Il Divo

is basically the worst thing I've ever heard in my entire life.

I just threw up a little bit in my mouth.

Back to basics

Tonight is a big night. I'll be performing in my first orchestra concert in almost a year! Reflecting on that fact really takes my breath away. Until about a year ago, it wasn't uncommon for me to play 3-5 performances of some kind each week. These days, a red-letter week involves me even picking up the flute that many times. No wonder I've been feeling so disconnected from myself! This week has been busier than hell, but also really thrilling. As I wrote about yesterday, Wednesday's concert really put me in a good place. Monday night, at our rehearsal for tonight's concert, it was an absolute pleasure to sit and count my rests and just absorb the rehearsal atmosphere.

I'm not going to lie to you, I'm actually pretty nervous for tonight. My sound is simply not what it should be at the moment, and I'm a little bummed about that. But I'm also a realist, and I know that the best possible way to recover from my slump in practicing is to perform. Performing really is the lifeblood of my personality. Tonight will be the first time I've donned my all-black concert attire in quite a while, and I'm actually looking forward to it! I'm trying to remember how much I really love the pre-concert adrenaline that some call nerves and I call excitement. I really can't wait to get out on stage and do what I love most in the world.

On a slightly different note, however, tonight will be the third time this week that I've driven to Berkeley straight from work and stayed until nearly 11pm. And boy, is that overrated!

But back to good stuff. Going to rehearsals and concerts this week is making me think seriously about starting some type of regular performing opportunity. I mean, obviously I'm taking professional auditions, but there's no substitute for getting out on stage. I'm thinking of maybe forming some kind of chamber ensemble locally. The problem is that I'm not sure how many of my fellow "young professionals" would be willing to perform for free, at least initially. Things to think about...

At any rate, that's what I have buzzing around in my head today. Updates tonight, I'm sure.

Yefim Bronfman

I'm about to get all music-nerd on you. Prepare yourself.

I just got home from a recital with Yefim Bronfman, Gil Shaham, and Lynn Harrell. I've told several people this already tonight, but my soul feels good. I have seen all three of these gentlemen (yes, Lynn Harrell is a man) play many times, and I always feel a kinship with performers I've followed for a while. Add to that the fact that I've played in an orchestra accompanying each of them, and perhaps you can understand. It would be like admiring your favorite band for years, suddenly meeting them, and then seeing them again in concert after a long hiatus.

Lynn Harrell and Gil Shaham are both incredible, there's no questioning this. But the reason I spent thirty bucks on the ticket is definitely Fima Bronfman. Bronfman is my favorite pianist. As a disclaimer, I should state for the record that I don't know all that much about pianists. I know what I like and what I don't like, but I can't give you specifics. At any rate, this is a man who knows how to work a piano. The first time I heard him play was my first summer at the Aspen Music Festival. I was playing in the orchestra, and he performed Beethoven's Emperor Concerto with us. I've heard this concerto a zillion times in my life, but never the way he played it. I still literally get shivers up my spine when I recall the way he played the main motive of the first movement. The only comparison I can think to draw is this:

Do you remember how it felt the moment you realized you were in love for the first time? Do you remember how it felt on your skin when that person touched you? Bronfman touches the piano as if it is his first love, as if it is the most beautiful woman in the world. When he touches the piano, it sighs, almost involuntarily. Sure, this is a big man, and when he wants to he can make the piano sing, laugh, cry, or scream. But my favorite moments are the sighs. I can feel his playing in my whole body. His playing feels like falling in love. Frankly, he is not what I'd consider a physically attractive man. But whenever I hear him, I fall in love with him, just a little bit.

Concerts like tonight give me hope. I feel more serene tonight than in a long time. I can't wait to lie in bed and replay the entire two-hour concert in my head, attempting to store it there for the rest of my life. I wish I could hear it again, just so I could digest it a little more fully. I wish I could just follow Fima Bronfman around a turn his pages for a living.

Alrighty, music nerd time is over for one evening. Goodnight, one and all. I'll be dreaming that I'm a piano.

Things I love

I feel like I've been kind of a downer for the past few posts. Not that I've had a bad few days (they've been fantastic, truth be told), I just haven't said anything without the somewhat unfamiliar tinge of sarcasm. Chalk it up to tiredness and me feeling a little bit like "Billy Badass." In light of that, however, I am taking a moment to rhapsodize on the first 25 things that pop into my head that I absolutely, without question ADORE.

1. When I'm in good playing shape and in performance, when everything seems to work and I lose the world around me.
2. Perfect kisses.
3. The first burst of sunshine after days of gray.
4. Fires in the fireplace.
5. Laughing so hard that my stomach hurts for a solid hour afterwards.
6. The feeling of pride after baking a cake from scratch.
7. Waking up with the warmth of a cat on my feet.
8. Tangible people-smells. I'm not talking gross smells here, folks. I just mean distinct scents that people have, the kinds that will always remind me of someone particular.
9. The feeling I get when someone tells me I made their day be being nice to them.
10. Soft T-shirts. Sweet jebus, I can't get enough!
11. And cheese. Any kind of cheese, in any circumstance.
12. The dream of my own home.
13. Really, really cold chocolate ice cream. None of this halfway melting shit. I want to have to chew it!
14. Seeing my friends become parents. It's scary and astonishing and beautiful, all at the same time.
15. Feeling inspired by people I love. How is it that you are all doing such amazing things with your lives? I feel so far behind, but I'm so proud to know you!
16. Lavendar.
17. Mmmmm, backrubs. Sigh.
18. Mix CDs are definitely one of my favorite things in the whole world. Don't be fooled by the fact that they are number 18. I love love LOVE them.
19. Lying underneath the Christmas tree and staring up at the lights when the room is dark. I don't think I'll ever get tired of this.
20. Fantasia on a Theme by Thomas Tallis, by Ralph Vaughn Williams.
21. Great big bear hugs, the kind that wrap you up and make you feel like you're protected from everything bad in the world.
22. Memories of my high school UU youth group. I don't think I've ever felt that safe.
23. Spaghetti. I swear, I've eaten spaghetti at least once a week for my entire life, and I NEVER get sick of it.
24. Fresh flowers in my apartment. I miss having a garden at home, and flowers make me feel like I'll have a garden again someday.
25. The message that my Grandmom and Granddad left on our answering machine this weekend. I will save it forever. It's just the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.

If I were in that place

I seem to be surrounded by people planning their lives with The One. I am thrilled for all of you in that position, and I offer you my most heartfelt congratulations. Recently, someone asked me what I was looking for in a relationship. My answer, that I merely want to enjoy being a girl again, surprised even myself. I am, admittedly, not in any kind of place right now where I'm looking to "fall in love." Not that I'd be opposed to being swept off my feet, but I don't currently feel that anxiety over whether or not I'll meet The One. It's odd to realize that about myself. I've been a hopeless romantic since I was a kid. I've read all the Jane Austen novels about 20 times apiece. But right now I am content to enjoy the company of a new friend, and to observe the world as a whole soul, rather than half of a unit. The notion of a soul mate appeals to me only in the way that trading lives with a celebrity appeals; Sure, there's a degree of novelty there, but nothing I'm pining after. Perhaps the nonstop drama of the past year-plus has gotten to me, but I'm suddenly feeling like there's a calm approaching, and I long for it. While many of my peers seem to be opening the chapter of creating a home and a family, I am content to cease the seemingly endless transition that hit me shortly after my 24th birthday.

That being said, have you heard Sting's new version of Fields of Gold? Because seriously, even in my less-than-romantic state of mind, that song could knock me back on my Jane Austen ass.

Yeah, that's all I have to say tonight. Deep thoughts.

Top Ten

For some unknown reason, I have recently been contemplating what I would do if I could only own ten albums. (Apparently all my real problems have ceased to exist.) I can only assume that this is on my mind because approximately one year ago I was driving alone across the country on my way to San Francisco. So, as far as today is concerned, here is the definitive October 2006 edition of "Ten Albums I Can't Live Without."

1. El Corazon, Steve Earle - I don't know why I love this CD so much. I just do.
2. OK Computer, Radiohead - The first CD I bought in college.
3. Afterglow, Sarah McLachlan - Shoot me, I'm a girl. I've been to Lilith Fair, and I love this woman's voice.
4. The complete Bach Flute Sonatas, Michala Petri and Keith Jarrett - I'm a music nerd, and this is the absolute best Bach out there.
5. Jagged Little Pill, Acoustic, Alanis Morrisette - This still makes me feel like I'm sixteen years old. I don't know why that's a good thing, because I hated being sixteen. I guess I just mean it reminds me what it was like to be full of possibility.
6. Hush, Bobby McFerrin and Yo Yo Ma. If you have not heard this, get thee to the library... or amazon.com.
7. World Without Tears, Lucinda Williams. So raw and wonderful.
8. Grace, Jeff Buckley. Dude, how can this not be on your list???
9. Fox Confessor Brings the Flood, Neko Case. When did I realize that I really do like "country" music? When I met Neko Case.
10. My box-set of Beethoven symphonies, the Berlin Philharmonic and Claudio Abbado. You aren't required to agree with me, but if you happen to be looking for an amazing recording of these, try these. And I know, technically it's a five-disc set, but whatever...

So I'll probably realize tomorrow that there's something major I left off the list. And I'm sure I'll be embarrassed in one week that at least one of these was included. If you have a moment, I'd love to hear your lists. Imagine yourself in the car for six days and you only have ten albums. What would you choose?

Practice time

After taking the summer off from serious practice, I'm in the throes of "remembering how to play the flute." It's insanely frustrating to start playing again after a significant break, knowing how you're SUPPOSED to sound and being completely incapable of recreating what is normal. At the risk of making an inappropriate comparison, I think it's like a mild version of learning how to walk again after a catastrophic accident. Most of you probably think I'm nuts to say that. I simply mean that, for those of us who play for many hours a day, our body is completely tied to our musicianship. And our musicianship is at the very core of who we are, to our sense of value. Is this a healthy mindset? Not at all, but it is a basic reality of being any kind of "artist."

Despite that rather depressing description of my recent practice time, I am writing from a place of inspiration and motivation. The Ballet, where I work, has given me a practice space! I think that this is primarily due to the fact that I was coming in early and practicing in my office and very possibly irritating the living hell out of everyone. Regardless of their reasoning, they have given me the most awesome practice space of my life. I have a key to the archive room, meaning that I'm practicing in a room in the attic full of dusty boxes. The upside is that there are windows on both sides of this room. Windows that look down into the rehearsal studios.

Today, while practicing my scales, I stood to the side of one window, studying the reflections of the dancers in their full-wall mirror. These are seriously some of the finest ballet dancers in the world. These people have been studying their craft as long as I've been studying mine. Granted, many of them have reached the highest levels of artistry, while I am only beginning to understand who I am in my discipline. I feel honored to be able to "spy" on them. Watching their joy of rehearsing and the discipline they exhibit day after day keeps me walking up to the attic, plugging away to recover what I've been neglecting.

Confession time

I am about to say something shocking. Prepare yourself.

I don't think I like opera.

I mean, I'm trying really hard to like opera. I feel like I should LOVE opera, being a classical musician. And don't get me wrong, there are certain operas that I have absolutely adored. A lot of the time, though, I just get bored. Seriously, I could be shot on sight for this, and would be if a lot of my teachers/friends found out. The thing is, I love beautiful singing. I love the costumes, I love the orchestra, I love the idea of a fantasy world where everything can be expressed through song. Selfishly, I love an excuse to dress to the nines and go out for the evening. I just don't understand why opera directors seem to believe that "opera humor" has to be slapstick to the point of stupidity. I don't enjoy jokes about opera within an opera. I seriously dislike the way many directors seem to be toeing the line between innocent-looking physical comedy and more "adult" humor, while succeeding at neither.

Maybe I'll change my mind as I age. Not loving opera makes me feel a bit like an imposter in the world of music. For now, I'll stick to the Symphony and the Ballet.

Like A ДЕВА

My day generally begins one of two ways: Either 1) my alarm blares at me, causing me to groan, roll over, and cover my head with a pillow, or 2) Puck begins biting my big toe, causing me to leap, screaming, from my bed. Today, however, my neighbors provided the most amusing wake-up call I've had in quite some time.

I awoke at 7:30 a.m. to Madonna's "Like a Virgin" being played louder than I have ever heard it in my life.

I should add that my neighbors are in their 80s and speak only Russian.

The scariest thing of my life

Meet my dad:


He's a college marching band director. Now, meet his Mini-me:



His students had a bobble-head made of him as a fundraiser. Seriously, this might be the creepiest thing I've ever seen. At the same time, however, I'm feeling a need to acquire one for myself. Really, how many of us know someone who is a bobble-head?

One more photo, just for good measure.



P.S. - If, for some unknown reason, you also feel the irresistable pull to own one of these fine pieces of history, click the link.

Amadou et Mariam

Today Amadou & Mariam performed at Stern Grove. I tried to link the words "Amadou & Mariam" and "Stern Grove" so you could see what the heck I'm talking about, but to no avail. Alas, thwarted again by technology.*

There is something about African drumming that gets to people. All people. Standing on the side of the stage, I had the unique perspective of looking out at 12,000 people going completely crazy. There were the children who had stripped down to their underwear and were flailing around as though they were possessed. High school kids stood awkwardly in groups, bobbing their heads and trying too hard to look cool. Two old ladies in straw hats and cardigans swayed back and forth, waving their arms and clapping on the wrong beat. Staring out into that gyrating mass was incredibly powerful. Having spent two years in a West African dance company, I completely understand the call of the drums. It somehow gets inside you, replacing your heartbeat with this indeniable mass of sound. It is impossible to not get caught up in the pulse, impossible to prevent your body from responding.

As I watched, however, the thing that moved me most was the presence of Amadou and Mariam. Amadou and Mariam are a married couple from Mali. They were both born blind. They speak only French. They would shout out commands to an audience that couldn't understand them, and who they could not see, and yet it was as if everyone was linked somewhere in the deepest parts of their souls. It was the kind of feeling you have where there's a tightness from your heart to your stomach, a feeling that is as emotional as it is physical. Hearing my San Francisco peers screaming out these intensely primal French words is something I can never describe to you, no matter how many words I use. Instead, here are the pictures.






*Thanks to Malia, this is no longer an issue. Until next time. ;-)

Weddings are in season

For many people, June 1 marks the beginning of summer, the time to dust off the bikini and head to the beach. As a young-ish professional musician, my June 1 landmark is a little bit different: the official start of Wedding Season. Every weekend I pull out my flute, zip up my trusty black trousers, strap on my high heels, and head off to another wild and crazy day of "gigging." Whenever non-musicians (primarily of the female species) discover that this is how I make my summer living, the response goes something like this:

Friend: You mean, you get to go to a wedding every weekend?

Me: Yeah, sometimes two or three.

Friend: Wow, that must be so much fun!

Me: Oh, it's cool. But I never know anyone in these weddings. I'm just the hired help.

Friend: But you get to see all the weddings! I'd love to see that many weddings! Weddings are the greatest! Blah blah weddings. Weddings blah blah blah. Blah blah weddings blah blah.

Don't get me wrong. Playing for weddings is a pretty sweet job. I get paid a fairly impressive sum of money for very little time. But it does has its disadvantages. The most notable of these? The BRIDE. Brides are a funny thing. You take a sane, intelligent, pleasant woman, put a diamond on her finger, and schedule an event she's been waiting for her whole life, and she instantly becomes the Creature From the Black Lagoon with a tinge of Crazy added. Some of these ladies want the strangest things. For instance, the bride of Today's Wedding requested that her prelude music include our flute, vioiln, and cello trio playing "I'm So Excited." Which would have been awesome and kind of hilarious. Except that it required me to locate, and PURCHASE, the sheet music for "I'm So Excited." Which I would then own. Forever.

Other odd requests include one from a bride who was getting married under this really old, amazing tree. She wanted us to play the background music while sitting. In. The. Tree. Need I say more?