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.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
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!
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!
Saturday, July 24, 2010
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.
...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.
Monday, July 5, 2010
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!
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!
Monday, April 5, 2010
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
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
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
My Revelation
Lately, I've been struggling a little with the question, "What's next?" This is a problem for many artists, since most of our livings are not predictable in a 9-to-5, annual-salary sort of way! Yesterday, I had a revelation in which I think I figured some things out.
Last post, I talked about the multi-faceted artist; for instance, I am a performer, teacher, and church organist. But through all this, I've been ignoring one of my biggest passions: composing music. I've been composing music from the time I was three and almost majored in composition rather than performance in college. I had a natural knack for composition and even premiered one of my pieces for the US Poet Laureate. But in my early 20s, I decided to focus solely on performance, thinking that I needed to put composition aside for awhile in order to excel in performance.
Years later, I've had a slap-me-in-the-face realization: I want to and can be a pianist-composer, and use each to the advantage of the other. I'd love to perform concerts with traditional classical greats and then include some of my own music as well. Think about it for a minute. In the 18th and 19th centuries, many musicians were expected to compose as well as perform (and also were often expected to improvise). Now, the vast majority of musicians focus on either performing or composing.
One question many artist try to answer is, "What makes you different?", or "What sets you apart from the thousands of other artists?" Well for me, no one else will be C.B. Johnson, concert pianist and composer, performing the classics in addition to her own compositions. Now I just have to compose some really great music. Here goes.
Last post, I talked about the multi-faceted artist; for instance, I am a performer, teacher, and church organist. But through all this, I've been ignoring one of my biggest passions: composing music. I've been composing music from the time I was three and almost majored in composition rather than performance in college. I had a natural knack for composition and even premiered one of my pieces for the US Poet Laureate. But in my early 20s, I decided to focus solely on performance, thinking that I needed to put composition aside for awhile in order to excel in performance.
Years later, I've had a slap-me-in-the-face realization: I want to and can be a pianist-composer, and use each to the advantage of the other. I'd love to perform concerts with traditional classical greats and then include some of my own music as well. Think about it for a minute. In the 18th and 19th centuries, many musicians were expected to compose as well as perform (and also were often expected to improvise). Now, the vast majority of musicians focus on either performing or composing.
One question many artist try to answer is, "What makes you different?", or "What sets you apart from the thousands of other artists?" Well for me, no one else will be C.B. Johnson, concert pianist and composer, performing the classics in addition to her own compositions. Now I just have to compose some really great music. Here goes.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Making a Living
Four years ago when I was at the Van Cliburn Piano Institute (and thrilled to be amongst 25 very gifted pianists), I remember being a little shocked when an esteemed pianist/professor looked at the group of us and bluntly said, "I do not expect that more than 1 or 2 of you will make a living on performing alone. Teaching, yes. But not performance."
We all looked taken aback, perhaps because we had unrealistic expectations. We had all been deemed gifted at a young age, won numerous competitions and awards throughout the years, performed with orchestras...I mean, we were all going to make it, right?!
But looking back, that professor was right. No matter how gifted a pianist may be, it's hard to support oneself as a performing artist alone. Some do it, but not many. The truth is that there are other ways to make a living -- like teaching, accompanying, arranging, etc. But the good news and the thing I'm realizing more and more is that you don't have to pick just one! For instance, I am a concert pianist, piano teacher, and church organist.
The most difficult thing is balance. I've started teaching Monday through Friday and playing the organ on Wednesday evenings and Sundays, and it makes it more difficult to have time to practice and get/play concerts. So while I am making a better living with teaching the past couple of years, I don't have the time or flexibility to do as many performances or competitions. If I miss a week of lessons, I miss a week of pay (or I have to make-up a week of lessons, which is probably worse!). But performance just can't take a back-seat if that's still what I'm about.
We all looked taken aback, perhaps because we had unrealistic expectations. We had all been deemed gifted at a young age, won numerous competitions and awards throughout the years, performed with orchestras...I mean, we were all going to make it, right?!
But looking back, that professor was right. No matter how gifted a pianist may be, it's hard to support oneself as a performing artist alone. Some do it, but not many. The truth is that there are other ways to make a living -- like teaching, accompanying, arranging, etc. But the good news and the thing I'm realizing more and more is that you don't have to pick just one! For instance, I am a concert pianist, piano teacher, and church organist.
The most difficult thing is balance. I've started teaching Monday through Friday and playing the organ on Wednesday evenings and Sundays, and it makes it more difficult to have time to practice and get/play concerts. So while I am making a better living with teaching the past couple of years, I don't have the time or flexibility to do as many performances or competitions. If I miss a week of lessons, I miss a week of pay (or I have to make-up a week of lessons, which is probably worse!). But performance just can't take a back-seat if that's still what I'm about.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Marketing....myself
Happy New Year!
I'm very excited about 2010. I'm hoping that I will get more performance opportunities this year and get to keep doing what I love. It's a tough business, but somehow I feel that I have to keep trying. 2008 was pretty much shot, since I was sick with mono for about the whole year, and 2009 was slow after having to basically take the year off in 2008! Luckily, so far this year, I have concerts set up in February, March, and April, and hopefully more opportunities will arise.
Because of the tough past couple of years, 2010 means new goals and new strategies for me. I'm looking at this as an opportunity to try out some better marketing strategies in an attempt to better "sell" myself (as strange as that may sound).
I've realized through the help of my friend and Yamaha Artist Jade Simmons, that marketing oneself is key to getting more performance opportunities. (For any young artist out there, I'd recommend Jade's "Emerge Already" videos, which can be seen on Youtube).
What makes me different, and why should a concert series pay me to come play, rather than the hundreds of other pianists? I've answered these questions, and I've started making some better publicity material to send out to concert series. I'm hopeful that this year will be a great one!
I'm very excited about 2010. I'm hoping that I will get more performance opportunities this year and get to keep doing what I love. It's a tough business, but somehow I feel that I have to keep trying. 2008 was pretty much shot, since I was sick with mono for about the whole year, and 2009 was slow after having to basically take the year off in 2008! Luckily, so far this year, I have concerts set up in February, March, and April, and hopefully more opportunities will arise.
Because of the tough past couple of years, 2010 means new goals and new strategies for me. I'm looking at this as an opportunity to try out some better marketing strategies in an attempt to better "sell" myself (as strange as that may sound).
I've realized through the help of my friend and Yamaha Artist Jade Simmons, that marketing oneself is key to getting more performance opportunities. (For any young artist out there, I'd recommend Jade's "Emerge Already" videos, which can be seen on Youtube).
What makes me different, and why should a concert series pay me to come play, rather than the hundreds of other pianists? I've answered these questions, and I've started making some better publicity material to send out to concert series. I'm hopeful that this year will be a great one!
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