The Force of J.S. Bach

We have a big concert (and two big concerti) tomorrow night! It’s the third annual “Bach by Candlelight.” Click here to purchase tickets. 

PHOTO: A Go-Pro photo of Bach practicing, Concerto in d minor, BWV 1052. Come on Saturday to hear it! 

 

Here is a video link to something I made. Click on this ...  See if you get the joke - you have to watch until the end of the video - 

And here is a quote by Glenn Gould that perfectly sums up why I / we do this concert every year, and my feelings on Bach’s music in particular …. 

 

"I think that if I were required to spend the rest of my life on a desert island, and to listen to or play the music of any one composer during all that time, that composer would almost certainly be Bach. 

"I really can’t think of any other music which is so all-encompassing, which moves me so deeply and so consistently, and which, to use a rather imprecise word, is valuable beyond all of its skill and brilliance for something more meaningful than that — its humanity."

Semi-simple summer

Greetings everyone! 

I was intentionally absent from the blog-o-sphere when Zheng and I took a much-needed vacation to the San Francisco Bay Area. Photos forthcoming. We had an amazing time exploring that time. I had not returned since my summer at Merola (2007!) so it was amazing to be back there. 

I’m now hard at work on a project involving the musical history of Darmstadt, Germany along with my current position and relationships at UNM. The project is to present solo piano works of current UNM composers and their pieces, alongside pair-able German works in the common repertoire (occasional Bach or Brahms) or with a composer who was at Darmstadt during the initial years of the summer course (Berio, Babbitt, Messiaen). 

 

 

I have my first “outing” of some of the pieces this coming Thursday and Saturday, for a house concert (visit this post if you haven’t seen it before).

I have downtime this summer as well - so the summer is some playing and some resting. 

Semi-simple.

PHOTO: The opening to Milton Babbitt’s “Semi-Simple Variations.”

Faît accompli!

Yesterday was a great day.

I got to share music with new friends and colleagues, who, a year ago, I had just met. One year later, we were rehearsing, forming our own “community” as a vocal department of five, and then - of course - properly celebrating afterwards with a Chinese food reception! 

Heartfelt thanks to everyone - my faculty partners, the faculty there to support, the crew of Keller Hall, the audio and video crew, my family for cooking the reception … 

There will be more photos, along with beautiful sound and video forthcoming! 

In the meantime, enjoy photos of the “celebration” afterwards. 

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!

 

Prescription: Thirteen "Medications" to Surviving a Doctorate

About a week and a half ago, I posted a photo on Facebook that depicted the final item which I had to do for my doctoral degree. I had a short harpsichord jury to complete, and afterwards, my friend Mary took this picture. 

PHOTO: Mary Holzhauer (one of many great doctoral partners-in-crime!)

Amongst the many comments and congratulations received on Facebook (posting news like this is one of the only merits of Facebook, I have come to believe), I received one question. This question was,

"What´s your musical prescription to survive a doctorate sane?”

A very good question.

I started thinking about it. 

I reflected upon what kept me going (sometimes there were several things). I reflected upon the very difficult times (moving here, starting the degree, making friends, feeling lonely, pressure, deadlines) and the very happy times (sharing a stage with some amazing people, travel, deepening my abilities, receiving recognition for something hard-earned). 

And here, very much in my order, are my thirteen “prescriptions” for surviving a doctorate. 

1. Go to bed by midnight. 
2. Don’t compare yourself to others.
3. Cultivate relationships with faculty and peers in your program and at your school (or at conferences, festivals, etc.).
4. Cultivate and nurture relationships with family, friends, and significant others outside of your degree, geographical location, and area(s) of interest or study.
5. Schedule your nervous breakdowns. 
6. Vent, in moderation, and with great caution and discretion.
7. Kitchen timers are magical.
8. Get an “A” in two things at a time. C’s are fine for the rest.
9. Keep tabs on your savings, checking, student loans, and credit cards.
10. Celebrate when necessary. 
11. Find a mentor. Lean in. Check in.
12. Be stubborn. Be flexible. Know when to toggle between the two.
13. Go very, very, far away when you can. 

I will be expanding each one of these points into essays all on their own. It's been something I've wanted to do for a long while, and if it can help the next generation of soon-to-be graduates, or even people contemplating their terminal degrees, then it will have served its purpose. 

Fait accompli!

Remember the post in which I discussed Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas? 

Well, the production is finished! I survived tech week amidst hosting a high-profile and beloved guest. I am so happy that the project came together as well as it did. I learned a few things during this process:

1). Give concrete and specific notes. This is a general idea that can be gleaned from years of elite training at Oberlin, Westminster Choir College, Tanglewood, Curtis, Merola, and Eastman. 

2). Be realistic about how much you are asking. Yes, aim high. Yes, have big goals. And yes, have concrete, daily steps or instructions which you can impart to your cast, crew, musicians, and partners. 

3). Focus first on what has improved. I noticed that these directives will get better results faster. The corrections were also able to be implemented in a context of something that worked. 

4). Lots of things will fix themselves. Trust your delegation, your colleagues, and your concept (if you’ve been clear about it from the beginning). 

5). Appreciate the small “errors” with grace and a sense of humor. A prop malfunction which happened during Friday night’s performance still brings a smile to my face. The performance continued and the actors “made it work” during the moment. 

The above things are things I need to remember during projects or other creative processes.

PHOTOS: Taken with my phone - they are of the rehearsal footage.  

American Opera Triptych

I’m home after a good 10-day engagement in Wisconsin. I was invited to University of Wisconsin Stevens Point, to music-direct an opera. I had suggested: 

“A Hand of Bridge” (Samuel Barber)
“The Telephone” (Gian Carlo Menotti)
“The Old Maid and the Thief” (Gian Carlo Menotti)

I had gone there to cast the show in November, and then returned in late March for rehearsals, tech week, dress rehearsals, and performances. I performed all three of these from the keyboard for the performances, along with a gifted student percussionist adding some obbligato and sound effects. 

There were a few things that I felt were incredibly successful about the project:

1). Clear, detailed direction. I am learning that some of the best teaching (which can also transition into performing or “directing” at the professional level) is rooted in this skill. My great friend and colleague of nearly a decade had invited me to music-direct his show, and we both took this approach. M.M. is very detail-oriented, so I was very happy to have my detail-oriented coaching or teaching style complement this. The students did very well with our approach, I felt.

2). Creativity. We had a lot of fun and “play” with this show. We borrowed a porpoise-skull (!) from the Art Department, for Ben to give to Lucy at the top of “The Telephone” (the score indicates that his gift is an abstract sculpture). We also had a great time with three “jingle girls” - a trio of singing sisters who sang commercials, composed by one of the composition faculty at UWSP. These were a hit and almost stole the show from the actually larger works! We had also set the entire production as a radio-broadcast, with audience watching. 

3). Being human, being ourselves. I was out in Wisconsin immediately after taking my doctoral oral exam. And then I had to wait all day in O’Hare airport because of a poorly handled canceled flight and baggage detail. I made it to UWSP, just later than intended. My friend, my host and co-director, had offered his home very hospitably. That also meant late nights chatting, catching up, always with wine. I still don’t think I’ve recovered from this time, and my body certainly doesn’t want to go to bed when it should.

4). Native language of audience and cast. There is nothing like the immediacy of singing or hearing in your own language. I was also a fiend about clear text, and it paid off: M.M.’s parents visited from North Carolina for the performances, and they said they could understand everything. 

I am so grateful for this project, for the opportunity to music-direct, and for the trip and the time spent in a new place. 

Here is a link introducing the production. https://vimeo.com/90440940

PHOTO: Me with the “Jingle Girls.” 

 

Breath

Oh, wow ... how time has flown since I've last "written" or posted. (I haven't been writing my morning pages either, and I'm feeling it these days). 

Since the last post, I've added a name to my own. For many of you who have asked (and will continue to ask), the new name is Kristin Ditlow Yuan. (No more "Alynn"). God-willing, the "Dr." will be added to the beginning of my name, by the end of this academic year!

The absence of writing (and the limitation of my other creative needs, such as practicing) have been put on hold due to a small event called a WEDDING. Our wedding was "small" by most standards, especially by standards according to the county in which we were married. But getting ready for it felt like a gigantic task. Details. Payments. Handling the DJ, the photographer, the flowers, the menu. How are people getting from the church to the reception? (We did *not* rent a limo or bus. And it was just fine). 

I think the greatest mark of our wedding was my Dad's comment:

"I wouldn't have done anything differently." 

And that is a stamp of approval, because getting my beloved Dad to wear anything but a pair of jeans and a polar fleece is a semi-big deal. Add to it making him (at times) the center of attention and a lot of people, some of whom he doesn't know (my friends) and you have a situation which would make a lot of people uncomfortable. 

I never thought that I'd say that my wedding was "comfortable," but it really was. I didn't mind being in the dress all day (a pair of lower heels helped my feet be okay), my hair stayed put, thanks to the marvelous work of JR, I knew everyone who was in attendance, and the music was spectacular. 

So as I get a chance to breathe, in the middle of a coffee shop in Stevens Point, WI (I'm here for the first of a two-part residency that will conclude during the spring of 2014), I'm happy to say that Zheng and I survived, very happily, the planning and happening of our "big day."

We actually really loved it.  

Another thing that we loved about our wedding was how "personal" it was. Our friends played in an orchestra for us, conducted by another one of our good friends. Four other friends sang (some of these people were also bridesmaids or the maid-of-honor). My uncle took the pictures. Several of my mom's family handled the detail of getting lunch for the orchestra before the ceremony. And the gifts and cards we received were so personal as well. So many people wrote beautiful things in the cards (a few cards were hand-made). Ellen, who you've read about so much here in the blog, made an afghan which she started when we announced our engagement. Zheng's mom clothed my entire family in traditional Chinese-style dress. (Many of us wore these to the rehearsal dinner). Another uncle rolled a rolling pin for us! Aying made a speech which was so beautiful - in both Mandarin and English. The amount of work that took is phenomenal. (We were planning to do our vows bilingually, but that didn't end up happening). There are so many things for which we are grateful. The next weeks will be spent thanking those people with (personalized) thank-you cards. And my grandmother Nanny was a beacon of sainthood and sanity throughout.

So, with great pleasure, I can take a breath, and say, the work was worth it. We made the right decisions about how to cut costs, I survived planning a wedding from a distance while working two new jobs. We did this because of not only how stubborn we are, but also because of our amazing "family" and our continual reliance on God. 

Coping Skills of the Gypsy Life

I'm not sure if it is "Carmen" in the air these days with Syracuse Opera, or that I've been basically away from home for a month ... I've had occasional visits back to Rochester - of course to see Zheng, Aying, and Lucia, but also to see friends, or to handle my church music director duties as I can. Zheng made a last-minute decision to drive here last night, which was wonderful, spontaneous, and a delight. 

But I have "gypsy" life on the brain lately. 

There are amazing things about getting to travel. You meet amazing people (I met the man I will marry in two weeks when I was halfway across the globe!). 

You learn a lot. About the world, about other people, and about yourself. 

But there is also nothing like being home.  Waking up in your own bed and moving at your own pace. The hotel lifestyle has perks (maid service and daily meals prepared for you sometimes) and drawbacks (sterile decorations, genericness, no personal touches, no Nespresso machine that I love). 

I heard a great interview yesterday while listening to the radio. The Broadway tour of "Warhorse" is in Syracuse these days, and the radio announcer on 91.3 Syracuse was pushing the public to come and see the show. She was explaining that these people have to be "so incredibly good" that they are paid and asked to leave home and take their art on the road. They have to put up with the daily grind of living in hotels, living in-and-out of suitcases, and having to deal with things like grocery store layouts that are not what they are used to. 

(Don't dismiss the grocery-store thing. My amazing maid-of-honor and kindred spirit friend, CL, came and rescued me with microwaveable-fridgeable-groceries only.).

My brilliant and think-on-her-feet colleague and friend here, CDE, has started cooking using a skillet, a convection burner from Costco, and an ironing board. I had a meal she made on this a few days ago. Another one of the cast members, WM , said that he was washing his dishes in the tub.

It's "make it work time" here. Travel is great. But it can also be a grind, no question about it.

(But if I changed the blog name to "Songs of Grind," I'd have a *very* different audience base.)

PHOTO: The champagne reception from last Sunday's "sold out" performance in Utica, of "Nine Operas in Ninety Minutes." 

Noticing the Extraordinary

Greetings, everyone!

We are winding down our first week in Syracuse! We only got here four days ago, but since that time, we have rehearsed, polished, and staged ninety minutes of music. Not a small feat! And in between that time, my colleagues and I have gotten used to some of the extraordinary things in our new surroundings. 

Whenever traveling, no matter where, there are things that pop out at us as special and notable. That is not to say that a spectacular view, a tall building, or a momentous event are not worth noting. By the size of their spectacle, we notice them. 

And here is my list of "Five Notables" for this week (maybe this will be a Friday thing ...)

1. Painted Horses. Syracuse has a series of horse sculptures throughout town which are painted in tribute to different artists. (Watch the photo later). It really picks up your spirit when you are on the (Van) Go(gh).

2. Coffee-shaped benches. Who wouldn't love to sit on an espresso-shaped demi-tasse? How cute is that? The diameter of the cup is amply sized, no doubtedly designed for two amply-sized American rear ends. 

3. Our hotel will put dinner aside for us if we call ahead. Dinner, which is on the house at our accommodations, is strictly served between 5:30 and 7:00 PM. If you call ahead and sweet-talk the clerk at the front desk, they will save you a plate and it will be waiting for you upon return "home." When I'm busy on a production, sometimes with 8-10 hours of practice or rehearsal a day, the last thing I can think about is preparing, eating, and cleaning a meal. 

4. The coffee shop 'round the corner has the most spectacular pumpkin spice products imaginable. I walked in a few days ago and noticed the aroma of homemade pumpkin spice wafting from the bakery. Ahhhh. Heaven can be purchased for a few dollars. 

5. Syracuse rain is rectangular. It hits your face sideways. It will get you when you least expect it. Have a ten minute break? Walking outside? Don't worry, for the rain will surely find you.

It is the artist's job, after all, to notice the remarkable, and then to proclaim it to the world.