This afternoon was the last day of the Christmas holidays, unexpectedly sunny, crisp and breezy. After the departure of some visitors, Robert and I were about to go out for a walk and some tea and cake, when he suddenly pointed to a patch of light on the wall behind me. The reflections from the garden of waving branches and the wrought iron of a clothes post were casting flickering shadows onto the wall in an astonishing fashion, almost like a silent movie. Robert grabbed his iPhone and captured some video. “You could use that for a poem-film, “ I remarked, thinking about the beautiful short videos some friends had made recently.

When we got home from our walk, I began improvising to the footage on the piano, while Robert listened and wrote.  Within twenty minutes we both had something. Remarkably, when Robert read his poem aloud, it was exactly the right length. He recorded it, synchronized it with the video, and then I recorded my part on top onto a different track so that we could experiment with individual volume and colour.

I’m not a recording engineer, but I know what works when I hear it. In this case, I knew we needed to take the ‘edge’ off the sound on both tracks. It took a little whole to find the right effect for the piano part. It wasn’t until Robert added a little reverb that it harmonized with the imagery. It sounded as if it had been recorded many years ago in a dusty, cavernous ballet studio on a slightly tinny upright. Perfect.

We both could hear that Robert’s voice was also cutting through the texture in a way that sounded too immediate, modern and dynamic. When he equalized it, using an effect called RCA Victor 1947, it all came together.

Result: a film-poem in one evening. If only making art could be this easy and graceful every time.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=LpROaNue9GM

Here are some of my questions: How did Hembrey give himself the permission to do something so audacious? How did he come up with so much high-quality work in different media and styles? Are the two related? How many voices are inside us waiting to speak, if we would only give them permission? How much have I unintentionally restricted myself in searching for my own “voice”? What would happen if I let myself expression 100 different ways? Would it be exhausting? Would I explode with energy? Would I even recognize myself by the end of the process?

And  you?

I just blogged about one of my passions– traditional Christmas carols–over at Music Teachers’ Helper , complete with audio excerpts of the best recordings. Enjoy!

However, I’d love to point you to a couple of posts I wrote for the Music Teachers blog: one on how to develop effective communication with your students, and one on how to manage your energy in relation to your students. I’m enjoying focusing on the psychological side of teaching and communicating in posts for this particular blog, as I feel it’s a way to contribute what I know, both from study and from experience.

My new blog post over at Music Teachers Blog is about boosting your creative energy. It’s primarily aimed at musicians, but there are some ideas anyone with a creative bent can enjoy too. I’d love to hear your ideas…

Sounds fun, huh? The plot is the usual: boy meets girl, boy and girl go through many trials and tribulations, boy and girl end up getting married. With one major difference. When Deb and Chris walk down the aisle at the end of the musical, they will in fact be legally married. That beautiful singer who played the minister? She’s the real deal.

Deb and Chris are hosting a blog on their journey towards marriage in the run-up to this wild extravaganza, and this week, on the sixth anniversary of our marriage, they asked me to write a guest entry about what marriage means to me.

I’ve been enjoying this blog for nearly a year already, as I find great value in being able to exchange ideas with other independent music teachers. It’s very easy to feel isolated, and it’s been interesting finding out how many of us have the same challenges and pleasures, as well as having the opportunity to benefit from new ideas and resources.

I’m going to be contributing ideas from the point of view of a life coach who is also a longtime performer and teacher, and I’m excited to have the opportunity to try out my ideas. Here’s a link to my first post.

Vaslav Nijinsky

Last week, I saw an amazing article in the New York Times, describing the creative relationship between an experienced and adventurous choreographer and a young and talented actor with cerebral palsy. Tamar Rogoff, the choreographer, saw the actor, Gregg Mozgala, in a Shakespeare play and immediately knew that she wanted to work with him to create a dance piece. He, understandably, with muscular and neurological challenges, particularly in his legs, had not considered himself a dancer until this point, but was intrigued by her offer and agreed to the challenge.

The miraculous part of this experiment has been the changes they have wrought together in Gregg’s body- more dramatic changes in eight months than he had achieved in twelve years of physical therapy. For example, after walking on his toes his entire life, his heels now touch the ground, allowing him to walk normally. He is now aware of, and using, parts of his body that he had no relationship with before. And, most wonderfully, he is becoming a dancer, creating a piece called “Diagnosis of a Faun”. The first performance takes place on Dec. 3 at La MaMa Annex in the East Village, New York City.

I wrote to Gregg to congratulate him on this incredible achievement, and to ask whether he considered the creation of art to be part of the healing process, to which he replied emphatically, “Yes.” And this “yes” makes me curious about my own healing process. What if I could heal some of the old patterns of tension, contraction and pain, which prevent me from leading an active life and playing my beloved piano? What if I could do this through movement, through a creative process, so that rather than just repeating a series of mindless physical exercises, each movement had a purpose I believed in? It’s an intoxicating idea, one that speaks to me on a deep level. My next step is to contact the choreographer. Wish me luck!

Composition VII by Wassily Kandinsky

I’m pleased to announce that the article I wrote for American Music Teacher magazine, originally published in the winter of 2007, is now available on line here . It’s specifically targeted at music teachers who would like to venture into the world of creative improvisation and don’t know where to begin, but would also be useful for anyone who is feeling the urge to create their own music and knows a bit of basic theory.

For me, the key to learning how to improvise was allowing myself to approach the piano playfully, as a small child would, and not to weigh myself down with admonitions or expectations. In other words, to be free to create!

One of the subjects she dealt with that struck me with great force was the difference between pain and suffering. The interpretation she chose to differentiate between those words was powerful. She described pain as being for example, an unwelcome event, an injury, a disappointment, and so on. And suffering is what we then do inside ourselves in response to that event.

For example, say we have an audition for a part in an opera that we really want. If we don’t get the part, the moment of finding that out may cause pain. Intense, unwelcome pain. But if the moment after that we start to say, “Why didn’t I get the part? Did they like that other soprano/tenor/baritone better? Maybe I’m not as good as I thought I was. Maybe I’m never going to get a part. I should have practiced harder. Maybe I should be with a different teacher. If only the accompanist hadn’t played that wrong chord just before my entry. That really put me off! Maybe it was what I was wearing. Maybe I’m too old/overweight/the wrong color/ethnicity/sexuality…”, this is where the suffering can begin. And it has the potential to persevere for a loooong time.

Of course it’s understandable that one might experience thoughts like these. And then the emotions have a tendency to follow those thoughts. It’s tempting to immediately blame oneself or others. However, when we begin to become aware of thought patterns like these, then we have a better chance of taking a different road.

What other roads are there? It can certainly seem strange initially to begin to explore other options.

“You mean I’m not supposed to mind or be upset? Am I supposed to be made of steel? Give me a break! Anyone would be upset!”

Well, it’s your choice. But here are some other options.

The Nurturing Option
“I’m feeling extremely disappointed. I really wanted that job. Well, I think I’ll take some time out to be gentle with myself for the rest of the day. I’ll ask myself what would feel nurturing. Hmm… a warm bath… a great book… a funny video…. a good chat on the phone with X.”
(N.B. Beware of wanting to numb out– sudden longings for large amounts of alcohol/chocolate cake/TV/shopping may block out the painful feelings temporarily, but they’ll just come back in the morning.)

The Observational Learning Option
“Well, I don’t understand why I didn’t get the job. Hmmm…I think it’s worth looking at what I did to prepare… maybe get some feedback from the panel/accompanist. You know, if I’m honest, I didn’t really know that aria as well as I thought. And actually it’s difficult for the pianist to sight read, so maybe I’ll take my regular accompanist along next time.”

The Underlying Intent Observation
“You know , it makes me wonder why I’m actually doing this? What’s my intention? Well, I want to be successful. Why? So people will like me? What’s the experience I’m actually looking for? Hmmm… self-expression. Well, how else could I find opportunities to express myself? Oh, there’s that dance class/stand-up comedy class/street festival/jam session I was thinking about doing…
(Yes, I know that opera is the thing that you love most, but you might be freer in the next audition if you are feeling creatively fresh and juiced up!).

In my experience, there is a good chance that if you try one or more of these options, your pain may still be there, but hopefully your suffering will decrease. It may take great perseverance, as our habitual reactions can be hard to eradicate, but change is certainly possible. Bon courage!