Ailene Mary Nase, a tribute

I had begun asking for piano lessons when I was around three. "You may start once you are in kindergarten," my parents had said. Apparently, after the first day of kindergarten, I asked, "when do I start?" 

The natural choice was to have me begin with Miss Nase. She was, at that time, my mother's teacher. I was obsessed from an early age with watching my mother practice. 

Lessons when I was young were my favorite thing of the week. Reading came quickly and I would play the piano every time I walked past the instrument (which at that time was a Kimball Artist's Console). 

There are so many things which I owe Ailene. But of primary importance, or what I have carried with me into my professional career, are: stage presence, form, analysis, theory, the need for imagination, open-score reading, and an absolute passion and love for music, the making of it, and the need to put that first. 

I studied with this woman for ten years. I think she mostly enjoyed me, except when I was being stubborn and opinionated. (This has been known to happen on occasion). I remember one lesson where I was assigned multiple movements of a Clementi sonata. At that point in my life, I didn't want to play any slow movements. So I ripped the slow movement out of the book and hid it in my piano bench at home, and went back the next week to the lesson, outer (quicker) movements prepared and no slow movement. When she asked me about it, I told her that my book didn't have one. (I remember a stiffled smile - I wasn't fooling anyone).

She instilled in me the importance of knowing theory very well from the beginning. We worked on it from day one, along with ear training. One of the questions that I've never been able to answer is that, at one point after moving back to PA from Oberlin, I inherited five of her old students. ALL of them had either perfect pitch or very highly developed relative pitch. How she developed this continues to be a mystery, but mathetmatically, 80% of a small group is a very high number of musicians to have that level of pitch memory. She herself was an accomplished choral conductor, so the importance of many facets of the "total musician" - strong rhythm, strong reading skills, theory, really good ears, score reading, improvisation - were strengths in her teaching. These are strengths I have to this day, and I can't possibly begin to show how much gratitude I have for her teaching in this way.

I also remember her tirelessly rehearsing us before recitals, about how to walk to the piano, how to bow, how to sit, how to thank the audience. She insisted on Sunday "formal" attire for her recitals, and they were beautiful. After the recital, we were all given a carnation for congratulations, and then had a reception. 

Ailene taught (at one point, but not all at the same time) both of my parents and three of my siblings. She was also completely identifiable and unique - white Mercedes, distinctive perfume, always dressed so beautifully for lessons, beautiful manicured nails (she didn't play a lot in the days when I was studying with her). I can still remember her dog and also her lovely home (decorated like a French parlor). Her "studio" was a finished garage which held a Baldwin piano and a harpsichord, which her father had built for her. She was the one that introduced me to harpsichord playing, and that is another bug which really stuck. 

Her support for the arts and of people's participation in music is another thread which is strong through my core, even today. 

When I received word that she passed away, when I was in Germany, it put me into a more contemplative but also state of incredible gratitude and grace. This woman had given me, and so many other musicians, so much to be thankful for. My concerts in Germany in my mind were offered in dedication for *her* - her life, her passion for music, her looking after me (musically) for a decade. In re-reading her obituary, my affinity for vocal music wasn't something that sprung up at Oberlin. It is, essentially, "mother's milk," for she understand vocal music, line, and counterpoint in genuine way.

She even passed at eighty-eight years, which shows her true dedication to the piano.

PHOTO: Miss Nase, how I remember her ... 

)For more information, please visit http://www.williamsbergeykoffel.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=837:-nase-ailene-mary&catid=34:obituaries&Itemid=65)

Workshop

Zheng and I headed up to Santa Fe for my birthday a few weeks ago. Among the list of “immediate necessities” to see were Santa Fe Opera and the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum. 

Georgia O’Keeffe has been a fascinating artist to me for a long time. We studied her in high school, and I was interested in her flower paintings and “cow bones.” As an adult, I learned of her relationship with Alfred Stieglitz, and therefore of his contribution to the photography and modern art world. 

I have long admired her independence, and her following her calling to explore the West, at a time when it was much more desolate and isolated than it is now. She pushed herself to try new things and to be “uncomfortable,” and definitely not follow the “normal expectations of a woman and housewife in the 1930s.” 

She walked miles a day, painting things that would have been considered “garish” or “not worthy of someone’s canvas.” She held her own with her headstrong husband, and invented modern American art in the process. 

I am constantly fascinated by how creative people work. What time are they the most creative? What do they need as “fuel” (food, drink), or supplies? Do they like clutter or do they need clean surfaces?

Georgia’s kitchen bookshelf and studio workshop are on display at the museum. Her artwork is also on constant rotation at the museum, which means that Zheng and I will have to go back and visit soon. 

PHOTOS: Her workshop and bookshelf!

 

This calls for celebration ...

Since my last post, I have received positive news that I can share …

I passed my written comprehensive doctoral exam! 

This exam was such a monster, and I am so happy to have this portion behind me. My next portion is on March 25th, the Oral Exam. My father says, “you have the gift of gab, so you will be fine!” 

The next weeks will be spent preparing for things I might have to argue or talk about - piano, language, conducting, poetry, song, opera, chamber music. I can live happily if I get to put more studying into these matters.

I saw Charity, my maid-of-honor, on Friday, for a celebratory glass of wine on my way home teaching in Ithaca. And today, my newest batch of Nespresso pods arrived. 

(Heaven in a small cup).

Things are looking up.

The end of a "break," and a second Whole-30

After the comps, I deliberately took 2 weeks off of blogging. 

They were everything that you'd expect this exam to be at a place like Eastman. Immensely comprehensive, detail-oriented, wide-ranging. Did I mention that it was two consecutive days of 8 hours-per-day typing in the computer lab? 

(We are still waiting to hear the results).

January, as I've discussed on this blog, was a 30-day time of "no sugar, no sweets, Whole-30." It was one of the best things I could have done. Sweet "no-nos" no longer are as appealing, and when I do indulge, it is one of great moderation and reward. On Valentines' Day, Zheng and I had a little bit of port and one square each of Ghiradelli Sea Salt chocolate. Great indulgence, and it was different than eating an entire piece of cake. Equal praise can be bestowed upon an outing in Philadelphia with a dear friend, to "Tria" wine bar. Treats with gorgonzola and brie, paired with two glasses of Spanish wine, was delightful. I'm still savoring it.

February, I've decided, is another month of "no." What hits the chopping block this month?

Facebook.

I'm on Day "3" of the fast, and my husband has already noticed a difference in my personality. I'm less distracted, and I'm also less prone to travel the "Oh-my-goodness-x-person-just-got-a-job-and-I-want-a-real-job-..." path. Ignorance is bliss. I know plenty of people that live without the Facebook culture, and they are some of the happiest people I know. I have kept on my phone the "Messenger" app, which has never caused angst. (It's just like another email address). And I won't delete the account because I've stored photo albums from travel over the past few years that are really work keeping up. 

Other than that, birthdays download to my calendar, so I won't miss them. The ones for which "real" cards must be sent will still happen. Small electronic messages not getting sent anymore - that's alright with me. 

(I might check again on my birthday, however. That's not for another four months).  

PHOTOS: are from our Valentines' celebration. We would like to wish everyone a great (if not late) Chinese New Year and Valentines' Day!

Live and Let Live

2013 is about to come to a screeching halt (whoops, I mean - it is about to gently roll over into 2014). New Years' Resolutions abound for all of us, and since this is the third of four "New Years" in the past twelve months, resolutions seem mut at this point.

Four "New Years"? Let me explain .... 

1. The academic calendar will always signify a New Year to me, no matter what kind of job(s) I am doing. Opera companies tend to often revolve around the academic calendar. So, September 1st is a New Year, celebrated by barbecues, no more white shoes, and back-to-school sales.

2. Zheng and I got married on October 26th, so that is a New Year for our marriage, to be rolled-over every October 26th. 

3. The actual Julian Calendar (the one that Westerners observe). The occasion for New Year's Rockin' Eve, champagne, games, and gatherings with friends.

4. Chinese New Year. I am as excited about this as about some aspects of wedding planning. By marrying someone who is Chinese, it gives us another excuse to party! Chinese New Year this year is January 31st. We are ending the Year of the Snake and ringing in the Year of the Horse. 

Zheng and I have been reading up on different traditions about this holiday. Different factions of Chinese speakers (Hong Kong, Macau, Mainland China by province, Taiwan, Malaysia, different Chinatowns throughout the world) have different ways of ringing in the New Year. We are planning a great celebration, so stay tuned! 

For a "resolution," I resolve (for this New Year) to "live and let live." No more questions about why people do certain things, and then no more yielding to the judgement that follows. No more questions about why my cats sleep in my parents' artificial plants, or why my husband insists on constant slipper-wearing inside the house. And this extends to myself - no more judgement on why I do what I do, or why I feel what I feel. I should learn to accept anything in its moment, and then make a decision on how to react that is best. I resolve to trust God with so many of the other details, and to proceed one step at a time.

Happy New Year! What are your resolutions?

PHOTO: Panda, sound asleep in my parents' plants!

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." 

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. 

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.