Posted on by mgminer · 6 Comments

Emotional Experience at Rachmaninoff Festival

I know from the get-go that I won’t be able to adequately describe the experience I had on Saturday evening. My sisters, my niece, and I gathered to attend the Rachmaninoff Festival at the The Music Center at Strathmore in Bethesda, MD. I knew it was going to be an evening of huge emotion since all the music would be by Sergei Rachmaninoff, but I couldn’t have imagined the experience I was about to have. Three major works were performed by three different pianists with a relatively new symphony orchestra–The National Philharmonic. First, “Variations on a Theme of Paganini,” followed by the 2nd and 3rd Piano Concertos. All are much loved, enormous pieces of music, but again something fresh and new happened. An unexpected delight.

It was during the opening bars of the 2nd Piano Concerto that I knew I was about to hear something special. Each chord followed by a single low-bass note was alive and grew organically through those first few measures driving me deep into the sound. The pianist was previously unknown to me, but since Saturday, I have listened to many of his recordings. His name is Inon Barnatan. He was so skilled not only technically (Rachmaninoff is HARD to play!), but artistically so nuanced. For some musicians, performance becomes a showcase of ability, but his performance was so much more than ability–it felt more like a love-letter, a poem, or a familiar story.

The magic happened in the 2nd movement. Whenever the piano was paired with a single instrument such as the flute, oboe, or violin, Mr. Barnatan made eye contact with that member of the orchestra. He held that connection while we were privileged to listen as he played (without looking at the keys!) in conversation with the other musician. I’ve never witnessed anything so intimate, so beautiful, and so memorable as the feeling of oneness created through this performance. I imagined that the woman playing the flute especially had “a moment” perhaps unlike any other–the kind of moment which musicians and artists dream of creating. I know I had “a moment” which felt whole and pure, even spiritual, as tears freely rolled down my cheeks.

Posted on by mgminer · 5 Comments

A Lesson from Chopin

On Saturday evening, I attended an all-Chopin recital at George Mason University performed by Brian Ganz. Mr. Ganz has set a lifetime goal of performing every work composed by Chopin. He considers Chopin to be one of the great storytellers in music and gave background and commentary on the pieces he played. It was an amazing evening. Afterward, I wondered how his arms didn’t fall off with how technically difficult the program was. Ganz called Chopin the “Romantic Revolutionary.” Much of the program was familiar to me and I enjoyed the fresh interpretation of those pieces. New to me, were the Mazurkas which have their roots in the folk music of Eastern Europe. I didn’t know that Chopin wrote more Mazurkas that any other form (He wrote 60 of them!) I especially loved the Ballade No. 1 which you can listen to here and learned that it was also Chopin’s favorite of the pieces he composed.

Chopin left his beloved Poland as a young man and was, unfortunately, never able to return. He felt deep sadness, longing, and yearning for his homeland. His music reflects the love he had for his country, both in patriotic ways and in culturally responsive ways. The pain and grief he felt was transformed into his artistic expression. He was able to create beauty from his broken heart. I loved Chopin before, but after this program, I love him even more.

Mr. Ganz made a comment that has stuck with me. I am paraphrasing, but he said something to the effect that Chopin got it right when he chose music, his art, rather than violence to express his hurt and sadness. His beloved Poland was at war with Russia and there was much unrest throughout Europe. He channeled these feelings into creating some of the most beautiful music ever written.

I worry about the problem of guns, unrest, and division in our country and wonder if we could take a lesson from Chopin and instead of violence, choose beauty. I have to hope we can.

Thank you to all who make this writing space
a place of safety, support, and beauty.

Posted on by mgminer · 5 Comments

Why I Continue

On my way home from my piano lesson today, I felt so happy, encouraged, and grateful. You see, last spring I asked a friend who is involved in local music educators activities if she might know a teacher who accepts adult students. She answered quickly, “I know the perfect teacher for you.” She took the time to help me connect with this teacher who has become such a bright light in my life. It was love at first lesson and at every lesson since.

I smiled as I thought of the many times I get asked why I still “need” to take piano lessons. The assumption is that I don’t need any help. After all, I started my piano journey nearly 59 years ago. I know how to read the notes–the dots and lines on the page hold meaning for me. I’ve learned quite a bit of piano literature. I have experience accompanying soloists and choirs. So, why would I want lessons?

I’m going to try to articulate a few reasons why:

  1. I believe in the magic that can happen when a student-teacher match is right. My current match with this teacher is definitely magic.
  2. I know the technique that I still need to learn and master to be able to play the music I want to play. In other words, I know what is still hard for me.
  3. At my first lesson, I learned one small thing about rotating my forearm that opened a new world to me when it comes to trills. (Think about how understanding a vocabulary word opens a whole text to the reader.)
  4. A teacher can introduce me to music I may never have found on my own. Already, I’m in love with literature that I had never heard before. (Just like matching books with readers, my teacher matches music to me.)
  5. Read here about the effort-driven rewards cycle. Working with our hands helps the brain.
  6. I know that practicing the piano puts me in a state of FLOW. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi wrote about this in his book, FINDING FLOW.

In other words, playing piano is my happy place.

Thank you to all who make this writing space
a place of safety, support, and beauty.