Monday, May 14, 2012
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Parental Confession #1
Son of Ass: Term coined by our four-year-old son based on a conglomeration of my vocabulary.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
Interview
Eighth grade viola student Elias Joseph interviewed me about the trials and tribulations of becoming a professional musician. His questions were challenging and evocative:
1. How did you first learn to play the violin?
I started lessons when I was 5 and my parents helped me practice every day (except Christmas)
2. What was hardest when you first started playing?
The discipline of practicing each day. I've never liked practicing. The acquisition of skills comes very gradually on violin with long periods of "not seeming to improve". That delayed gratification is sometimes discouraging.
3. What made you keep playing even though it was hard?
When I was really little, my dad made me a sticker chart. Each day I practiced I put a sticker on the chart. When I got 7 stickers in a row, I got a quarter. It was a tangible exhibit of my progress when musical improvement wasn't so obvious. Also, my teacher had bi-weekly studio classes where all her students got to play together. I was inspired by the older kids who were playing really cool pieces and it was exciting when we all played together.
4. What helped you get better at it?
Practice every single day.
5. Who helped you? How?
My parents were the greatest support (though I didn't always love them for it). I was also lucky to have really inspiring teachers.
When I moved to the Bay Area after college, my friends and colleagues here helped me learn to play genres other than classical. That was a huge challenge because it was like starting over after I had reached a professional level in a different field. But the musicians here seemed confident that i would catch up.
6. Describe one time you knew you were getting better. How did you know?
When I was about eleven I played a solo on a public concert. After the show, a little old lady approached me and said she was surprised I was so small. She didn't see well and thought the tone I produced came from someone much older and stronger.
Many years later, in graduate school, I was in a lesson struggling with an extremely difficult piece. It seemed impossible for my fingers to reach the intervals and my tone was very scratchy because I was so tense. My teacher said one magic thing: "relax you thumb". I'm not even sure which thumb he meant but I relaxed both of them. Suddenly, the fingerings were simple and my tone was totally pure. In one second, I'd achieved an ease of playing that I'd been working for my entire life. It was so easy and such a relief, I think I burst into tears.
7. Once you got good at playing, what made you want to get even better?
I've always been surrounded by incredible musicians. Once I was finally at the level of my peers, I wanted to stay at that place where I could participate with the people that inspire me. It's the same today.
8. How long did it take you before people started coming to you as an expert?
I started teaching some private lessons when I was in high school and running the sectionals in my school orchestra. I also started freelancing with local orchestras and getting paid to play chamber music at events when I was about 16. I studied violin pedagogy in college and continued to teach and perform.
9. Who did you trust to tell you how you were really doing? How did know that they were telling the truth?
The teachers I studied with for 13 years were of the Russian school of violin. They were supportive but did not dole out compliments. I knew I was lucky to be in their studio and the fact that I was invited to stay meant I was worth their effort. They didn't waste time with niceties so I knew they were being honest about my playing.
1. How did you first learn to play the violin?
I started lessons when I was 5 and my parents helped me practice every day (except Christmas)
2. What was hardest when you first started playing?
The discipline of practicing each day. I've never liked practicing. The acquisition of skills comes very gradually on violin with long periods of "not seeming to improve". That delayed gratification is sometimes discouraging.
3. What made you keep playing even though it was hard?
When I was really little, my dad made me a sticker chart. Each day I practiced I put a sticker on the chart. When I got 7 stickers in a row, I got a quarter. It was a tangible exhibit of my progress when musical improvement wasn't so obvious. Also, my teacher had bi-weekly studio classes where all her students got to play together. I was inspired by the older kids who were playing really cool pieces and it was exciting when we all played together.
4. What helped you get better at it?
Practice every single day.
5. Who helped you? How?
My parents were the greatest support (though I didn't always love them for it). I was also lucky to have really inspiring teachers.
When I moved to the Bay Area after college, my friends and colleagues here helped me learn to play genres other than classical. That was a huge challenge because it was like starting over after I had reached a professional level in a different field. But the musicians here seemed confident that i would catch up.
6. Describe one time you knew you were getting better. How did you know?
When I was about eleven I played a solo on a public concert. After the show, a little old lady approached me and said she was surprised I was so small. She didn't see well and thought the tone I produced came from someone much older and stronger.
Many years later, in graduate school, I was in a lesson struggling with an extremely difficult piece. It seemed impossible for my fingers to reach the intervals and my tone was very scratchy because I was so tense. My teacher said one magic thing: "relax you thumb". I'm not even sure which thumb he meant but I relaxed both of them. Suddenly, the fingerings were simple and my tone was totally pure. In one second, I'd achieved an ease of playing that I'd been working for my entire life. It was so easy and such a relief, I think I burst into tears.
7. Once you got good at playing, what made you want to get even better?
I've always been surrounded by incredible musicians. Once I was finally at the level of my peers, I wanted to stay at that place where I could participate with the people that inspire me. It's the same today.
8. How long did it take you before people started coming to you as an expert?
I started teaching some private lessons when I was in high school and running the sectionals in my school orchestra. I also started freelancing with local orchestras and getting paid to play chamber music at events when I was about 16. I studied violin pedagogy in college and continued to teach and perform.
9. Who did you trust to tell you how you were really doing? How did know that they were telling the truth?
The teachers I studied with for 13 years were of the Russian school of violin. They were supportive but did not dole out compliments. I knew I was lucky to be in their studio and the fact that I was invited to stay meant I was worth their effort. They didn't waste time with niceties so I knew they were being honest about my playing.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
The Power of Repetition
What's the secret of every great musician? Repetition.
Repetition is the fastest, most efficient way to internalize music, both mentally and physically. For beginners, repetition builds muscle memory. Muscle memory is writing your name, eating with a fork, typing an email and, yes, playing the violin. For more advanced students, repetition of small chunks of music leads to mastery of large works, often many pages long. And repetition remains the number one way to teach our muscles new tricks or, rather, "technique".
I see the power of repetition each day in my three-year-old son. He recently acquired his dad's childhood lego sets- the NASA models with hundreds of pieces. He is obsessed with putting them together (correctly, using the instruction manual). Of course, he can't do it by himself (in case you're wondering what I've been doing for the past month). He enlists a grown-up to read the manual and instruct him where to connect each piece, which he does do himself. Two hours later, the space shuttle Endeavor is complete and then.... he takes it apart. And we begin again. But here's the crazy thing: after assembling the whole thing four or five times, my three-year-old child is actually MEMORIZING the instruction manual. Yesterday, he completed the last twelve pages of steps without the book or me to help him. Today, he corrected several mistakes I misread between pages 20 and 22. He's three. The lego project is designed for ages 8 and up.
For professional musicians, repetition is truly the way to teach old dogs new tricks. My formal training as a violinist was in classical music, but I make half my living playing jazz, of which I have absolutely no formal training. I gig regularly with a guitarist named Dave. Dave is the band leader, which means he brings the book and calls the tunes. He puts the tunes in a certain order at the beginning of the season and we pretty much play them that way for the next six months. At first, I found this amusing like an endearing personality quirk. "Hey!" he says with enthusiasm at the start of every event, "Why don't we start with 'tis Wonderful'?". Like this is a new idea, like that tune was just randomly appeared at the start of the book. After that it's 'Autumn Leaves' (swing with a rubato intro for kicks), then 'Lucky Southern'. It's pretty much the same set every week. But here's the funny thing: after repeating these tunes each week for the past several months, we're starting to sound like a real band, not just some thrown-together trio sight reading through tunes for the benefit of inebriated wedding guests who really aren't aware that the background music is being produced by real live human beings. AND I'm starting to play those tunes like I know what I'm doing. So, on top of getting paid, I'm actually becoming a better musician. Go figure. This is great because, as I manifesto-ed in blog #1, I hate to practice. So did the late great Stephane Grappelli. But he gigged every single day, probably with someone like Dave.
Repetition is the fastest, most efficient way to internalize music, both mentally and physically. For beginners, repetition builds muscle memory. Muscle memory is writing your name, eating with a fork, typing an email and, yes, playing the violin. For more advanced students, repetition of small chunks of music leads to mastery of large works, often many pages long. And repetition remains the number one way to teach our muscles new tricks or, rather, "technique".
I see the power of repetition each day in my three-year-old son. He recently acquired his dad's childhood lego sets- the NASA models with hundreds of pieces. He is obsessed with putting them together (correctly, using the instruction manual). Of course, he can't do it by himself (in case you're wondering what I've been doing for the past month). He enlists a grown-up to read the manual and instruct him where to connect each piece, which he does do himself. Two hours later, the space shuttle Endeavor is complete and then.... he takes it apart. And we begin again. But here's the crazy thing: after assembling the whole thing four or five times, my three-year-old child is actually MEMORIZING the instruction manual. Yesterday, he completed the last twelve pages of steps without the book or me to help him. Today, he corrected several mistakes I misread between pages 20 and 22. He's three. The lego project is designed for ages 8 and up.
For professional musicians, repetition is truly the way to teach old dogs new tricks. My formal training as a violinist was in classical music, but I make half my living playing jazz, of which I have absolutely no formal training. I gig regularly with a guitarist named Dave. Dave is the band leader, which means he brings the book and calls the tunes. He puts the tunes in a certain order at the beginning of the season and we pretty much play them that way for the next six months. At first, I found this amusing like an endearing personality quirk. "Hey!" he says with enthusiasm at the start of every event, "Why don't we start with 'tis Wonderful'?". Like this is a new idea, like that tune was just randomly appeared at the start of the book. After that it's 'Autumn Leaves' (swing with a rubato intro for kicks), then 'Lucky Southern'. It's pretty much the same set every week. But here's the funny thing: after repeating these tunes each week for the past several months, we're starting to sound like a real band, not just some thrown-together trio sight reading through tunes for the benefit of inebriated wedding guests who really aren't aware that the background music is being produced by real live human beings. AND I'm starting to play those tunes like I know what I'm doing. So, on top of getting paid, I'm actually becoming a better musician. Go figure. This is great because, as I manifesto-ed in blog #1, I hate to practice. So did the late great Stephane Grappelli. But he gigged every single day, probably with someone like Dave.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Concert Class
Just wanted to share a couple photos from our last Concert Class. A "concert class" is a meeting of my students in which we prepare for performances and build camaraderie amongst our peers. We practice performing solos for one another (complete with a gracious bow) as well as rehearse ensemble pieces. Students also learn good audience skills like listening and encouraging the performer with applause and positive language. Most importantly, concert classes build a sense of team spirit. Learning an instrument can be a lonely endeavor as a student practices and attends private lessons by oneself. Concert classes allow students to share their experiences and performance anxieties with like-minded kids. They get to blend their sounds in group pieces, play funny musical games, and build friendships that help keep them going when facing the hurdles of learning a difficult instrument. By the time they get to the official recital, they know everyone and feel supported rather than judged.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Taal Mama: What's in a name?
The words in question are Taal Mama. Anyone want to guess what it means? It is important enough to be the name of a surprisingly popular song written and recorded by my band Gojogo. We titled the song ourselves, though the words are virtually nonsense. Realizing as much as I wrote this very blog, I decided to google "Taal Mama" to see if the words do have meaning, perhaps on a foreign level. Though I found nothing helpful in deciphering the song title, I was stunned to find website after website referencing Taal Mama by Gojogo. It's on Pandora, Yahoo, Itunes, AOL, Amazon, and on and on.
Granted I'm a little behind on internet marketing, but I am now a firm believer that it works! "Works" is not so much the correct description. "Spreads" is more accurate.
The little song Taal Mama spread all the way to Great Britain, where Window Payne Productions decided to feature it in their beautiful new documentary Calabash. It is, in fact, the music for the trailer!
Simplistic is form and melody, Taal Mama lends itself well to imagery. Window Payne productions is not the first to set pictures to this unpretentious little tune.
It was first seen in Thomas Campbell's gorgeous surf documentary Sprout. Gojogo performed the score live to Hedgehog in the Fog, a beloved Russian film by Yuri Norstein. Taal Mama was even used by a couple of local artists for their independent films, including my own cousin Ryan Zaharako.
It's funny to think that this little song that began as a two bar groove scratched on a piece of manuscript in my bedroom one night has reached so far beyond my compact cycle of write-perform-record. My bandmates in Gojogo made it accessible and beautiful, of course, but what made it popular? To me, this is one of those mysteries tangled in human perception and the internet.
Granted I'm a little behind on internet marketing, but I am now a firm believer that it works! "Works" is not so much the correct description. "Spreads" is more accurate.
The little song Taal Mama spread all the way to Great Britain, where Window Payne Productions decided to feature it in their beautiful new documentary Calabash. It is, in fact, the music for the trailer!
Simplistic is form and melody, Taal Mama lends itself well to imagery. Window Payne productions is not the first to set pictures to this unpretentious little tune.
It was first seen in Thomas Campbell's gorgeous surf documentary Sprout. Gojogo performed the score live to Hedgehog in the Fog, a beloved Russian film by Yuri Norstein. Taal Mama was even used by a couple of local artists for their independent films, including my own cousin Ryan Zaharako.
It's funny to think that this little song that began as a two bar groove scratched on a piece of manuscript in my bedroom one night has reached so far beyond my compact cycle of write-perform-record. My bandmates in Gojogo made it accessible and beautiful, of course, but what made it popular? To me, this is one of those mysteries tangled in human perception and the internet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)