Little Blue Train

Tokaj, Hungary has been the host of the Crescendo Nyari Akademia for the second summer in a row (we were here last year as well). Last year, we had to get used to a new "host location." This meant where to find all the things we needed (and wanted): department stores, ATMs, grocery stores, the best ice cream, the best coffee, bakeries, night-hang-out-places, best place for wine and beer and pizza, and so on. 

PHOTO: Tokaj's little jem. 

A new addition to Tokaj this year was the "Little Blue Train." It was a slow, very cute, tourist train that meandered through the town. The town is also on a slow incline - not very steep, but you notice it when you have walked it twice per day. 

(Average walking during our stay in Tokaj was about 8 km per day). 

It looked like so much fun, so I mentioned to a lot of people that I wanted to take the time to "take the slow train" through the town once. 

PHOTO: My partner-in-crime and I ...

Experiencing our surroundings, no matter how "local" (or "temporarily local") we are, as new travelers, is always recommended. It brings joy, spontenaeity, and a thrill of "new" to us, even in a situation where we are regular residents, employees, or guests.

Saying "farewell" to Sárospatak

I realize that I'm writing this out of order ... and that part of the impetus for writing is merely to share photos! 

The final night in Sárospatak was perfect. Perfect weather, and a most atmospheric night for the performance of "Don Giovanni" (it had been cancelled the previous day due to weather). The performance was riveting, especially with how much everyone gave (singers, orchestra, conductor). And seeing and hearing it in an outdoor, castle setting was spectacular. 

Following the opera, there was a farewell party and dancing in the cafeteria. We had a blast. And we stayed up. All night. After the party, a group of us went to the castle and bid the castle goodbye. We then headed to the bakery, which was open *at 5 in the morning* - picked up some breakfast, and had a group "Bialetti" coffee before turning in. Two hours of sleep and a shower and some frantic packing did the trick. I was ready for the departure as needed.

PHOTOS: from our farewell walk. As Hugo Wolf says, "the darkest hour is just before dawn." 

Zempleni Festival Debut

Dear readers, 

Though I am back in the United States, there are still many more stories and pictures to share from the summer. One of them is from a highlight of Hungary this year, which was my debut as a recitalist with Maria Pantyukhova, mezzo-soprano. Maria was a student at Crescendo in 2012, and she possesses a formidable vocal talent, tremendous spirit, and fabulous musicality. She presented a "greatest hits" of Russian romances from Rimsky-Korsakov, Rubinstein, Tchaikovsky, and Rachmaninoff. And thus I got to play a rewarding, challenging, and very inspiring program. 

We worked together once or twice a day before the recital. Upon getting the music, I practiced like a fiend. Some of the Rachmaninoff and Tchaikovsky were of particular challenge. There was one Tchaikovsky song that was more like a piano concerto than a song, including two pages of the "song" where the singer didn't sing at all! What rewarding, beautiful music. 

She was quite a wonderful partner on stage - such a beautiful sense of the spirit of the texts and music, and plus, her vocal ability is really the whole package - beautiful lower range, nice even middle, powerful top. She's a native Russian speaker, so her descriptive and storytelling abilities were fantastic.

The audience received the music enthusiastically. Their behavior included my favorite Hungarian audience mannerism - that instead of yelling, they all synchronize their clapping. This clapping makes an accelerando and crescendo.

The audience, after leaving, greeted us with praise and thanksgiving for a beautiful concert. They also complimented me on my Russian spirit. I owe that to several things - to the affinity that I've always had for Russian music, to my undergraduate piano teacher at Oberlin, who was Russian-Armenian, to my partial Eastern European heritage, and the sense of home that I have felt in places that used to be behind the "iron curtain" (Czech Republic, Hungary, China).

PHOTO: Our recital poster, and some wonderful spotted horses who were waiting outside our dress rehearsal. 

Farewell to Europe, again

I am winding up my last night in Europe, for now, listening to a wonderful jazz trio play a set. The hotel bar has a terrific selection of wines and coffees and food, and great live music ... 

(I'm right now listening  to a fusion of "Sunrise, Sunset" and some sort of Argentine tango. Fabulous). 

Gone are the days when I would willingly cram myself, 8 people to a room, in a hostel. (And of course, if I had to, I would. But I'm using some "free hotel points" for my stay here, and it is VERY much appreciated). In fact, since the accommodations in Sárospatak are convenient to the institution and community based, but not full of "comforts," I have been able to relax all the more in Budapest. I will be returning to the United States, and to my fiancé, reasonably well-rested, and even more important, I took a little time on my own (today) to process what the summer of work has been. 

Some people might say that I should not take any time away from anyone else, that the three (+) weeks away in the United States were enough and that I should have immediately returned home. 

(For the record, my fiancé was not one of these people).

But, I contend, having a day of rest to myself was *very* important. I walked around, and I rested when I needed to. If I were following the vacation schedule of some people I know, they are up before dawn and they do things all day long. 

THAT is not a vacation to me. I woke up at a reasonable time, and did two things that were crucial. 

Moved at my own pace and volume. (Two things that I don't get to do musically all the time, actually. A lot of that gets dictated in one form or another). 

Today brought some amazing moments. I had a moment of complete peace, and calm, in the middle of one of Pest's squares. The breeze was perfect, and everything was silent - inside and out. 

That will be my goal for the upcoming year. Peace, inside and out. I needed to put a little investment into my "peace bank account." The year ahead will be wonderful. It will also not be easy. 

I will leave you with the final stanza of one of my favorite poems, from one of my favorite American poets. This is the conclusion of Edna St. Vincent Millay's "THE CONCERT." I was introduced to this poem by a friend and colleague who I met nine years ago at Tanglewood.

"Come now, be content.

I will come back to you, I swear I will;
And you will know me still.
I shall be only a little taller
Than when I went."

The question will never be if I will make it back. Or if Zheng will know me. Or if I will know myself. The question surely is, just how tall, and by how much.  

PHOTOS: Are from today's adventures in Budapest.

In Their Own Words

One of the great things about doing something a few times is that you have a chance to improve your process. Could you imagine only doing some things once in a lifetime? I can't imagine the failure rate of a musician if he or she only played something once! (This is different from improvisation, and I will discuss that in a later post). 

On this list of being able to improve (or, in some cases, redeem oneself) is the opportunity to teach several years in a row. I remember my first years as a coach, or as a piano teacher. 

I should probably give all of those students their money back. 

At Crescendo, it has taken me three years to figure out how to teach more effectively. I have also learned not to fill every minute from the beginning. Both instincts were right. I was able to navigate my own schedule more during the Institute. I was also given more leeway in constructing song (or vocal arts) courses that seemed to be applicable and interesting. 

On the docket this summer were two:

Schumann, "Frauenliebe und Leben" via specifics of German Diction 

songs by Nicolae Bretan, with words by Hungarian poet Ady Endre

I stole an idea from Laura Brooks Rice and Christopher Arneson (my supervisors at the CoOPERAtive program) in that they split song cycles amongst students for complete performances. That way, each student performs one (maybe two) song(s), yet the audience can hear the whole cycle. All of the students focus on polishing their assigned pieces, but they have an excellent overview of a larger whole. When they go back to their universities, conservatories or recital programs, they are armed with something incredibly valuable.

The Schumann was a more popular course. I was joined by my brilliant colleague and native German speaker, mezzo-soprano Uta Runne. She handled the most specific issues with text declamation, vowel quality, clarity. I took care of the musical coaching, phrasing, timing, leading. I performed the cycle with the students in concert this past Friday.

The Ady-Hungarian songs were a gift to do this summer. This was the topic of my doctoral treatise and lecture-recital, and I plan on fleshing this project out someday into a book. Several of the Hungarian vocalists were eager to learn this music. They looked through the table of contents of the score I had brought, and they chose the pieces based on the poetry. They said that they had to memorize a lot of these poems in school. 

Usually, I am the one in vocal coachings correcting language. Not in the case with the Ady-Hungarian-Bretan! The students were all native speakers in a language that I can barely handle, so I gave them the reins in terms of "diction." We had a lot of other things to work on! 

Of specific interest to me is the nature of the Hungarian language to use "word paintings." The grammar in Hungarian is not like any of the other Germanic, Slavic, or Romance languages spoken by Hungary's surrounding countries. This language is literally in a class by itself. The grammar has gender and case. It is through an obstacle course of suffixes and letters (42 letters!) that this language paints things so vividly. 

One of the poems was about a moon, as a metaphor for a person destroyed by love. The student working on this piece had excellent English, so we got into an interesting discussion one day:

BD: This means that the moon is not whole.

KD: Does that mean that the moon is a crescent, like we see in the sky, or is it deformed?

BD: I don't know. This word means more "deformed" than "eclipsed." 

KD: Okay. So we need to color the word that way.

PHOTOS: These are from the song course. One is a picture that I drew (my long-time students have come to appreciate my "art." Let's hope they never write a book!), and the other is a photo with Uta of some of the Schumann and Ady course students. 

In Vino Veritas

Last Sunday meant the "day off" so it also meant an activity (if the Crescendo students and staff chose to do so). I signed up for the wine-tasting which also included a really nice meal and trip to a vineyard. Still feeling the effects of the night before (see the post "wedding crashers" - ), I dragged myself onto the bus with my friends. 

The meal was exquisite (this place has been written up in the New York Times) and the wine served with it was also amazing! We then headed out to the vineyard for the "wine tasting." The trek took us to the top of a hill, where we tasted two dry white wines (these were my favorite of the afternoon). We got to enjoy the wine while looking around at the entire region. 

Following the "mountaintop experience," we went to the wine cellar. Amazing cool - cold, even! Thank goodness (most of the weather during our time in Hungary was hot!). I was able to get some great pictures of the "luxury room" - wine that, in total, was worth 6 million Euros!

We had our final bit of tasting in tasting room (still in the cellar). Here, I was really starting to feel the fatigue brought on by the night before. The wines also got progressively sweeter. That is a specialty of the Hungarian Tokaj Wine. (Sweet wines have never been my thing, though. I'm a dry red / dry white / Prosecco lady). 

The bus took us back and we joined everyone for the grill party, near the castle. Luckily, there was such a large crowd that I snuck home after a couple of group Hungarian dances. Monday was business as usual, and that meant plenty of rest was imperative.

PHOTOS: are from our wine adventures this day. 

Wedding Crashers

As it goes, usually in Eastern Europe, my predilections are changed. I stay up later. I socialize more. I become even more fearless with language. Why not? I can't practice Hungarian in the States, so where else am I going to ask for "Hal grillezett zöldségekkel"?

I just love the mix of languages here, spoken everywhere. In the cafeteria, restaurants, lessons, shops, bars, services. I will miss walking around, and hearing a din of things I do or don't understand. 

So, on Saturday, an intrepid, stalwart international group headed out for adventure. It was a mix of Serbians, Romanians, Russians, Portuguese, Greeks, Australians, Americans, and an Italian. The highlight of the evening was crashing a wedding reception! We found one, entered, danced, requested songs, and REALLY made the wait staff mad! We got kicked out after about fifteen minutes, but we did it. Cross that off the list! 

The evening ended with us bringing up the sunshine while sipping Czech beer outside. I was hurting for a couple of days after this night, but I'm happy I did it. 

PHOTO(S): Are both from this night. One is our group at the actual wedding, the other is our 4:15 AM Staropranen. 

Natural Spirituality

Szia! 

(This means, "Hello" or "Goodbye" in Hungarian, for either males or females, and regardless of plural-singular).

I am very happy to be here. Since we had an extra week in Sárospatak, to prepare Don Giovanni, we are at the beginning of Week 3. 

This past Saturday was wonderful and definitely worth sharing. Teaching was as the usual schedule (Schumann "Frauenlieben und Leben" in the morning, and Ady-Dalok following), lunch, more teaching individuals. 

"Creative Church" is one of my favorite events at Crescendo. The Institute moves into the Reform Church in the center of town, and we combine the two things the institute does best (worship and music). I got to share the podium with Timothy Bentch (tenor) and Ellen Rose (viola) on Vaughn Williams' "FOUR HYMNS." I felt that the piano was a little difficult to control, but many people thought the performance was especially moving, from their feedback. Because of the unfamiliar instrument and acoustic to me, I felt like I was hanging on for dear life, even though I knew the piece and the text extremely well. But so many people remarked about the "color" of the instrument. 

At the conclusion of the music, we were free to walk around the church and write, go to the wailing wall and leave our prayers for God, write thank-you notes to people in the Institute, or walk around and greet our colleagues and "brothers and sisters." I was relatively calm throughout the whole event, but did get teary at some sights or even some greetings that I shared with people. 

I have been pondering for a while the differences between organized religion(s), denominations, and different ways that people are "spiritual." I believe that we are all created spiritual beings (much akin to Dr. Shinichi Suzuki's belief about "every child being musical.") For many of us, we can be easily drawn away from this spirituality by life events, an experience within a particular community or congregation, or from a lack of curiosity. 

Creative Church is unique because of its multi-dimensions of scripture, message, music, and the ability to be in community in prayer and thanksgiving. Every year has been different and every year has been beautiful. 

PHOTO: Sárospatak gives a lot of stunning views by both sunset and sunrise. (I've seen both). This is by sunset, on the way to Creative Church. 

Floored

Hello, everyone!

There is much to tell about the adventures in Eastern Europe from this past weekend. I return to the United States in nine days, and I am well aware of the need to "savor" the time here. It will be over fairly quickly. 

I had the pleasure of co-creating, co-teaching and co-moving (I don't think the third is a word) with our wonderful movement teacher, Sandor. (This is the teacher who said the memorable quote, which you can read here:   http://songsoftravelditlow.blogspot.hu/2013/07/exchange-of-vowels.html).

Sandor came to my Hungarian Song course on Friday. He offered some advice to the vocalist "in the hot seat" at the time. He had her follow the contour of the melodic line with the movements of her arm, using curved lines and shapes. 

Younger singers especially have a tendency to lock their arms and hands, showing the audience exactly where things get musically or technically difficult. (Pianists show with our shoulders or face). Her singing was changed once she started moving more freely! I was amazed that a teacher so young could help someone so naturally! I have already stolen and implemented this teaching tool. 

He also asked her to cling to the wall at all times - that she would just move with the music and always have contact. That same "contact point" is something that the wonderful Eastman viola professor, Carol Rodland, spoke about often in her courses. 

After the vocalist left, Sandor and I continued to talk about the freedom of movement that dancers need. Musicians need the same thing, actually, but we spend a good bit of effort getting "out" of our body instead of getting "into" it! 

I found him to be incredibly kinesthetically and personally gifted. He is very good about discussing "boundaries" with artists. Can your leg move that way? How much do you think about breath? How can we fill space, or cross it? I was "floored" by his creativity and open-mindedness about exploring new ideas. He has clearly trained classically but is also working on a new theory and method for teaching movement, dance, and choreography. I hope to work with him in the future! (I had an idea to do "Quartet for the End of Time" here, with him doing the movements).

We are grateful you were here with us this week!

I took his dance class on Friday and Saturday. It made me realize how much I miss dancing (I studied ballet, tap, and jazz as a kid) and how much we ALL need to be doing this! 

PHOTO: One of the class days where we were exploring how to use space. 

Reservoir of Peace

Today in Small Groups we continued talking about the Roots and Fruits of Christianity (Galatians 5:22). A question came up, which went something like:

"Why is it so easy to understand and speak about joy, and much harder to understand and speak about peace?"

And then I thought - we have all of these tangible ways of measuring money. We learn to save, at some point. We can look at our balance, and hopefully, if we've saved enough, we're able to give money away or retire someday. 

Can the same thing be true for peace? Is peace something more empty (burdens being removed) or full (needs satisfied, not hungry, feeling loved)?

The answer I received tonight is that only the Holy Spirit can be the bringer of peace. If that is true, we should all swim in this, because we will need our spiritual reservoir for when times get hard. I will continue to meditate on this while I'm in Hungary, because I think it could be a lifesaver.

Artists can have a wretched time feeling peaceful. Financial worries can nip at our toes. We must feed the guilt-monster that reminds us to practice. We must painstakingly work on our craft, and the same time, maintain relationships, work towards goals, and care for ourselves and others. 

Touring China with Ellen, and hearing about her preparation process, taught me a lot about "practicing in advance." Those of us who read quickly and learn even quicker know that we can get a lot of work done (musically) in a very short amount of time. However, if "life" happens - extra projects, emergencies of a variety of sorts, etc. - that "cram time" is then put in question - and then we are in real trouble. Ellen's method of practicing things in small ways - gestures, bowing, breaking down different elements, and also practicing in advance, served her well on the tour. When things like illness or fatigue visited, there was no panic about preparation or an ability to pull off a concert. She was thoroughly prepared. She had built her "preparation reservoir." 

What is our spiritual equivalent of this? Daily prayer? Reading? Discussions with other Believers? Writing? A daily walk in silence? Anyone who has any responses or answers, I would welcome them wholeheartedly. 

PHOTO: A lovely snapshot from near the "Teacher's Room" at the Reform Seminary College, Sárospatak, Hungary.

Exchange of Vowels

Something happened this morning that reminded me about the importance of correct pronunciation. (If you have any doubts, ask my fiancé about my Chinese. I've mixed up and said more incorrect things than correct ones). 

This morning, at the opening meeting for the voice department, the movement and dance teacher told the students, "No shoes and no sex." (He meant socks).

That takes the cake of the funniest "mixed vowel" I've heard in a while. Of recent note are also:

"Your Dad made stick on the grill tonight." (steak) 

"Do you know how to fly a cat?" (kite)

The above two entries are from my beloved Zheng. Someday, when my Chinese gets good enough, I will write about my own "mixed vowels" in Mandarin and English.

PHOTO: From Comenius utca in Sárospatak, a path which all of us walk from the Cafeteria to our accommodations in the dormitory.

Lost in Translation (Part 2) - Instructions

There are so many wonderful and still-giggle-inducing "instructions" that we receive when we are abroad. I know that I've made more than my share of awkward, hilarious, or embarrassing linguistic "moments." What I've also noticed is that no matter how much you check texts, if the wrong person is entering them into type-setting, very funny things will happen.

I've already discussed the "You Are Wrong" (translation as "boiled meat") in a menu in China.

A few years ago in Hungary, instead of the Men's and Women's Chorus rehearsal at 7:30, it was listed as Men's and Women's Chores.

An email that I got from a festival that I worked for in Prague asked us to check each other's items of business. However, the email was worded:

"We should be checking each other's thighs over and over again."

And, one that I heard from a friend and colleague who was recently in Romania:

Vocalist Warm-Up (a sign on a room) = Singer Heating

PHOTO: Talk about practicing language! Recitative rehearsal this morning of Don Giovanni. From left to right, Orsi (Zerlina), Katalina (Elvira), Annie (Anna), Josh (Ottavio), Zach (Leporello), Krisztian (Masetto), Tamas (Don Giovanni), Paolo (conducting) and Greg (continuo). Thank you to all!

Morning Routine

Greetings again from Hungary! I am happily concluding Crescendo Summer Institute's "Preparatory Week" in Sárospatak and we are knee-deep here in Don Giovanni. This music and text continue to astound me!

I just finished a short "blog" post which my iPad is (for some reason) not allowing me to open, so I must write another one before retiring. I have been doing some pondering on the following item:

Coffee.

During my trip to China, I barely had any (when I am out of the US, I do not patronize US institutions, which include McDonalds and Starbucks. Some friends think this is nuts. Why would I not want to try the local flavors?).

But, my love affair with a wonderful espresso or a beautiful cappucino is not to be underestimated. It is with these "amanti" (Italian plural word for "lovers") that I accomplish:

1. Morning sanity
2. Setting up my day
3. Setting up what I will practice
4. Reading my wonderful electronic-versions of "The New Yorker" and "The New York Times," keeping in touch with the world, culture, and dreaming of a location where I could live with my fiancé!
5. Score study and-or libretto analysis
6. If I am in the company of another, wonderful conversation (which is a gift in itself!)

Some financial experts get upset about spending money on coffee (i.e. they advise that you make it at home). But some of these people have never traveled to Italy (where even the coffees at the local bar are life-changing), or they do not realize that transporting a tea kettle and coffee of whatever flavor and variety in a suitcase is not worth saving $10.00 or $20.00.

And also, because of the things mentioned above, it helps me enjoy each day a little more. It makes my life better, more pleasant, and happier. That is a small price to pay, I think.

PHOTO: My gift this morning from a clever Kávézó női (Coffee Maker or Barista who is female) in town.

Connecting to Home

Hello, everyone!

I feel lucky to be here and to be connecting with artists from so many places (Hungary, all over the United States, Siberia, Italy, Canada, South Korea). But of tantamount importance is also keeping a close (daily) connection in prayer, and also to my family (and family-to-be).

For the latter, technology has helped a great deal. When I first began traveling through music in 1998, to Italy, it was a "pay phone" that you had to buy a card for, and then tear off a corner and then insert it into a public phone. With the use of cell phones now, these pay phones are pretty much extinct. When I was in Urbania last year, I don't remember seeing any!

Instead, we have FaceTime, which is a remarkable tool. I was able to see my family and fiancé and cat and "have dinner" with them. How great! Yesterday, my beloved Zheng drove to my grandmother's house and surprised her. So I "saw" both of them yesterday! It was great, and it makes the time away go a little easier. Nothing is like being there, but it is a far cry from an Italian pay phone!

PHOTO: This is taken from the roof of the restaurant where we have been having dinner.

Egészségedre! (Cheers, in Hungarian)

There is a bar here in Sárospatak which is an "Italian Restaurant" (my friend and colleague, Paolo, a true Italian, laughs about the un-Italian-ness of this place) It gets a *lot* of business during these weeks of the Crescendo Summer Institute. It is my third night in Hungary and at this point, I am 3/3 for this place. The place is within a few minutes' walk, the prices are incredible (especially for those of us on the American Dollar or Euro) and the atmosphere and people are probably the best part. Imagine "Cheers," but in a remote part of Eastern Europe.

Today some friends and I raised a glass to just being here - to our important work as musicians and Christians and artists, and to supporting each other during our time here and throughout the year. The friendships and relationships which I've fostered from my time here have blossomed into some incredible things, and, my summer in Hungary 2011 is quite directly responsible for my engagement to Zheng!

(So yes, I'm incredibly biased about this place!)

PHOTO: is taken tonight of the first Pálinka which I've had during this visit. I have marching orders to bring some back to the United States, which I will gladly do.

Convergence with a Masterpiece

My project here in Hungary this week is a lot of work on Mozart's "Don Giovanni." For me, the piece just gets better every time I play it - teach it - coach it. There is so much IN it, and one can make different choices every time one interprets it.

For this rotation, my goal is to use this project to front-load practicing for major job auditions coming up. I'm also going to delve even deeper into how Mozart has painted these characters through Lorenzo da Ponte's text. I was talking today with two of the cast members about harmonic motion in recitative, and how the harmonies tell us *exactly* what is going on, even if the text goes somewhere else.

Of special note throughout are the miraculous shifts between major and minor. This is true even in the overture, and shades of this continue in almost every recitative (dialogue) scene and most of the accompanied music. Mozart clearly loved the theater and he also loved the element of suspense, moments of supreme drama, and a hint of the romantic era to come.

It has also been a delight to reunite with cast members (some of which are from former projects or festivals in the US), colleagues, and dear friends. Hungary isn't home in terms of language, but in terms of pilgrimage, my time here has always offered something of a compass. I believe that this time around might be the best yet.

Photo: rooftop of Sárospatak at sunset.

Traveling can be a "breeze" ...

Greetings from Hungary! I flew yesterday from Princeton to Zurich and then onto Budapest. For those of you reading from the Eastern Seaboard of the United States, you know that the oppressive heat which we endured during CoOPERAtive became stifling and movement-reducing. It even got hard to breathe.

So imagine ... getting off of the plane in Budapest and being introduced (greeted by) to beautiful weather, sunny, 75 degrees and a breeze. I almost wept.

The flight here was also worth mentioning. Those of you who have been readers since China (where the blog started. The travels have been ongoing for years!) remember my raving about the Chinese airline service. The Swiss also have it down to a science, and the Chinese and the Swiss still beat any American airline that I've serviced as of late.

The "pampering" on the flight included: hot rolls, hot food which was good, complimentary chocolates served on a tray, good yogurt for breakfast and probably the best airline coffee with milk I've ever had. (key word = airline). I also had the distinct pleasure of the company of a delightful seatmate, a really accomplished PhD Economist who was from Kenya but had spent about 8 years in Italy. We even shared a coffee in the Zurich airport before taking our respective planes (she continued onto Venice).

This is the first time that I've flown to Hungary instead of continuing here by train from other work which preceded it in Europe. So the idea of jet-lag here is foreign to me. It is remarkable to be back in Sárospatak, where such important spiritual things began for me two years ago, and where they were really tested and tried all of last summer. Now, with the bulk of the doctorate behind me, and the blessing of a wonderful fiancé (who is new to my life as of Hungary last year), being back here feels different.

Wonderful-different. My room is quiet and is at the end of the hallway, so I have no neighbor on one side. I also don't get internet in my room, which I think will be a good break (I have to walk about 50 feet to pick up WiFi). That will keep me disciplined into going to bed at a better hour.

I will keep everyone updated as to how this institute progresses. My schedule in Princeton didn't allow me a lot of writing-time, but Hungary always does.

It is, in many ways, a necessary artistic retreat.

PHOTO - is from 2012. These are flowers which are in small groups along the streets in Sárospatak. (The photo has received little post-production magic.)

Perseverance, part 1

Talking to a good friend today made me realize (again) that persistence over time will overcome anything (or almost anything). So many things are reminders of this ... of course practicing, but also: watching trees grow, or being a part of enduring relationships or careers.  

I became acquainted with Tommy Emmanuel's talent, career, and guitar playing only this fall, during a conversation I had with one of my favorite professors at Eastman.  Emmanuel has had an enormous career, spanning decades and the globe.  When someone asked him about the "secret of his success," he responded, "I wake up, and I play a song.  And the next day I wake up, and I play that same song, and the next day, and the next day."  His interview is also a fun read.  I especially enjoy the part at the end when he says, "just play a good song - it's what people want to hear." 

(rooftop picture: Sárospatak, Hungary, August 2012) 

A lesson which traveling through Eastern Europe also teaches is perseverance, to a great degree.  Countries in that part of the world have had to endure economic hardships, changing governments, or changing borders or identities.  Yet, they still have such beauty - perhaps, even more so, from the strength of simply continuing on.