Cherubino

Good news: School started last week! Hoorah!

Bad news: The new studio accompanying teacher thought that it would be a brilliant idea to give us all two Mozart aria accompaniments to learn. In a week. And not just any week, but the first week of school. It wouldn’t be so bad. I love Mozart. Really. We’re like blood brothers this semester. But Mozart’s cute little sense of humor makes these arias excessively difficult to play.

The opera is The Marriage of Figaro, and the arias are Cherubino’s. I don’t pretend to know much about opera, but Cherubino is a charming character. He’s a page, meaning he’s 15-ish years old. I would say that he provides comic relief, but I’m pretty sure that this whole opera is one giant comic relief. At any rate, Cherubino sings about how he is plagued by love, and falls deeply in love with every woman he sees (essentially). And we can’t blame him. Falling in love is, after all, one of the favorite pastimes of romantic adolescent boys. The arias themselves would be somewhat serious, except for the fact that they’re played/sung at ludicrously quick tempos. (You can listen to them here and here.) Hence my problem trying to learn them in a week.

They can’t be learned well in a week, I say, after trying very laboriously and neglecting other Mozart and new Chopin in the process. They might even sound a bit sober tomorrow. Quelle horreur, Monsieur Mozart!

Street Pianos

Obviously, I am very behind the times here. I heard about this project a few weeks ago, after it had concluded in New York. With that being said, I admire what this man is doing. I try very hard to keep my posts from being too personal, because there are very few people who would want to read about my personal life. But I want people to know why it is that I find this project--the goal of which is the sharing of music--to be so inspiring.

I've been a good pianist for quite some time now, but I've been a dismal performer until very recently. And believe me, I am still learning, and have a very long way to go. The reason for my terrible performance skills wasn't due to lack of ability. I merely did not understand the concept of engaging an audience. In my mind, there was an invisible wall between *my* person and *my* music, and the people sitting in the seats in front of me. I didn't want to share the music, because it was mine. I believed that the audience wouldn't understand anyway. Most importantly, I did not realize that it was, in fact, my job as a performer to share music with the people who were there to listen.

Eventually, I came to see that this idea of my being solitary, alone in the music, was not what I needed to continue to be happy with my chosen career. Essentially, I had a eureka moment, and came to the realization that the only way I could have long-term musical contentment was by playing *to*someone. When I play Beethoven, for example, I want the audience to feel what I am feeling when I play.

What I'm trying to say is this. It's best when someone is there to listen. And that is why I love Luke Jerram and what he's doing.

I'm fairly certain that I sound disgustingly pretentious right now. Share the music, man, and all that jazz. This is what happens when I'm feeling especially feminine and become inspired to write about feelings. So forgive me, and thank you for humoring me by reading this, if indeed you made it through to the end.

More Temperaments

Somehow, I doubt that anyone who reads this blog is as interested in temperaments as I am. However, I find it fascinating. As a result, I want to be able to explain it well, and I'm afraid that I fell short last time. This is merely another explanation. I'm not forcing you to read it, and forgive me for my single-mindedness concerning topics that interest me.

Chopin Nocturne Op. 72 No. 1

A friend and I were talking music last night, and this piece came up in conversation. Of course, I had to revisit the piece, and it's as wonderful as I remember. It's an appropriate piece for an empty music building at 6 am. It's lonely-sounding.

As angsty as this piece is, I really do love it. Chopin composed the piece when he was seventeen. He was like that emo kid in high school that no one likes, the one who writes really self-absorbed songs about being misunderstood, accompanied by mediocre guitar strumming. I'm convinced that Chopin was trying to convey the same emotions, but *he* actually did a good job. I'm looking at you, emo kid.

I'm shamelessly poking fun, but I really don't take this piece lightly. It's heartbreakingly beautiful. I love piano, and I love playing. But I can count on one hand the pieces I've played that have really moved me, and this is one of them. I'm a sucker for Chopin, but it's gorgeous. Listen here.

This is supposedly Chopin's first nocturne, and it's much more simple harmonically and melodically than some of his later nocturnes. Personally, I find that appealing. There's nothing to hide behind, there are very few moments of virtuosity. It's delicate and sensitive and emotional.

Enjoy.

BONUS: EMANUEL AX IS COMING TO BAYLOR. AM I EXCITED?! I AM EXCITED!