Post-Show Thoughts

Its’ been a bit since I posted. Part of that excuse is the busy schedule of a show, plus a full time job. But now that Seven Brides for Seven Brothers has closed, I have time to reflect.

Looking Back

It’s been a fairly crazy (for me) summer. I had an ill-fated trip to the Grand Canyon, a micro-vacation to Austin, and an eventful, extensive rehearsal process for a musical.

The last one was of course the biggest part of my schedule. Rehearsals 4 days per week left little time for anything else in the evenings. The show was a massive success, selling out more than half of our 10 performances. I’ll update the show page soon with pictures and more info.

Toward the end of the summer, I made it a goal to have one new artistic experience every week. Previous sights included trips to the Museum of Fine Arts Houston, Island ETC in Galveston, and my first show at The MATCH.

Of course I also inaugurated this blog. Now that the show has closed, I have time to stop and think and reevaluate.

Looking Forward

For the first time in nearly three years, I don’t have a show coming up. It’s still taking a time to settle in.

I’ve been music director and/or pianist for 12 shows since fall of 2015. In that time, I’ve gained a lot of knowledge and experience on how to work with singers, directors, musicians, and the challenges of a musical theatre score.

I still have a lot of room to grow, and I’m looking forward to trying that now that I have a little time to focus myself. I want to do more score study, more piano practice, and more observing of other musicians.

I’m back in piano lessons, and after a recent exciting day as an organ substitute, I’m thinking of getting back in to organ lessons as well. I also recently came into possession of an accordion, so that may be in my future too.

I’m looking at attending graduate school if I find a program that I like and that will let me in. Doing some campus visits this fall, and applying. I will know by March or April of next year.

In the meantime, I have a choir to direct and I’m seeing another show this week. I made recordings of my playing piano so I can do some self assessment. I just bought a new score. The Woodlands Chamber Music Project is going to pick up. I’m reading more and exploring more.

So look forward to seeing new posts here!

I'm Back! (To School)

It's been a bit since I posted on here. Frankly, I've been distracted and there haven't been many developments in most of my projects. 

What's happened this week?

• Professional development and classroom planning at the school. School starts tomorrow!
• Continued rehearsals and set building on Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, which opens August 31 (Click here for tickets)
• I had a piano lesson and spent time at the gym.
• I spent Friday in downtown Houston, having a really enjoyable conversation with a friend from college. In fact, there have been several really interesting conversations that I hope to reflect on here, when I can get my thoughts into writing.
• I saw The Mousetrap at The Alley Theatre in Houston. Fabulous play, exciting twist. If you get a chance, you should go see it, though my performance was virtually sold out.
• Some time to relax and to reflect today before school starts.

On that last note...

What's coming up this week?

• More rehearsals! Seven Brides for Seven Brothers is going into the final stages of the show, and it's time for things to come together. This week I hope to add microphones and see the sets come together.
• The first week of school! I'm excited to see the students come back and begin the new work this year.
• I'm going to see another show this week. I need to decide what to see. I want to write more about the shows that I see and reflect on the work I want to be doing with my life.
• More piano practice and time at the gym.

The year in advance

During this first week, I'm going to ask my students to reflect on two topics: what are they looking forward to this year and what are they the most worried about this year. In the spirit, I want to go through the same exercise for myself.

This year, I'm most excited for the chance to push the men's choir. We are instituting evening rehearsals for the first time this year, and that will give me a chance to really dig deep. This is also the first year I will have a group made up entirely of students that I taught. I'm interested to see how this will be different from previous years.

I'm also excited for the chance to expand my piano courses. Last year I offered a second year course in piano; this year that course will have its own class period. It will be more structured and hands on. I'm excited to see what happens.

I am most worried about my personal growth this year. On the one hand, I feel more confident in some things than I ever have. Especially where my teaching is concerned. On the other hand, the long talks that I have been having with friends and colleagues in recent months have left me doubtful of where I stand as a musician.

What I do know is that I need to be practicing piano a lot more, and watching TV a lot less. I'm still figuring out what my path will be, but those are both things I know.

Work helps ease my worry. So back to work it is!

Upcoming Project Hint

Here's a hint at the big project I have coming up this fall. I think I've got enough buy in from other interested parties that I can say it will involve all of these books plus some more.

Rachmaninoff Preludes and Etudes-Tableaux

In between practicing for my piano lesson today, I listened through the collection of Rachmaninoff Preludes and Etudes-Tableaux that was in the picture on my Instagram yesterday.

I found a recording on Spotify of Vladimir Ashkenazy playing all of Rachmaninoff's piano works, and I used that as the basis. The score was the Dover edition of the complete preludes and etudes-tableaux.

I've never spent much time on Rachmaninoff. Before today, my familiarity with his work was limited to the knowledge that he was a late romantic/early modern Russian virtuoso pianist and composer, and that he had large hands (as made fun of here, but seriously the story is that he could reach a 13th).

I had a passing familiarity with the Prelude in G minor (Op. 23, No. 5) because I believe I worked on it briefly in college.

Because of that, and because his second piano concerto is widely regarded as one of the most demanding pieces of piano literature, I had this idea that most everything was going to be big chords and bombast. I figured that dense chords would be all over the place.

I was not surprised, therefore, to see a stretch of physically unplayable chords (by any normal person anyway) at the end of the first prelude (Op. 23, No. 1 in F Sharp Minor)

Those left hand chords are virtually impossible to reach with a normal hand span.

I spent a few moments trying to sort out how one might play those so in order to get the majority of notes to sound, but also to maintain the feeling of single, blocked chords (my initial impulse would be to break up the chord, but that changes the feeling entirely).

Overall, I wasn't terribly impressed with the Op. 23 etudes though. They were virtuosic and challenging, but seemed somehow empty too. There wasn't a strong sense of artistic identity somehow.

Moving on to Op. 32, though, was markedly different. My favorite piece that I listened to the of the whole day was Op. 32, No. 3. I can't say why now, but I know I made a note to that effect when I was writing down spur of the moment notes. I went back to listen again, but it didn't strike me quite the same, though I did still enjoy it more than those around it.

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I listened to these in opus order, which means chronologically. I discovered after the fact that I missed the Prelude in C-sharp minor, which was written and published ahead of time:

• Ten Preludes, Op. 23 (1901-1903)
• Thirteen Preludes, Op. 32 (1910)
• Eight Etudes-Tableaux, Op. 33 (1911)
• Nine Etudes-Tabluex, Op. 39 (1916-1917)

There is definitely a growing sense of command of the piano as the pieces progress. Notwithstanding the increased complexity of the Etudes-Tableaux compared to the Preludes, they simply feel more natural somehow.

I didn't dig into the analysis of these pieces enough to add anything lengthy here, but here's some trivia about the Etudes-Tableaux: The original set of 8 contained 9, but the work in A minor was removed. It was later rewritten and added into the second set.

The use of the word "tableaux" implies that there are not only technical challenges, but images inspiring these works. Rachmaninoff did not put titles at the beginnings of the pieces, but when Ottorino Respighi orchestrated them, Rachmaninoff gave him some guidance, so the orchestrated versions do have titles.

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I'll conclude this post with a few random thoughts.

First, on the performance. Rubato is technique that involves slight variations in tempo for expressive purposes. It's less employed now than it would have been during Rachmaninoff's day, but there's plenty to be found in these performances. Many of the tempo swings are practical in nature, allowing the pianist to get from one end of the keyboard to another, or for a large chord to diminish enough for the rapid moving notes after it to be heard.

But sometimes I get annoyed by the fact that this distorts the sense of meter in the piece. In rhapsodic pieces such a these, it's not so important, but it's a pet peeve of mine.

Finally, and in a very weird twist, there's a moment right at the end of Etude-Tableau Op. 33 No. 5 that must have inspired a melody in "Pink Elephants on Parade" from "Dumbo"

From Etude-Tableaux Op. 33, No. 5. Both hands are in bass clef.

Try playing the upper staff of this and see if you don't immediately sing "What'll I do?/What'll I do?/What an unusual view"!

Overall I'm glad I listened to these and I really enjoyed the experience. I highly recommend them.

Artistic Standards

Tonight I went to the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. My original plan was to write about the experience of their exhibit Big Bambú: This Thing Called Life. After all, that was my original reason for going down there. But take a look at my Instagram for that. It was a very cool experience, but it's not what stuck with me as a topic for this post.

Instead, I found something in a nearby gallery that caught my eye. Really I could have written about just about any work, but what got me thinking is something in the Art of the Islamic Worlds gallery. It was the painting "Dancing Girl" by Muhammad Baquir.

Click on the image to go to the MFAH collection info.

Detail Matters

Next to the painting was a lengthy wall plaque describing the restoration process. Apparently the original painting was sealed with a substance that yellowed with age. A modern removal of the coating, and replacement with a modern coating allowed it to be viewed in its vibrant glory.

The plaque made a particular point of the detail. In particular, the pearls along the girl's waistband (which are not particularly visible in this photo) were painted with "a single flick of the wrist" and a slight shading of grey for dimension.

The precision and detail needed to pull off the hundreds of pearls is really staggering. Even up close, they are virtually identical and perfectly in line. This really incredible craftsmanship got me thinking about my work and the precision and detail that's needed.

Detail in the Performing Arts

There's an argument to be made that there's only so much precision you can have as a performing artist. When the goal is to create and recreate a work every time, the variations are part of the charm. No performance is perfect, and even "perfect" recordings are usually patched together from the best parts of a few takes.

But that has never been the realm in which I operate. For years now, my work has been subpar even for someone expecting the occasional flaw. I know for sure that one of my weaknesses are a performer is a lack of attention to detail and consistency. I play more wrong notes than a competent accompanist should because frankly I don't practice enough.

That's been a challenge as I've been working with my new piano teacher. It takes time and study to develop not just accuracy, but an artistic approach to a piece. In the summer I have plenty of time to do that, and when I'm working on just a few pieces for a long time, that's the goal.

But when I have to put together a show (200+ pages of music) in ten weeks, the simple fact is that I can't work every detail to the kind of precision that would be artistically ideal. And written accompaniments can be weak or downright unplayable, as any accompanist will attest to. 

Realizing Piano Accompaniments

So how do I deal with that? It's one thing when I'm playing Chopin, but playing a Sondheim piano reduction is another matter. What kind of detail should I be expected to realize from that? In Beethoven I can shape little miniature phrases, in Bach I can bring out individual melodies. But how much of that is important in the realm of playing a reduction for rehearsal?

I think most pianists I could interview would say "The more of that you can play, the better. An artistic accompanist is always better than a merely accurate one." So does that mean that as long as I'm a part-time accompanist, my piano skills are never going to be as good? How can I possibly catch up as long as I'm earning a living doing other things?

Where to start?

Those last questions are big ones. And honestly, I suspect the answer to the first is "Yes" and to the second is "I can't." But if I was going to make any progress at all, I need some kind of guidance. How do you grow as a collaborative pianist when you don't have many opportunities to collaborate because you're not a particularly good collaborator in the first place, and don't have the leisure to take on other commitments?

In the meantime, I think the best things I can do for myself are to continue to improve my piano skills overall, and to raise my personal standards for accuracy and artistry as a musician. "Accurate" and "competent" can no longer cut it. I have to find better adjectives.

The Search for Meaning

I've finally reached the point in the summer where I feel like I've totally unwound from school and my summer plans, so I'm looking ahead to what I want to do going forward.

Among the many things on my mind today is the idea of continuing to learn piano repertoire. As I've been learning solo music for my collegiate auditions, I have also become more interested in the breadth of standard piano repertoire that I never explored.

When I say "standard" I mostly mean the small-to-medium length Romantic works by composers like Chopin, Brahms, and Liszt. When I was in college, I wouldn't give them the time of day, and in fact, until fairly recently I remained uninterested. But since digging into a Chopin nocturne, I have come to understand how he is creating his effects, and I'm more receptive to them as a result.

Today, I have the day mostly off, other than a recital this evening, so I have spent much of today listening and playing through piano repertoire. For example, this morning I listened through about half of the collection "The Library of Modern Piano Music" with mixed results. Most notably: I have no interest in playing anything by Ludovico Einaudi, a rather trendy new-age style composer.

In the afternoon, I listened through a few works by Tobias Picker, and I have been playing through my books of Christmas arrangements. As I go, I make notes on whether I am interested in learning, preparing, or perfecting the piece, or whether it holds no interest at this time.

Now that I have seen how my taste evolves, I'm not writing anything off totally, but I'm trying to find some direction for myself as the fall approaches.

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Before I pick up anything new, though, I have a concert tonight! I'm performing with The Woodlands Chamber Music Project, a group I helped found along with my friend John Paddie. I'm playing a piece by Kevin Olson, and a movement from Francis Poulenc's sonata for Flute and Piano. I hope to be able to do more collaborative work in the future.