The Potential of Poise, from the Outside-In

Last week I played with the ballet.  For those who know me, it is no secret that I love dance.  I even took some beginner ballet classes last year so that I could experience it first-hand.  I had a wonderful teacher here in Philadelphia who somehow managed to weave dance history, theory and philosophy in with the physical movements that he taught us, and it was enlightening!

The very first thing that I learned in ballet class was correct stance – the neutral posture from which your body moves and where your body returns.  Everything is specified – down to the arrangement of the fingers, the expression on the face, and even the direction of the gaze of the eyes.  When these details have been tended to, what you get is the embodiment of poise.

One of the things I find most impressive about great ballet dancers is that, no matter what they are feeling – and they can feel a lot of very unpleasant things – they always exude a sense of balance, grace and ease.  It takes a lot of discipline to put that face on when you’re not particularly feeling like dancing, or if your energy is sapped, or if you are even in pain.

I often approach horn playing and any of life’s endeavors from the inside-out, and this is generally a good thing, I think.  As the fox in The Little Prince says, “What is essential is invisible to the eye.”  So the inside is always the most important in my view.   However, what I’ve found is that it can be extremely helpful to approach whatever endeavor is at hand (for our purposes at the moment – horn playing) from both directions – the outside-in as well as the inside-out.

For example, there are times when the practice room or the stage is the last place you want to be.  This is just life. Things can get us physically and/or emotionally and it’s hard to get out the horn and gear up to get some work done.  This is when an outside-in approach and poise comes in very handy.  You pull your shoulders back, un-wrinkle your forehead, take a deep breath, and “just do it.” And sometimes it can happen that your inner thoughts and emotions react to the expression you have put on your face, how you sit, and how your eyes are focused.  They can “perk up” or “calm down”  – or whatever is needed at the moment.

The idea that what happens in the body has an effect on the emotions and mental state is an integral part of certain approaches to yoga and one of the things I love most about it.  For example, what happens when you place yourself in a particular yoga pose is that you are “putting on” outwardly the qualities that can stand to be exercised and warmed-up on the inside.  So for instance, when I am in warrior pose, legs strong and rooted, chest open, radiating out from my center through my arms and legs, soft but focused gaze – these physical actions can nudge my mind and emotions towards the corresponding inner qualities. In the case of warrior pose, these might be grounded-ness, an open heart, energy, and strong intention.

Though yoga can provide an opportunity to physically practice qualities that are desired on the inside, you don’t have to be a yogi, or even remotely interested in yoga, to experience the benefits of this outside-in way of thinking.  You can experiment with this right away by simply sitting up straight, or smiling, or pulling your shoulders back, or relaxing the focus of your eyes so that you are aware of the entire room in your periphery.  Can you feel how the rest of your body and your inner state can respond to these little changes?

These are great skills to have in your bag of tricks when you don’t feel spectacular, but need to get some work done anyway.

Outside-in can also be really helpful in learning a new skill, as long as it’s balanced by inside-out.  It is similar to acting, or taking a “fake-it-till-you-make-it” approach.  It’s very interesting to test limits by  “trying something on” for a while even if it feels foreign.  For instance, let’s say you’ve done the technical work necessary on a certain passage, but still haven’t developed confidence in it.  One way to approach this would be to contemplate what it might look and feel like to be confident about it.  Imagine it, put it on, and give it a whirl.  You might surprise yourself.  From there, you work on incorporating that attitude into your playing every time you approach that passage so that the new skill of confidence works its way into you and becomes something you can count on.

I don’t mean to advocate being disingenuous – I believe it is totally fine to feel how you feel and to be genuine about it.  There are times, however, when, in order to get out of a rut or to get to the next level, or to just plain get through a performance, it is helpful to contemplate something outside ourselves in order to free ourselves up.  It is all too easy to get caught up in inner dramas. This is a way to “just do it!”

Even more important than poise is what poise develops into over a longer period of time and with larger obstacles – resilience!  Resilience also includes the ability to improvise, to think calmly when all around you seems to be crumbling, and to generally ride the waves of life and not get pulled under.

My husband and I were talking recently about our fast-moving, fast-changing world.  One thing he says is that success in our quickly-changing world is going to be determined by how calmly and clearly one can think under stress and upheaval.

When things change, stress naturally follows because we human beings do NOT like it.  We prefer stability and certainty – and why not!?  This is when we feel most at ease and comfortable – this is when we feel we can enjoy life.  But if we can get in the habit of thinking clearly and staying poised when bobbles big and small are going on around us, we have a chance.  This ability to not allow ourselves to get caught in downward-spirals (from within or without!) or to whipped into a frenzy about things gives us a chance to breathe, see alternatives, and think in a different way.

I must add that I don’t think it is easy to do this alone.  It is always helpful to have others around us who aid in resisting the pull of the  downward spirals. Good friends, family and community are so important.  This is where we find support, get ideas, bounce new ways of thinking off of each other, and find ways to help each other through hard times.

So, can I say it?  Give poise a chance!

Resources:

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Donna Farhi, Yoga Mind, Body, and Spirit

Posted in Habits, Philosophy, Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Seeing and Vision: A Closer Look

Throughout our lifetime, if we are fortunate, we come across a few rare souls who, when we are with them, we are brought right into this present moment.  They allow us to experience life in a deeper way than we might have otherwise.  When we are with these people, there is a feeling of wholeness and of possibility.

What is this?

I’ll come back to them later, but in the meantime, take a moment to bring up in your mind a couple of your favorite musicians, artists, performers, or actors – those you love listening to, those you admire and who inspire you.   There are as many different kinds of personalities among these professions as there are in the general population, but I would venture to say that some of the greatest of them share a couple of qualities.  Today I will call these qualities Seeing and Vision.

To me, these words having to do with our sense of sight point to ways of thinking about the way we experience and live our lives.

Seeing is our awareness of what is – the depth with which we experience this moment.  Vision (in my definition today) has to do with the images that we hold in our mind and that flow through us.  They shape how we string our moments together.

By seeing, I mean a quality of experiencing the current moment without labeling it, assessing it, or judging it.  This experience is summed up by the title of a much-revisited book on my bookshelf by Jon Kabat-Zinn called Wherever You Go, There You Are. I love that title!  And it is a wonderful book full of ideas for incorporating being here in daily life.  To me it feels like a “sinking in” or “awakening” to the senses.  As musicians, our “seeing” is settling our attention primarily what we hear, but also what we feel in our bodies.

So as a horn player, when I sit down to warm up and practice each morning, my first order of business is to cut through my “brain noise” – all those thoughts and distractions and worries ricocheting around in there – shed some of the layers of my ego (what I think I always sound/feel like) and self-consciousness (what I fear I might sound/feel like!) and focus on what I DO sound and feel like.   My job is to say hello to the here and now.

One part of learning how to do this is to know when to get rid of our should’s.

Here is one example: as horn players, we are often very concerned with our breath and the process of breathing.  We want to do it correctly, efficiently – we want to get the most bang for our buck.   One of my very favorite yoga teachers and writers is Donna Farhi.  She has a book all about breathing called The Breathing Book. (Go figure!)  In one passage, she explains one way of freeing yourself up to move towards the most natural and efficient way of doing something – in this case, breathing:

You might be asking, “What should I feel?” Instead ask yourself what it is that you do feel, and you will be on the right path.  Trust that if you let go of your preconceived ideas and expectations the vitality of the breath will emerge naturally.

I remember a lesson I had with Julie Landsman.  I was particularly frustrated at the time, and my mind had been hopping all over the place. I was paralyzed by all of my “should”s.  I was in a major battle with myself and I wanted to know concretely what to focus on.  A checklist, please!  So I asked her what she focused on when she picked up her horn in the morning.  She said something to the effect of, “I am just hearing and feeling.”

Just hearing and feeling!

Another quality that the great souls of the world contain within themselves, I believe, is the ability, while holding this present moment, to ALSO hold an “image” of the potential that is inherent in this moment and the moments to follow.  It is something I call vision, although the word vision only scratches the surface.  It is something that employs our imagination, and is guided by our deepest beliefs and by what is most important to us.  It is akin to beholding something of great power and beauty and letting that image work in us and live itself out through us.

When you think about the great artists of the world, the masterpieces that they produce aren’t great because they show us reality (that takes skill, but it is only skill), but because they show us their vision of what lies beneath or beyond reality in their view. They show us something unseen that we might otherwise have not seen.  So in a portrait by Rembrandt, we see not only the image of a person, but we may see something about that person’s nature, their dreams, their sense of humor, or the things that haunt them or fragment them.  In a non-realist portrait, one by Picasso for instance, we experience the same thing, only with the use of a different “language.”  Maybe we see shadow and light, or duality, or complexity, or brightness, or joyfulness, or energy!

In other words, what we can experience when we contemplate a great work of art is the artist’s unique perspective and a deeper perception or – vision.

What does this mean for a mere horn player?  What forms our vision?  For starters: our values.  What are the musical values you most treasure?  Quality of sound?  The way one note moves to the next?  Trueness of phrasing?  Solidity?  Facility?  Consistency?  All of the qualities you treasure and admire in others will form your vision for yourself.  This is one reason it is so important as a young musician to be extraordinarily attentive, to go to concerts, listen to recordings, and experience music as much as possible.  It is forming and informing Vision.

So in the practice room, our job is to see what is and hold it up to the reflection of our Vision.  There’s nothing more satisfying than bringing the two ever more closely together, holding them there in your consciousness at the same time, letting your Vision live and breathe its way into you.

But it always starts daily, over and over again, with this moment.  It is a constant renewal of commitment to seeing what is with no judgment attached – just noticing.  It is a very gentle, but constant thing.  Then as Seeing and Vision reflect back and forth to each other over time and live and grow together for a while, we can even have the feeling of being taken by surprise by the beautiful things that arise and bloom in their own good time.  I was recently reading the blog of Linda Grace (www.rolfinggrace.com), a fantastic Rolfer here in Philadelphia – she is insightful and full of ideas!  She quoted T.S. Eliot’s “Burnt Norton” in her most recent post:

And the bird called, in response to

The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,

And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses

Had the look of flowers that are looked at.

Just as we feel nurtured and whole and full of possibility in the presence of certain people who, with their vibrant, aware, and gentle presence enable us to feel the fullness of our own lives – we can do the same for ourselves and for others around us on a daily basis just by being here and reflecting our Vision both in and out of the practice room.  So give it a try!  See if you can “sink in” and give of your attention and presence.  The important people in your life, qualities you are nurturing, and your horn playing might just might end up having the look of flowers that are looked at.  Listen for the unheard music in your life.  See what arises!

Resources:

Jon Kabat-Zinn, Wherever You Go, There You Are: Mindfulness Meditation in Everyday Life

Donna Farhi, The Breathing Book: Good Health and Vitality Through Essential Breathwork

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Good news: Mark in the press!

Here’s a tidbit of fun news for you on a rainy and SNOWY (earlier today anyway!) April Fool’s Day.  Mark Kennedy made the paper in Altoona last week during the PMEA festival held there.  Congrats, Mark!  Here’s the article:
Striking up the band: Infrequent but memorable “musical moments” thrill area students

March 26, 2011 – By Amanda Clegg, Altoona Mirror

Region III Band Festival member Mark Kennedy said he enjoys what he calls “musical moments.”
The moments occur infrequently, happening only when everyone is focused on one particular part of the music and then something “clicks,” he said Friday.
“You get goose bumps,” he said. “It’s like the best thing.”
The State College Area High School senior, who has played the French horn for six years, has participated in the Pennsylvania Music Educators Association’s annual regional band festival for three years.
This year’s festival kicked off Wednesday at Altoona Area High School with 182 regional band students from 48 school districts participating.
This year’s guest director is William Stowman, the music department chairman at Messiah College in Grantham.
The Region III band will perform a concert at 11 a.m. today at the high school.
Some of the band members will go on to the PMEA All-State Festival scheduled for April 14-16 in Hershey and Lancaster. Regional jazz, vocal jazz, chorus, wind ensemble and orchestra groups also perform in the all-state festival.
Kennedy, who also participated in PMEA choir and plans to major in French horn performance and German in college, said he enjoys meeting kids from other school districts during the festivals.
Emily Brumbaugh, 15, an Altoona sophomore who has played the saxophone since fourth grade, said she plans to major in music after high school.
“I love the feeling you get when you’re on stage and the music is flowing, no matter what kind it is,” Brumbaugh said.
Emily Brumbaugh, 15, an Altoona sophomore who has played the saxophone since fourth grade, said she plans to major in music after high school.
The festivals offer students the opportunity to learn from a college professor and with their musical peers, Altoona Area High School Music Director Larry Detwiler said.
When considering the educational crisis brought to light with Gov. Tom Corbett’s proposed 2011-12 state budget, Detwiler said like everyone else, people in the arts are concerned. They are also optimistic, he said.
“We know how valuable the arts are to our students and our communities,” he said.
Hopefully, school administrators feel likewise, he said.
Music is a “form of self expression” with its own language, and “just that basic part of your life that completes a person,” he said.
Brumbaugh, who participated in the festival open to sophomores, juniors and seniors for the first time this year, is learning how to compete and deal with not always coming out on top, how to “work harder” and “as a team,” she said.
She may also experience some of those “musical moments” along the way, as well.
“Musical education to me means more than getting to play the instrument,” she said. “It’s the emotion and feeling you put into it.”
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Ripening Like the Tree

Nearly every major religion or thought system in the world has a period of time dedicated to lean times, fasting, contemplation of suffering, and transitions from life to death (or from death to life).  There is the Christian season of Lent (which we are in right now), the Muslim month of Ramadan, the O-higan time period around the equinoxes in Japanese Buddhism, etc.  That this season for reflecting on the more difficult things of life exists across religions and cultures emphasizes that these non-rosy times of life are very much a part our shared human existence and deserve our respect and contemplation.

As of Monday, yet another orchestra (this time, Syracuse) will be permanently out of work.  Here in Philadelphia the future of the orchestra is being ironed out in negotiations and board meetings.  And of course, around the world right now, there is real mortal fear, unrest, and suffering in the wake of disasters and upheavals.

What do we do when the storms of life sweep through with so much power?  What do we do when societal changes are seemingly moving towards rendering our professions obsolete?  What do we do when our futures and livelihoods are at stake? And most importantly, how do we begin to see a new (or renewed) path before us?

The first response to disaster in our society is often “the moment of silence” which I happen to find particularly beautiful.  It allows us, in the immediate wake of the most difficult things that happen to us, to stand still – physically, emotionally and spiritually – in solidarity with those who have suffered and are suffering.  In our own lives, on a day-to-day basis, it can be equally powerful.  One of my very favorite writers is Rainer Maria Rilke.  There is a collection of his writings called “Letters to a Young Poet.”  This book is exactly what it sounds like – a collection of Rilke’s correspondences with a young poet! In it he writes:

“Being an artist [substitute “living a full life” if you like] means, not reckoning and counting, but ripening like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confident in the storms of spring without the fear that after them may come no summer.  It does come.  But it comes only to the patient, who are there as though eternity lay before them, so unconcernedly still and wide.”

Patience.  Stillness.  Awareness.  A desire to fully understand the situation.  Knowing that how we interpret the situation is not objective.  Acknowledging the complicated nature of a problem – rather than resorting to black and white interpretations or to blaming. Taking a long view of our lives.  Listening closely and being guided by that which is most important to us at our core.  Not allowing ourselves to become bitter or hardened. Trusting in our ability to live a fulfilling and vibrant life.  These are all things to keep in our consciousness as we work through difficulty.

But I repeatedly find myself returning to Rilke’s simple and powerful image of the tree.  Out of the patience and quietness of being still and wide, space is made for wisdom, for being circumspect, for comfort.  And, I believe, out of this silence and stillness also comes the vision for the way forward.  If things must be different in our future (and change is inevitable, even if it doesn’t happen right away), what is the vision we have for the way things could be?  What is possible?  What can we imagine?

I believe it is possible to maintain our integrity and identity while responding to life’s winds with a little give, recognizing that the blowing off of our branches does not mean the end of our life.  Perhaps that it even means growing in a new and unexpected way. And if we get blown completely over and uprooted, the hope is that we can find a way to salvage the wood and create something of beauty.

I was in a seaside park once, and all the trees were at a diagonal.  It was an odd sight!  But it struck home to me that their survival in that particular location depended upon their ability to bend and be blown diagonally by those sea winds – to have a little give.  So, as human beings with a strong sense of will and a desire to control, the trick is to discern whether it is time to stand rigidly upright and risk breaking, or to allow ourselves to bend and be pruned, and to allow a renewed vision of the future to form in us.

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On Pins and Needles – and Banana Bread

This is a time of year that is full of potential.  Winter seems to be over, mostly, and spring has started to show hints of what lies ahead in the little buds on the trees, but it’s still raw outside.  We know that the blooms are coming and we know we will have warmer weather, but we just can’t feel it yet – on most days.  For many students of music, this is also a time of feeling the potential of what lies ahead but not knowing exactly HOW everything will unfold.  They are done with their auditions and waiting to hear back from their school of choice, or summer festival of choice, or waiting to get the details of aid packages.

For those of us who are past our official student days, there are plenty of other big things yet to happen that can cause us real stress and worry.  We would rather know NOW how things are going to happen.

Dealing with the unknown has never been my strong suit, but it is a big part of our existence as human beings.  What do we do with this little period of time when everything is up in the air? When we have done what we can and the results are out of our control?  When we are waiting with bated breath to see how things are going to turn out?

My husband says:  Bake banana bread.  And I tend to agree!  That is how we often deal with it, actually – taking time for the little enjoyable things of life.  We are making banana bread as I write this. (Full disclosure: HE is making banana bread as I write this).

But seriously, I think that one of the greatest comforts in life is the knowledge that you gave your best efforts during the time when there WAS something you could do to influence the outcome of your goals.  That being said, there’s always something to learn from the process, and it’s a good idea to take stock of everything you did (in a kind way, of course!) so that you can use that information in the future.

Also, the recognition and determination that you are going to be fine no matter what can go a long way toward easing worries.  Life really is far more about what we bring to our situations than the situations themselves.  And sometimes when we don’t get something we want, it can turn into another opportunity that we never would have imagined possible otherwise.  The key is to stay open and unhardened – always with a vision of what could be.

When it comes down to it, during these times of suspension and limbo, we have no choice but to make of it a huge exercise in trust.  Trust in yourself and your ability to always move forward – and develop a trust in the bigger shape of your life, and in the possibilities of the things that are not yet seen.

And banana bread REALLY helps.

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Versatility, Exploration, and Expression: A Conversation with Chris Komer

How many professional horn players do you know who have a piano album out?  I know one.  As I listened to Chris Komer’s piano improvisations the other day, I noticed several things about these short-but-sweet moments captured in time.  I could hear the expansiveness of Kansas and Montana.  I could hear crisp jazz riffs of the city.  I heard a sense of flow and of exploration and adventure that still managed to be gentle, easy, and cohesive.  In short, I heard Chris!

I’ve had the pleasure of performing many, many times with Chris over the years – in Broadway pits, with Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, and on an eclectic collection of other gigs that New York freelancers do.  He, like his music, has an easy, gentle way about him, yet he possesses the highest of standards.  As he said to everyone in a recent Schoenberg rehearsal with Orpheus Chamber Orchestra, “Don’t worry.  We’ll bring it.” And “bring it” he does!

To me, Chris has always been the embodiment of versatility and flexibility as a musician, and what I find especially impressive is how he manages to explore so many genres, instruments, and avenues while never losing his edge on the horn – an instrument that really demands your all.  In his album notes, he writes:

“One of the great things about life is enjoying the people you meet and the places you experience during the journey.  If you are too focused on the final destination you miss many of the finer things that are right under your nose.  I have been extremely lucky to travel the world playing music and have met many incredible people from all walks of life.  But to me the most rewarding journey of all is the miraculously sublime, rapturous, sometimes melancholy, and often solitary journey of self-expression.  If you can make that a daily trip and one that is truly exciting and fun then life is full and you no longer have any need for distractions.”

We were too rushed on our last job together to have a chance to sit down and do a proper interview, but he graciously agreed to be “interviewed” over email, and this is the result.

Hometown: Merriam, Kansas

Schools: Wichita State University (3 years), Cleveland Institute of Music (1 year), Manhattan School of Music (2 years)

Major Horn Teachers: Jim Funkhauser, Nick Smith, Richard Solis, David Jolley

Can you tell me a little bit about how you got your start on horn?

I started cornet in fourth grade.  In the sixth grade I started horn because no one played it and a friend of the family had one I could borrow.  I soon joined the Junior Youth Symphony of Kansas City – a good full-sized orchestra.  I think the first rehearsal was Swan Lake.   I was hooked from then on.  I kept playing trumpet in jazz band in junior high and picked up the trombone to play in jazz band in high school because my horn teacher wasn’t too pleased about me playing trumpet and not focusing on the horn.   So I just didn’t tell him about the trombone.  He found out anyway, of course.  I guess I knew in Junior High that I wanted to try to play music for a living.  Since I was good at the horn and loved playing orchestra music it eventually got narrowed down to horn.  In college I put the trombone away but began dabbling on piano.  Eventually I got good enough to play in one of the school big bands.  I took some improvisation classes and one year of private lessons (on piano).

I know you’re involved in a great many things in New York, not just horn playing – but can you tell me a little bit about your work life in New York as a horn player?  What have been your favorite things about it?  And what have you found to be the most challenging things about being a freelancer in New York?

Well, the great thing about New York is the variety – and the fact that you can take whatever you are into all the way.  I play Broadway shows, jazz gigs, recording dates, chamber music gigs, and get to tour the world with artists like Barbra Streisand.   And I get to play with a very good orchestra (the New Jersey Symphony) on a very regular basis and sub quite a bit with the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra.   I also teach horn at Princeton University.  The bad thing is there is a lot of schlepping from place to place and NYC can be a bit stressful because of the noise pollution and the traffic and all the people.

I would love to get your opinion about the state of the arts right now.  I don’t know about you, but sometimes I feel like the world is changing REALLY fast, and the music industry seems to be in peril.  Do you have any thoughts about this? Do you see the changes in the world as being bad for our art form?  If so, do you have any thoughts on how to respond?

Well, I agree, things look grim for the arts in general right now. The fact is, the arts have always had to struggle to survive bottom lines…and they always WILL have to struggle.  But great art and great artists will always survive and there will always be an audience for it.  The truth is, with the internet, and with the sudden availability of all types of music to everyone, more and more people are getting into music in a much deeper way than ever before.  More kids are learning instruments than ever before.  Whereas attendance at major league ball games are down, more and more kids are getting into music and dance than ever before.  I read that over one thousand kids tried out for the Cadets of Bergen County (a drum and bugle corps) – twice the amount from the year before.  So the spin is not altogether accurate.  Not every professional orchestra will survive these times but many will, and many new groups are being formed and are thriving.  Yes, I am an eternal optimist, but I truly believe that things will turn back towards quality (like acoustic sound versus amplified sound) and away from hype and abrasiveness.

Stemming from this question, what do you think are the most important things for young horn players – thinking about going into music, or already on a path in music – to know or consider.  What advice would you have for them?

The key for young horn players (and young musicians in general these days) is to be versatile.  Learn to improvise, learn different styles of music, and be able to adapt your sound and style to fit both the orchestral sound and a woodwind quintet.  Be able to play on the leg and off the leg and know when to do which.  And check out all kinds of music and check it out live as much as possible.  Also, learn different instruments that may strike your fancy.  Some things you learn on other instruments actually carry over to horn playing.

Also, make your practicing interesting and fun.  If you are bored with practicing, something is very wrong.  This is extremely important.  Whatever it takes…I found that learning to improvise and playing other instruments was what I needed to do.  I also found that learning to improvise even moderately well opened up all sorts of new doors.

One note about improvising – the big ol’ elephant in the room is called inhibition.  So when beginning to improvise, make sure no one can hear you – because you will sound like an idiot for quite a while.  And remember that it is a process of three steps forward and two steps back.  You will make progress and then you will get frustrated and stop.  Then the bug will bite you again and you will try to do it some more.  If you stick with it, eventually it will become incredibly rewarding.

So can you describe for me in what way learning to improvise helps you when you sit down to play in the classical world?  Is it the non-inhibition thing?  Is it that your brain has had to work in different ways and you approach classical playing with more inner freedom?

Well, yes, it has to do with inner freedom.  This inner freedom that the process of learning to improvise brings will bring a simpler, more natural aspect to phrasing.  It will allow all of your music to simply “breathe” much more naturally and give your “classical” playing a much more improvised-sounding aspect.

Now am I remembering correctly that you have some method books out?

I have three books out, but Mike Davis is the master behind all of them.  The very beginner books have a couple of tracks that actually try to get you improvising.  Mike is an incredible jazz trombone player and he did all the work on these books not me.  They come with play-along CDs and one even has a DVD with me demonstrating some things.

[Check out Michael Davis’ website at www.hip-bonemusic.com to find Chris’s books]

Now for the extra-fun stuff:  Tell me about your interests outside of the horn and some of the projects you have been involved with.

Well, I guess I can plug my retreat project in Montana here.  In 2007, I somehow managed to get my hands on sixty acres in the mountains of Montana, in the middle of the Lewis and Clark National Forest!  My plan was to build a unique cooperative artist community from scratch – yup, from scratch!  Lo and behold, four years later the project is actually underway.

If you like camping, right now you can come stay as long as you like in the summer, if you are willing to get your hands dirty.  The website is www.thunderheadrefuge.org.  We have a blast out there, and the work doesn’t feel like work because of the place and the vision.  I invite everyone reading this to come.  Don’t be shy – we need more help!!

What CDs do you have out these days?

Well, I am sideman on quite a few jazz records now.  On some of them I am improvising, others not.  Some of the artists I have worked with recently are Ryan Keberle, Marta Topferova, Jamie Baum, Donny McCaslin, and Gary Morgan.  But the big news is I released a solo piano CD with all original music – something that had been in the works for quite sometime.  It is called Travlin’ Music (folk songs, ballads and improvisations). It is jazzy and folky but hopefully sounds fresh and original too.  You can hear some cuts on my MySpace page.  (www.myspace.com/ChrisKomer.)  A second solo piano CD is nearing completion as well.

I do want to release my own jazz horn record eventually.  People have been asking me for a long time when that is going to happen.  I do perform from time to time with my own quintet (horn, tenor/soprano sax, piano, bass, drums) with my own original charts and arrangements, so it is only a matter of time.

I heard from our colleague Jacqui Adams (of Genghis Barbie fame these days!) that you have some pretty stellar books to recommend.  Can you tell me about those?  Do you have any favorite good reads that you would recommend for young horn players?

This is a great question and one which few people ever ask me.  But, yes, I can recommend some very good books that have inspired me through the years.

The Artist Way by Julia Cameron: Incredible stuff.  This book should be handed out on day one at every music school in the country.  It is a handbook for artists of all types and an incredibly powerful tool for seeing your creative dreams become reality.   There are actually three books in the series now, but all of her books, including her autobiography are incredibly inspirational.  She talks about all the stuff your private teachers and professors and your parents never talk about.

The Seth Books by Jane Roberts:  OK – these books will turn your whole view of the universe upside-down in a most magical and positive way.  Get ready to have your minds blown.  I think there are eight or nine books in the series.  Any great musician (artist) needs to delve deep into his/her own mind at some point and these books help you do it.

Effortless Mastery by Kenny Werner: Kenny is a great jazz pianist who has written a beautiful book about the mystical side of making music.  We need more books like this. His ideas and guided meditations (this book also comes with a CD) can be applied to many things in life besides music.

Learn to Play Jazz and Improvise by Jamey Abersold:  These books (each book comes with a play along CD) were the main tool I used to teach myself how to improvise and play over chord changes.  One tip:  don’t get bogged down with the book.   Just put the CD on and start playing along.  Your ear is your main teacher.  Warning: playing improvised music is a highly addictive activity.

A couple of other books:  The Inner Game of Tennis, Zen and the Art of Archery – these help with the mental side of horn playing.    Also, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which talks about the tricky subject of defining quality.

I also recommend reading biographies and autobiographies of musicians and artists – always enlightening and inspirational.   Some recent ones that I enjoyed immensely are biographies of Bill Evans, Salvador Dali, Marc Chagall, Jaco Pastorious, and Vincent Van Gogh (who wrote near the end of his life….”I have now resigned myself to the fact that I will never amount to anything as a painter….”)

Thank you so much, Chris, for sharing your thoughts and inspirational ideas and suggestions.  I look forward to hearing how all of your projects continue to grow and progress!

Resources:

www.myspace.com/chriskomer – Chris’s MySpace page

www.thunderheadrefuge.org – website for his artists’ retreat Thunderhead Refuge

www.hip-bonemusic.com – Michael Davis’ site which contains some warm-up books/CDs and books for learning improvisation that feature Chris.

Posted in Interviews with Professional Horn Players | Leave a comment

The Greatness of Little Things, And Vice-Versa

Japan has been on my mind and in my heart a lot these past several days for obvious reasons.  During this time, I find myself mulling over the things I love about that country, the things I find most impressive about the Japanese people, and thinking about contributions that the people and culture of Japan have added to this world.  Perhaps this is my way of holding the Japanese people in my heart and praying for them….

A few examples:  I love the attention to detail – when you buy something in Japan, you know it is going to be expertly and artfully wrapped, and mostly likely in beautiful paper that you will never want to throw away.  I love the taste of the ocean in the sushi.  I love the flavor of grassy springtime in my cup of sencha.  I love the hot-water pots that are in the hotel rooms.  I love the warm toilet seats.  I love the bullet trains.  I love the pens and pencils and stickers and paper at Itoya.  I love the gorgeous animated films of Hayao Miyazaki and the fantastical books of Haruki Murakami.

One of my very favorite things to come out of Japan is a slim little volume written by Kakuzo Okakura around the turn of the 20th century entitled The Book of Tea.  It is one of the first books to share with the Western world the ideals and philosophies of Japan.  The first English edition appeared in 1906.  It is less about tea than it is about aesthetics and a philosophy of living.  He calls it Tea-ism. In addition to his chapter about Schools of Tea, there is a chapter on Art Appreciation and a chapter on Flower Arranging.  It all comes down to this, as stated Elise Grilli (who wrote the introduction of the edition that I have): “Okakura revealed to the West a unified concept of art and life, of nature and art blended into a harmony of daily living…”

Here are a few of my favorite quotes from this book:

“Those who cannot feel the littleness of great things in themselves are apt to overlook the greatness of little things in others.”

“Everyone has to build anew his sky of hope and peace.”

“The tea-master held that real appreciation of art is only possible to those who make of it a living influence.”

“The tea-master strove to be something more than the artist, – art itself.”

There is also a beautiful story of a musician named Peiwoh who had success in playing a seemingly unplayable harp because he sang, not of himself, as others who had tried to play it had done, but let the harp choose its theme.

There are so many more treasured passages in this book for me, but one of the greatest things I carry away from it is the idea that in the little, seemingly mundane acts of our lives, there is a potential for greatness and for great beauty.

Musician or not, I think that we all can find inspiration in the ideals of Kakuzo’s Tea-ism, knowing that the attitude we bring to the little things of life makes the biggest difference.

For all of the victims and their families, and for my friends and colleagues living in Japan: you are in my heart and in my prayers!

(Some of my favorite photos of little things in Japan below…)

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Piece of Metal, A Quick Follow-up Thought

One of my favorite people in the world to listen to is Krista Tippet.  She has a radio show on public radio called Being.

On this week’s show, she interviews two astronomers who work out of the Vatican Observatory and talks with them about the stars, about science, about their faith.   One of them is named Guy Consolmagno.  In light of my recent post, Piece of Metal, I was completely struck by this introduction of the show in which Krista Tippet describes some of what this man has struggled with while studying the stars.

“Guy Consolmagno considered abandoning his scientific career at one point because he could not justify studying the stars when people were dying of hunger. He joined the Peace Corps and was sent to Kenya where he was assigned to teach astronomy at the University of Nairobi.

There, every time he cranked up a car-battery-powered telescope, entire villages would turn out in thrall to what he could show them about the night sky. He came to believe that the urge to look up at the stars and wonder where we come from and how we fit in is as essential to our humanity as our need for food.”

What a great image!  Entire villages coming out to star-gaze!  The human need for wonder and beyond-subsistence existence is always stunning to me.

And I think we musicians are not so far from this astronomer – enabling those around us to be “star-gazers” of the aural world…

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Presence, Clarity, and Courage: A Conversation with Julie Landsman

There aren’t many horn players out there who are as revered as Julie Landsman.  Recently retired from 25 years as principal horn of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra, she continues to teach at the Juilliard School, and was recently in Philadelphia doing some visiting teaching at the Curtis Institute and playing extra with Philadelphia Orchestra on Strauss’ Ein Heldenleben.  She said she is having the time of her life playing 6th horn and playing some low notes for once!  My husband and I took the opportunity of her visit to have dinner with her, and she graciously agreed to allow me to pull out my cassette recorder and tape an interview with her.

As we were talking, I was reminded (not as if I had forgotten…) of what attracted me to seek her advice and guidance in New York.  I never officially studied with her, but after I graduated, had been in a job for a year out of the country, and moved back to New York to freelance, I sought her out for lessons whenever she could manage time for them.  One of the greatest things that Julie does (at least for me) is to keep the ultimate purpose of horn-playing elevated and inspired, while bringing the process of getting there into the here and now, very practical, rooted in the body, no fuss-no muss.  When I left my lessons with Julie, I always felt as if I not only had a vision of where I needed to go, I had a plan of how to get there – something that I could incorporate the very next time I picked up my horn.  I felt stretched both upwards and downwards – elevated, but grounded.  It had the effect of bringing a fuzzy lens into very sharp focus.  This is powerful, and no doubt why so many of her students have had such great success in the professional horn world.

I chose the words presence, clarity, and courage to describe my conversation with Julie, not because we talked extensively about those traits, though they were touched upon peripherally somewhat, but more because these are qualities that often have defined the time that I have spent with her, and qualities I believe she fosters so beautifully.

I wish I could capture for you in the written word her presence, the intention with which she spoke, and the generosity of heart she shared through the following conversation, but I will have to leave that to your imagination as you read her words.

Enjoy!

BEGINNINGS

I understand you were born in Brooklyn, right?  Can you tell me a little bit about your childhood and how you found the horn?

When I was 12 in Ardsley, NY, I wanted to be in the band.  And I went to hear a band concert and it just looked like fun.  So I told my mother I wanted to play the English horn – I didn’t even know what it was.  She went to my band director, said, “My daughter wants to play the English horn.”  He said, “We need French horn players.  The English horn will cost you $7 a lesson, but I’ll teach for free if she wants to play the French horn.”  My mother spotted a bargain and she said, “Ok, she’ll be a horn player.”  Simple economics.  And he said, “OK.  Send your daughter to me.  She has to have a good ear and good teeth.”  So I showed him my teeth, which he approved of, and he plucked a few notes on the piano and he made me sing them back, and he said, “OK.  Go rent a French horn.”  And I did.  Having heard a band concert and seen baritone horn bell pointing forward, I couldn’t understand how horn players sat.  I didn’t get it.  I thought, “Well, do they use mirrors and sit backwards?”  So that was how I started my career.  Horn was in the air, bell up, going “OK!  I like the horn!”

When was it that you realized you wanted to be a horn player?

From very early on.  I could play it right away.  There were very few things I could do well – very few.  I was a bad student, I got in trouble from my parents for doing all kinds of things, but I could play the horn.  It was easy.

What can you tell me about studying with James Chambers at Juilliard?

He was imperious….I think that might have been shades of his teacher Anton Horner with the Philadelphia Orchestra and the Curtis Institute — funny to talk about them here.

[We were dining at Parc in Philadelphia right across the street from Curtis].

He was very much about sound.  I had never heard about tone, and I had never heard about support – air.  My teacher had never mentioned them to me in high school.  Not once did those topics come up.  And in my first lesson with Chambers when he mentioned using support, it was like, “huh? What’s that?  Use my air?  Never even heard of it!  What’s air?  Have a sound?”  I mean, I had a sound, but my playing was not based on sound at that time.  So Chambers changed my entire sensibility pretty quickly.  No regrets!

Where were you after school?  Did you go immediately to a job?

I had a job in Canada because my boyfriend was a horn player in the Toronto Symphony, and I wanted to be near him.   And the National Ballet of Canada had a first horn opening, and I took the audition and I won.  And I guess that’s the first job I had out of school.  We went on the road a lot and made a lot of money, quickly, which was not my goal, but it happened kind of young, so that was my first professional job in a semi-full-time way.

Then after that I was a freelancer.  I played a bit with St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, and extra with the [New York] Philharmonic.  I played with Orpheus – way back when! – and American Symphony.  You know there was a lot more work in New York.  A lot more work.   This was in the late 70’s – a very busy time.  I played extra with the Met.  Stage band.  I thought it was the greatest thing.  I used to kiss the ground when I walked in the stage door.   To me it was a sacred place.

The Met?

I had my eye on the chair.

From way back then…

From age thirteen.  Because I met the first horn Howard Howard who became my teacher – that was when I was 13, so from 13 to 18 I was at the opera five times a week in standing room, with opera glasses.  I didn’t really look on stage.  I was [looking] in the pit.  I’ve spent much of my life involved in that Met pit, in one way or another.

Then you were in Houston for three years, then to the Met from there.

Twenty-five years at the Met.

THOUGHTS ABOUT A LIFE IN MUSIC

So, I wonder, what are the things that you find the most satisfying about being a professional musician?

Two things come to mind:  the first one is collaboration.  The second one is sound – the composite of sound.  I like that.  I like finding someone’s sound.  I like working within it.  I like the partnership – the partnership of sound.  I’m not sure that the average person would get that, but that’s the joy – that’s so cool!  Hard to teach, but I try.

What for you have been the biggest challenges of being a musician?

Maintaining Self.  It’s so important to have yourself intact when you’ve got your horn in your hands.  Your ego, who you are, what you have to say.  And that gets thrown off by other influences, be they conductors or colleagues, or people who might have their own agendas.  To not get thrown off my path, and really stick strong – it has been a big learning curve for me, big learning curve.

Yes, it seems there’s a very fine balance when you are a part of an organization or an ensemble, and must give up something of yourself to be a part of that, to be part of something larger than you are….

…and then not lose who you are, especially in the hot seat.  See, it’s easier as a section player, and more acceptable.  But in that hot seat, if you’re missing pieces of YOU, that’s a stressful situation, and I’ve had plenty of that.  To me that is toxic…that’s poison.  I used to have to work pretty hard inside to conjure up lots of strength inside of me to go out there and do it.   Unbelievable courage.

Yes, courage

Major acts of courage on a daily basis.

I’m not sure the average person understands what it’s like to put yourself out there like that.

No…or you get a reviewer going after you…  It doesn’t matter [if what they say is true or not].  It comes from a place where they don’t understand what it takes to get out there, and put yourself out there.

THOUGHTS ABOUT THE STATE OF THE ARTS AND TEACHING

One thing that has been on my mind a lot recently is the state of the arts and how things are changing so quickly.  I believe it is in part because of technology – people are participating in music in different ways than they have in the past.  And the economy is not helping these days either.  I often feel like it’s the end of an era in a certain way.  But I wonder if you could share some of your thoughts about the music business and about changes in the world and technology and the way people are participating in music or not participating, as the case may be….

I have a way in terms of the state of the arts of trying not to go there, because I think it’s awful, and I don’t know how much I can do to influence it, so I try to keep [my approach] very basic. “Can I help this person be a better horn player?”  As a teacher, I can’t even at this point imagine what job they’re going to go for, but can I help them play the horn better? Can I help them be a better person in how they approach their work with other human beings?  How [can I teach them to] take responsibility?  There’s much to be taught. Yet it’s a very different world than when I started teaching…

Another question I have along these same lines: what are the biggest challenges for young horn players these days, in your opinion, and do you have any advice or thoughts for them?

I do have some thoughts.  Unless it means everything to you, don’t waste your good time and money.  There still we be jobs for the few-and-far-between exceptionals, but in order to be exceptional, you have to put 100% in every day for many, many years with no guarantee at the end.  So those are tough odds, but if that’s where you’re at, don’t let anyone talk you out of it.

Teaching is very important to you, I know, and I know many of your students.  And I wonder if you’ve had any observations over the years about the ones who are most successful in the horn world and if there are qualities that these exceptional students share?

Yes.  Self-motivation.  I don’t have to tell them to work.  They bring it in.  I don’t want to waste my time telling a kid to work.  It pisses me off to even think about telling someone to work!  And unfortunately I do have to do that on occasion.  For me the perfect formula is someone who is gifted naturally musically, because I cannot teach someone to feel.  I don’t even know how to teach someone to listen.  I try.  That’s a toughie too. But a gifted student who has a natural, musical feel who needs to grow up, be exposed to how to put it together in a beautiful package, bring them to me, but they have to be 100% self-motivated.  Do not look to me for motivation.  I’ll support yours.  Emphatically.

FAVORITE THINGS

Who have been some of the most influential people in your life?

Carmine Caruso.  Without skipping a beat!

Tell me about him.

I loved him.  He was a great human being, a great teacher, a fantastic influence on my playing, my life, and my teaching.  HUGE influence.

You worked with him for a long time?

I did.  He taught my high school band teacher trumpet.  And then he started working with my high school band.  So, since I was 14 I’ve been doing his stuff – that’s when I met him.  He also started to teach my horn teacher – all through my high school band director in Ardsley, NY.  Carmine came and coached the band.  We would do the 6 notes and intervals and pedal f-sharps and chromatic scales as a band for our warm-ups every morning.

Could you tell me about his philosophy and approach?

Yeah.  He taught with a very gentle hand, with a lot of love and a lot of kindness, and taking a lot of responsibility as the teacher to teach you.  It was not a negative “you can’t do this.  You sound like &%#!.”  More like, he took the job seriously of making you sound better and teaching you how to do something and really dispensed with the negativity that some teachers use.  I so ate it up.  For me, it was like having Mr. Rogers as my horn teacher.  The main philosophy is, “I like you just the way you are, and now if we’re going to like you even more, I will teach you how to get from point A to point B.  All you have to do is do what I teach you.”  And I did.  It worked like magic.  Magic!  Wow!  I like that!

The exercises are sort of like calisthenics, right?  And based on timing….

Yes, it’s a fairly physical approach.  And the point isn’t so much to keep at a physical plane – it’s to free the body to play music.  So it’s about training so that you’re completely free when you play without having the physical issues that hang up a lot of players.  It works really well.

Someone I know equated it to Iyengar Yoga.

Which I love!  That’s the kind of yoga I’ve been practicing.

I remember that – so I find it very interesting that you are attracted to both things.

How did they make those parallels?

I think it was the exactness of the Iyengar approach – the scientific, sort of physical focus of it that seemed to this person to be similar.

You know I haven’t figured out exactly what it is about it that appeals to me in a similar way.  It might be that it’s structured, with very specific instructions, that I just find that works.  In both situations it works!  I like structure.  I need it.  I really do, because I’m not that structured in my being.  So I enjoy: “Do it like this.”  I like that very much!

Now I remember a few years ago we had talked about Jack Kornfield’s book A Path With Heart and we shared an affinity for it.  I wonder if there are other books out there that you really love and that you like sharing with people.

Well along the lines of meditation, I’m a real fan of Sylvia Boorstein.  Do you know her?  She is what they call a Jewbu.  She’s one of my people.  She’s a little Jewish lady from Brooklyn – I relate to her very well.  And her meditation style is “Metta” meditation – loving-kindness, and it’s absolutely beautiful.  And this is the stuff I would do before my performances where I really wanted to hit a home run.  I did a lot of Metta mediation.  It really made a difference.  Huge difference.  I would still do it today for particular performances should the occasion arise.  The Pavane – do you remember what happened for that concert?

[a concert Julie and I did together while on tour with Orpheus Chamber Orchestra several years ago]

Before the concert?  Yes, I remember.  You were in your own space.

Yes, I was doing a meditation for a friend who had just died in Cleveland – the bassoonist Lynette Diers Cohen.  Frank Cohen’s wife.  Do you remember that?

Yes, I never met her, but know her as Diana’s mother.

Yes.  I just spent Christmas with the rest of the Cohen’s who are left, which we’ve done since Lynette died.  But that was shortly after she died and it was Valentine’s Day when we played in Cleveland.  And that Pavane was for her.  I still cry thinking about it.  She was onstage with me, and I really played for her.  And there’s no better place to play from than your heart – IF you are secure technically.  And that’s where the Caruso piece fits in.  All I’ve got to do is set my timing up and make sure I take a nice breath and use it, and that’s all the technique that I need besides the flow of the subdivision to keep it structured.  So that all my attention could be on sound, expression, seeing Lynette in my heart.  Huge stuff.  You have to be pretty evolved on many levels to do that.  In other words, you have to be pretty secure with your technique.  I can’t really think of a first horn player who wouldn’t get their shorts in a bunch over the Pavane, which, my shorts were a little bunched.  But I certainly was able to shift over to a much more spiritual base for the performance.

One last question: is there anything that you’ve learned over the years that you keep coming back to, something that strikes you as a big truth and very important?

Something does come to mind.  And that’s about being a good colleague.   I think it’s really important to treat people respectfully.  What goes around comes around.  I believe in that really strongly.

That seems to be a good place to conclude – in thinking about how to treat others.  Julie, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and feelings with us and for being so open and giving of yourself in answering these questions.

Posted in Interviews with Professional Horn Players | 13 Comments

Piece of Metal

From time to time I find myself flipping back and forth between the front-page headlines of the New York Times to the Arts section, struck by the fact that these two categories can even be in the same paper.  I am prone to feel a pang of guilt. “Shouldn’t I be doing something?  I mean REALLY doing something?” I’m not a diplomat, I’m not an ambassador, I cannot look for cures for diseases.  It is easy to feel helpless and useless when big-world things are happening.  And what am I doing?  I’m going to a rehearsal, or I have a concert.  All I do is play the horn!

Sometime during the first year of my master’s degree at Juilliard (and my first year in New York), for whatever reason, I was feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.  At some point in one of my lessons with Jerome Ashby (former Associate Principal of the New York Philharmonic who has sadly departed this world all too soon), I reached a point of frustration and said something to the effect of “I don’t know why I’m blowing into this piece of metal!”  He leaned back and paused for a while, and then in his laid-back, gentle way said something to the effect of “I think you know it’s more than that.”  I don’t remember how the conversation proceeded, but I do know that pretty soon, we went back to working on Till Eulenspiegel or Ein Heldenleben or Tchaik 5 or whatever I had on my plate for that lesson.

More recently, living in Philadelphia, where the orchestra is in contract negotiations and the mood is a bit dark regarding possible outcomes, there is a slightly different feeling of helplessness.  When our fellow musicians in Detroit are facing complete ruin, and it seems that classical music is losing its importance and relevance in society, and that no one would care if these wonderful organizations ceased to exist or became unrecognizable artistically, it is very easy to wonder “what’s the point?” if you are someone who has worked very hard your entire life offer the absolute best of yourself and your talent.  Does anyone care?

I expressed this feeling to a very wise woman recently and she paused, and then proceeded to share with me a saying of Julian of Norwich, and medieval woman mystic – “All will be well.”  – a response that is not so different from what Mr. Ashby said in the face of my frustration and sense of pointlessness.  About a week later, I ran across her again, along with a man who had recently heard a concert I had played (and was only a small part of).  We were all three standing together and the man proceeded to tell me how moved he was by the concert, and to please tell my husband too (who played in the same concert) how much he enjoyed it.  My wise friend just listened and smiled, and after the man left she said, “See?  You just have to do what you do!”

So, what I learn over and over again is that, actually, the Arts section is very appropriately placed in the New York Times.  In fact, the more violent the headlines, or the more dire the economic situation here at home, or the more uncertain the future, the more important the Arts section seems in a certain way.  It deals with the questions, “What is important to us?  How do we respond creatively to our world?  How do we tap into the wisdom of previous generations?  How do we go forward from here?”  Apart from the love and care we give to our families and friends and whoever else is given to us to love and care for, what more important thing can there be than to “do what we do”?  This means different things to different people, but for a musician it is simply picking up our instruments day after day and participating in life in our own way.  Whether you are performing on a big stage, or a smaller stage, or teaching children, or playing in a nursing home, or participating by being an audience member, it is relevant, and important, and beautiful.

This is not to say that changes won’t happen in our professional lives or that we may at some point decide to participate in life a different way.  It’s just that, for now, with various kinds of turmoil and uncertainty around us, (and at the risk of sounding like a Pollyanna) I believe we can find a sense of  “helpfulness” in the world instead of helplessness.  I can get out my horn this week, rehearse, play, teach, and not feel as if it isn’t enough or that it doesn’t matter.  It is enough.  It matters.

Now, let’s face it, we musicians are not dealing with life and death.  There is no one on the operating table.  We cannot take ourselves quite so seriously.  But we ARE dealing in life!  And we can be generous with that and take heart and be aware that the smallest of rituals can have unknown and unanticipated effects.  I was very surprised when a neighbor (a particularly nice one, it must be said) told me “you know, I think all of our neighbors open up their windows to hear your scales!”  I’m not sure I believe her, but anyway, she was very nice to say it, and for today I’m choosing to believe it – until someone knocks on my door and says, “will you please keep that racket down?”

In the words of the Brits:  Keep calm and carry on!

Posted in Philosophy | 4 Comments