tried playing in a piano competition while your dress is falling off?

Yes, that happened to me in 2005 at a piano competition in Steinway Hall in New York. As I performed, the zipper of my dress came loose and started opening slowly down my back. Luckily, this first round was closed to the public, but I was still in front of 5 judges. Rather than flash the judges, I chose to barely breathe and move as little as possible so that the zipper wouldn't slide all the way open. It was one of my worst performances, although I can definitely laugh about it now. Of course, one person told me that if I'd just let the dress fall down, maybe I would have won! Well, I know that I will never wear a strapless dress to perform in again.

That year (2005), I tried applying to as many piano competitions as I could to see what would happen. The huge downside is that it cost a lot of money, since each application fee is usually $60-100 and you typically have to pay for your own airfare and sometimes lodging if you get accepted. I did well that year and got some sort of prize or recognition in almost every competition that I did. But in the end, I had spent a lot of money and gained a few lines on my resume.

Was it worth it, doing as many competitions as I could that year? I would say yes. (although my bank account may disagree!). There was definite pressure, knowing that I was stepping out onto the stage only to be strictly judged by musicians who may or may not "like" my interpretations. The subjectivity of it all really bothered me at times. I was most frustrated at times when the winner was not necessarily the best (in my opinion), but had a connection to one or more of the judges.

The past few years, I'm applying to fewer competitions, but trying to pick and choose more wisely. Competitions can be wonderful or incredibly frustrating, but they always force me to do my best...well, as long as my dress isn't falling down