Notes on the Bainbridge Symphony Orchestra

First, a peek at a delightful book I spied last week when I taught music at Wilkes Elementary: The Philharmonic Gets Dressed, by Karla Kuskin and illustrated by Marc Simont.

Second, a quick review of yesterday’s matinee performance:

The Preshow:
Excellent! A table for making a paper-plate shaker, an instrument petting zoo (S. played a violin) demo table for make-it-yourself trumpets (garden hose, plastic water/soda bottle, tape), strange and beautiful old horns, young cellists concert.

The Program:
Mozart – Die Zauberflöte, K. 620: Overture
Bruch – Concerto for Violin No. 1 in G minor, op. 26 (featuring guest soloist Corin Lee)
Ravel – Ma mère l’Oye (Mother Goose) Suite
Nielsen – Aladdin, op. 34: 7 pieces (Selections)

The Bruch was the best of them all (I suspect the Bainbridge orchestra spent the most practice time honing this one in preparation for our stellar guest). Here’s Sarah Chang playing the 3rd movement:

The Guest Violinist:
Corin (Cory) Lee’s playing is immensely pure and lyrical. He graduated from Julliard, and is now in a Masters program at Yale. His encore was a variation on Vivaldi’s “Summer”–on electric violin, with a looping board. His bow started to seem like a magic wand, conjuring deeply textured waves of sound.

The Conductor:
Still fairly new to BI, Wesley Schulz is balletic in physique and movement. Graceful and precise. Great pre-performance talk regarding the program.

The Seats:
Front-row seats might seem like a fabulous idea if you’re taking children. It’s true, they can see every small movement of the cellists and violinists. It’s also true that in the BPA, the musicians can see every squirm and cough of the front-row audience.

First Playlist for the Sis (Valentine Edition)

Happy sunny day and a little music for S. and everyone!

1. Feist “The Water”

2. Bjork “Like Someone in Love”

3. Nina Simone “Feeling Good”

4. Bon Iver “Love More”

5. Patrick Watson “Sit Down Beside Me”

6. Eric Whitacre “Water Night”

7. Andrew Bird –Live at the Guggenheim

Mochi Tsuki at IslandWood

Today’s mochi tsuki, or community mochi-making, was Bainbridge Island’s 23rd annual festival celebrating the Japanese new year with the chewy rice cakes, and it was a lark!

First, sweet glutinous rice is soaked overnight. Then it’s steamed in boxes and poured into a stone mortar. There it’s pounded with wooden mallets until it forms a sticky, elastic dough.

Inside the dining hall, we got to make our own mochi balls from the dough: starting with a twisted-off piece of rice dough, we stretched it to accommodate a ball of red bean paste and patted it into a sphere. Just slightly sweet but mostly very bland, quite tender and very chewy, mochi is a bit like a (healthier?)version of cookie dough–not really my cup of tea, but perfect as a once-a-year celebratory snack.

Seattle Kokon Taiko gave a great performance (we luckily got tickets for their last set of the day). Whatever is wrong, taiko makes it better, if only for the duration of the performance–the whole-body resonance it produces demands that you be fully present and leaves you feeling renewed, joyful, smiling.

Such a lovely walking speed

There comes a time in a child’s musical education when her musical capabilities actually provide listening pleasure to others during practice sessions. This is hugely gratifying for a parent.

There is the little problem of vicarious ambition, whose shadow lurks whenever parents set their children up with lessons of the sort they never had or never chose but would have if circumstances had allowed it. But mostly, listening to S. play her Andantes from Suzuki book 2, I’m just purely happy that in 9 months’ time of lessons, she’s able to pick up her guitar and make beautiful music.

Her teacher, J.D., who keeps a studio at B.I’s Island Music Center (and is kind of a big deal in other venues) is a warm and encouraging stickler for proper form. He’s one of the best role models S’s come in contact with.

Reflection, 2nd quarter

When 2 of every 3 papers I have to write are “Reflection” assignments, the very word reflection has taken on a loathsome tinge. A case of familiarity breeding contempt? Perhaps. Nonetheless, I find an inquiry into the etymology of the word to be useful. Reflection comes from the Latin root reflexionem, to flex. To bend backward. To stretch. So, to stretch again.

On the MIT program: I’m feeling significantly less stress re: keeping up with readings and writing the papers this quarter. I’ve acclimated to the demands, and also figured out how long it takes me to get through readings and draft papers. Basically, it takes me 1-3 minutes to read and annotate one page of academic text, and it takes me two hours to write one polished page.

On living a balanced life:
I just heard “A Good Heart”, a new song from Cowboy Junkies that I am absolutely in love with. I want to do a version of this with extended cello and piano. Someday?

On downtime and breathing space: 3 energetic kids, a continual bubbling stream of houseguests, the nature of my program, and significant commuting time all provide lots of opportunities for me to practice being zen.

The rainy forest at first light

It’s very quiet in my house right now–I’ve been awake since 5am, listening to the rain and the birds, working on some projects.

Rain and Birds at 5am

►

Outside and in

Around the May garden: a flourishing potato patch, lots of columbine, ants on the peonies, and bright rhodies.

But I’m not out there–I’m in the midst of this Luddite nest I’ve made, laying 2 great eggs: 2 papers that are due tomorrow and waaaay too hard to write, for some reason. Okay, writing break’s over!

Oh, wait–I want to stall for just a minute more. This evening I heard “Ain’t Nobody Here But Us Chickens” and I keep singing the refrain while I’m working. “We’ve got things to do, we’ve got eggs to lay.” Yes I do.

Guter mond

If you have an hour over the next two days, stop by Bainbridge’s Island Music Center to hear some great performances by local musicians– both teachers and students– at the 16 hour+ marathon grand piano celebration.

My K. sang last night, and there’s not a good word to describe the feeling a parent has when at first one is terribly worried one’s child is not prepared for the challenge at hand– and then it is crystal clear that they had everything in hand to succeed beautifully. Relief? Pride? Jubilation?

Bee Eaters on B.I.

The Bee Eaters‘ concert last night at the BPA was an extraordinary experience. The four-person band (banjo, hammered dulcimer, cello, fiddle) played to a full and enthusiastic house, and since they return to Bainbridge regularly, I’m already looking forward to hearing them again.

Simon tunes his hammered dulcimer before the show. He plays with such grace and precision, he becomes a dancer at the dulcimer.

They play around with enough dissonance to give their sound a new-music edge, while being firmly grounded in traditional American/Appalacian roots.

Permeable membrane

listen
love
let things in
let things out
live in this permeable membrane,
weep and laugh and read and remember and
live

Here’s a song from Vic Chesnutt. RIP.

Abayneh Adefris. This article (and this kid’s smile) make me so happy.