I didn't tell you, officially, that I lost my job two weeks ago. Well, perhaps I didn't "lose" it; Oscar Wilde, for one, would deem such an act careless. I know where it is. It just doesn't belong to me anymore.
Over the course of my almost-two year tenure, my boss promised me a number of things. Below are some of her "promises;" can you guess which one came true? (Hint: there is only one correct answer)
1. "I will give you more hours."
2. "You will get a raise."
3. "You can telecommute occasionally."
4. "You can telecommute when I can give you more hours."
5. "You can perform in one of our shows."
6. "You will be let go on October 15th."
7. "You can stay on after October 15th, on contract."
I think you get the picture. I only agreed to work there for the experience. It was below my paygrade, but I knew I was making a career transition, and accepting the position seemed like a good idea at the time.
I will spare you the details of my employment there. It's possible, anyway, that someone connected to that place will find this blog, and then I'll be blacklisted for life. Suffice it to say that I am happy to be "out" and on my own.
Because I'm working for myself now, suckas!
Mr. P and I have opened a music studio, and it's going gang-busters. Who knew? First of all, who knew I could teach music, at all? Turns out, I'm totally in my element! I actually really love it! I mean, it's challenging. I haven't played guitar in ages, and now I'm teaching it, so I'm all - eee! Better catch up fast. And then singing: I feel very competent and knowledgeable now teaching singing, but my piano skills are el suckitude, so that makes me nervous every time. Not that I'm expected to be some great pianist as a voice teacher (I've had a number of voice teachers who weren't), but it would be nice if I could give them something to sing over.
Despite these small hesitations, I'm noticing many benefits to teaching. A.) I work for myself. B.) The money's pretty good. C.) There's a demand for it. D.) It's like "tightening my gears" as a musician. E.) My life is now consumed with music. I mean, what's not to like here? It's awesome. There is absolutely no down side.
I don't want to jinx it and start bragging or anything, but I think I can safely say that I'm off to a great start in my new career, and it's more than a welcome change after this difficult and anxiety-ridden year I have been having. It's pretty ironic that I looked for nine months for another office job, with no result, and then I open up for teaching, and in TWO WEEKS I replace my measly previous income, and it's only going up from there.
And we even have many more plans for expansion, and not just for the music studio/school! I'll tell you more about that at a later time.
Right now I have to run to my piano lesson. (That's right: the student becomes the teacher becomes the student again. Hey, I gotta keep up here!)
Showing posts with label music: general. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music: general. Show all posts
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
I Lost the Linky in the Excitement. Sorry.
I was coming here to post a link to an article I read yesterday that I thought was from The Hater at The Onion's Avclub, and now I can't find it. Don't you hate that? Apparently, I have completely forgotten where I read it. Anyway, it was a hilarious recap of Oprah's recent nostalgia show extolling the the 1960's, by way of "Mad Men." She somehow works her "Favorite Things" into it, praising electric toothbrushes from the era, as well as mascara, since it was invented in the 60's, and we all seem to "take it for granted." Yeah, Classic O!
Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't blogged in ages; I've been super busy trying to set up essentially two business, while still holding on by the end of my fingernails to my current part-time job. It's called recession incentive! I'll be back shortly with updates, but things is good. Coffee this weekend? Okey doke - see you then!
Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't blogged in ages; I've been super busy trying to set up essentially two business, while still holding on by the end of my fingernails to my current part-time job. It's called recession incentive! I'll be back shortly with updates, but things is good. Coffee this weekend? Okey doke - see you then!
Thursday, August 20, 2009
I am thinking of my voice teacher today. He and his wife lost their 20 year-old son in the Pan Am flight that was bombed and crashed in Lockerbie, Scotland, in 1988. He had been studying abroad and was returning home for the holidays. He was a student at Syracuse University and was studying music.
Today, August 20, Scotland lets the only convicted man from that bombing return home to die of cancer. Today, August 20, is also the birthday of this boy, who would have turned 41 today.
It's a gross irony. I only know about it because I looked up the information on the victim website. I haven't seen my voice teacher in two weeks, but I wonder what he is thinking today.
God bless the innocent victims and the families of victims who suffer from senseless violence and terror. I hope there is a special place in Heaven for all of them.
Updated, 8/28: I found a quote from my teacher in a newspaper about the release. He said:
"I am thinking as a decent human being. Let the man go and die in his own country -- he's dying anyhow. Keeping him in prison is not going to cure the illness that this whole thing is an example of, the killings and murders and the things that go on in mankind."
Today, August 20, Scotland lets the only convicted man from that bombing return home to die of cancer. Today, August 20, is also the birthday of this boy, who would have turned 41 today.
It's a gross irony. I only know about it because I looked up the information on the victim website. I haven't seen my voice teacher in two weeks, but I wonder what he is thinking today.
God bless the innocent victims and the families of victims who suffer from senseless violence and terror. I hope there is a special place in Heaven for all of them.
Updated, 8/28: I found a quote from my teacher in a newspaper about the release. He said:
"I am thinking as a decent human being. Let the man go and die in his own country -- he's dying anyhow. Keeping him in prison is not going to cure the illness that this whole thing is an example of, the killings and murders and the things that go on in mankind."
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
My favorite holiday...
...is Halloween. When else can you freely wear costumes and gorge on candy? Mardi gras, maybe. But that's it.
And in preparation for Halloween, let's talk scary music. Classical, of course.
A person very close to me once said, "to be a musician, you cannot deny the demonic side of yourself." Wow! It's true, though; in order to channel the master works of music written by composers before our time, and in our time, one must be balanced, have life experience, and not deny his or her "dark side." Because sometimes, classical music is dark.
Imagine hearing, for the first time, Bach's Toccata and Fugue in d minor (BWV 565). In 1703, this would be equivalent to a hardcore metal concert of today. I'm talking Nails plus Alice Cooper (I know NIN isn't considered "metal," but you know what I mean). It is virtuosic, and it's impossible to hear without imagining some nasty ghoul playing it on the organ.
This is a not-so-scary video of the sublime piece:
Another favorite of mine is from Greig's vivid suite, Peer Gynt (written for Ibsen's play). The Hall of the Mountain King is considerably scary, especially when you imagine little Peer running away from the Mountain troll and his troll daughters. Run, Peer, run!
This piece, performed here by the Chamber Orchestra of S.João da Madeira Music Academy and directed by Richard Tomes, is short and to the point.
And what else could be more Halloweeny than Saint-Saens' Danse Macabre? This piece, later transcribed by Liszt for the piano, uses the xylophone to depict the sounds of rattling bones, or skeletons dancing. Below is a fan video of Tim Burton's animation to (part of) the composition.
And there are so many more, but for now, I will leave you with these gems.
And in preparation for Halloween, let's talk scary music. Classical, of course.
A person very close to me once said, "to be a musician, you cannot deny the demonic side of yourself." Wow! It's true, though; in order to channel the master works of music written by composers before our time, and in our time, one must be balanced, have life experience, and not deny his or her "dark side." Because sometimes, classical music is dark.
Imagine hearing, for the first time, Bach's Toccata and Fugue in d minor (BWV 565). In 1703, this would be equivalent to a hardcore metal concert of today. I'm talking Nails plus Alice Cooper (I know NIN isn't considered "metal," but you know what I mean). It is virtuosic, and it's impossible to hear without imagining some nasty ghoul playing it on the organ.
This is a not-so-scary video of the sublime piece:
Another favorite of mine is from Greig's vivid suite, Peer Gynt (written for Ibsen's play). The Hall of the Mountain King is considerably scary, especially when you imagine little Peer running away from the Mountain troll and his troll daughters. Run, Peer, run!
This piece, performed here by the Chamber Orchestra of S.João da Madeira Music Academy and directed by Richard Tomes, is short and to the point.
And what else could be more Halloweeny than Saint-Saens' Danse Macabre? This piece, later transcribed by Liszt for the piano, uses the xylophone to depict the sounds of rattling bones, or skeletons dancing. Below is a fan video of Tim Burton's animation to (part of) the composition.
And there are so many more, but for now, I will leave you with these gems.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Looking more deeply at De Falla's "Siete Canciones"
When I first learned and performed "Siete canciones populares españolas" by Manuel de Falla with the classical guitar, I did not closely consider the words. With my rusty knowledge of Spanish, I knew that the first song, "El paño moruno," had something to do with a cloth that had been stained and was now selling for less in a shop. I didn't know why one would sing about a stained cloth, unless it was a stained dress that made history, but I thought the rhythm was cool, so I focused on that. I also knew that "Asturiana" had something to do with crying (and oddly, also a crying pine tree), and "Nana" was some kind of lullaby. What I did not do was analyze the text, because I thought the words were nonsense, and the songs were more about flamenco dance rhythms. This negligence is inexcusable, however, since a singer should always write out the text of a piece and translate it, line by line and word by word, no matter how proficient she thinks she is in the particular language. One of my favorite singers, Barbara Bonney, has said that when she learns a new piece, she starts with the text. Now I know why.
I. El Paño Moruno (The Moorish cloth): a metaphor for loss of virtue. Or, a 19th-century Spanish local commercial jingle.
The fine cloth in the shop, a stain has fallen on it
For less price it sells now, because it has lost its value.
II. Seguidilla Muriciana: those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Also, get your mule and don't be so fake.
Whoever has a roof made of glass, shouldn't throw stones at his neighbor.
Let us be mule drivers; it could be that we may meet each other on the road.
For your inconstancy, I compare you to a coin (peseta) that runs from hand to hand
And becomes so worn and blurred that people start believing it to be false, and they will no longer take it.
III. Asturiana: sometimes you can get so depressed that you make even the trees cry.
To see whether it would console me, I drew near a green pine.
Seeing me weep, it wept.
And the pine, being green, seeing me weep, wept.
IV. Jota (a flamenco dance): good-bye, windows! good-bye, door!
They say we don't love each other,
Because they never see us talking.
But of your heart and mine, they have only to ask.
Now I bid you farewell, your house and your windows, too.
Even though your mother may not like it,
Farewell, little girl until tomorrow.
V. Nana ("nana" literally means lullaby)
Go to sleep, little child, sleep.
Sleep, my soul.
Go to sleep, little star of the morning.
Lulla-lullaby, lulla-lullaby,
Sleep, little star of the morning.
VI. Canción: jeepers, creepers, where'd you get those peepers?
For being traitors, your eyes, I'm going to bury them
You don't know what it costs, "del aire"
Child, the act of looking at them
"Madre a la orilla"
Child, the act of looking at them, "madre."
They say you don't love me, and you have loved me,
The winner goes away, "del aire,"
For the loser: "madre a la orilla"
For the loser: "madre."
ok, I still don't really understand this one. Those "madre" interjections are some kind of specific expressions in Spanish. Further research is required.
VII. Polo (not the horse game, but another flamenco dance): Ay!!
Ay!
I keep a... (Ay!)
I keep a... (Ay!)
I keep a sorrow in my breast.
I keep a sorrow in my breast
That to no one will I tell.
Wretched be love, wretched.
Wretched be love, wretched.
And he who gave me to understand it!
Ay!
This song cycle is so wonderful for its "Spanish-ness:" the pieces are earthy, passionate, hot, emotional, and sharply rhythmical. I do not claim to be a Flamenco singer, or even a mezzo-soprano (the songs are largely middle voice), but I think they work even in the voice of a Waspy soprano. As long as she goes to that Spanish place in her soul.
I. El Paño Moruno (The Moorish cloth): a metaphor for loss of virtue. Or, a 19th-century Spanish local commercial jingle.
The fine cloth in the shop, a stain has fallen on it
For less price it sells now, because it has lost its value.
II. Seguidilla Muriciana: those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Also, get your mule and don't be so fake.
Whoever has a roof made of glass, shouldn't throw stones at his neighbor.
Let us be mule drivers; it could be that we may meet each other on the road.
For your inconstancy, I compare you to a coin (peseta) that runs from hand to hand
And becomes so worn and blurred that people start believing it to be false, and they will no longer take it.
III. Asturiana: sometimes you can get so depressed that you make even the trees cry.
To see whether it would console me, I drew near a green pine.
Seeing me weep, it wept.
And the pine, being green, seeing me weep, wept.
IV. Jota (a flamenco dance): good-bye, windows! good-bye, door!
They say we don't love each other,
Because they never see us talking.
But of your heart and mine, they have only to ask.
Now I bid you farewell, your house and your windows, too.
Even though your mother may not like it,
Farewell, little girl until tomorrow.
V. Nana ("nana" literally means lullaby)
Go to sleep, little child, sleep.
Sleep, my soul.
Go to sleep, little star of the morning.
Lulla-lullaby, lulla-lullaby,
Sleep, little star of the morning.
VI. Canción: jeepers, creepers, where'd you get those peepers?
For being traitors, your eyes, I'm going to bury them
You don't know what it costs, "del aire"
Child, the act of looking at them
"Madre a la orilla"
Child, the act of looking at them, "madre."
They say you don't love me, and you have loved me,
The winner goes away, "del aire,"
For the loser: "madre a la orilla"
For the loser: "madre."
ok, I still don't really understand this one. Those "madre" interjections are some kind of specific expressions in Spanish. Further research is required.
VII. Polo (not the horse game, but another flamenco dance): Ay!!
Ay!
I keep a... (Ay!)
I keep a... (Ay!)
I keep a sorrow in my breast.
I keep a sorrow in my breast
That to no one will I tell.
Wretched be love, wretched.
Wretched be love, wretched.
And he who gave me to understand it!
Ay!
This song cycle is so wonderful for its "Spanish-ness:" the pieces are earthy, passionate, hot, emotional, and sharply rhythmical. I do not claim to be a Flamenco singer, or even a mezzo-soprano (the songs are largely middle voice), but I think they work even in the voice of a Waspy soprano. As long as she goes to that Spanish place in her soul.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Lest We Forget
Sixty-five years after her death, the poems of young Jewish poet Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger live on both in text as well as music. Composer Gershon Kingsley recently set to music the words of the teenage girl from Romania who became imprisoned in a concentration camp.
Despite falling very ill and eventually perishing in this labor camp at the age of 18, she wrote and eventually left behind 52 original poems, many of which were intended for her boyfriend. After the war, a friend of hers rescued the poems and took them to Israel, where they were published.
Her words:
‘I want to live.
I want to laugh and lift loads
and want to fight and love and hate
…and want to be free and breathe and scream.
I don’t want to die. No!
No.
Life is red.
Life is mine.’
I have not heard the whole disc , "Voices from the Shadow," so I cannot review it here, but the snippets give the impression of a music that is personal, intimate, and haunting.
Despite falling very ill and eventually perishing in this labor camp at the age of 18, she wrote and eventually left behind 52 original poems, many of which were intended for her boyfriend. After the war, a friend of hers rescued the poems and took them to Israel, where they were published.
‘I want to live.
I want to laugh and lift loads
and want to fight and love and hate
…and want to be free and breathe and scream.
I don’t want to die. No!
No.
Life is red.
Life is mine.’
I have not heard the whole disc , "Voices from the Shadow," so I cannot review it here, but the snippets give the impression of a music that is personal, intimate, and haunting.
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