Bully on Them

I'm a closeted Gleek.  I actually like Glee, but I keep it on the D.L.  I don't ever watch it on Tuesday nights, since we don't have TV, but I religiously catch up every weekend on our dodgy wireless connection at home.  And lately, Glee has had some really powerful events, most of which relate to the openly gay (slightly stereotypical) character, Kurt.  Say what you like about the character, that he has a penchant for flamboyance and sequins and such, but the last few episodes have been really powerful, since he is repeatedly being bullied by a member of the football team.  What with the news last month about bullying, especially towards the young lgbt community in America, I found this to be a really interesting plot line.  On one hand, Kurt's friend from another school tells him to be courageous and to stand up to his oppressor, only to have him yell back, and suddenly kiss him in a moderately traumatizing move.  Kurt learns that other schools, unlike his public Ohio school, have a zero tolerance bullying policy, whereas at his own school, nothing is really being done about it.  His glee friends struggle to defend him, and even Sue Sylvester temporarily kicks out the bully, only to have the school committee say that there is no proof that the bully threatened to kill Kurt.  The end result is that Kurt decides to leave schools, and go to this private school with the zero-tolerance policy.

It brings up many issues, both within our culture, and within high schools.  So many terrible things happen, in terms of bullying and peer relations, yet people rarely stand up for their friends or colleagues. The girls in glee tell their boyfriends to fight back and defend Kurt, which many of them start to do.  But why did they have to be asked?  Why couldn't people just see the situation and decide it wasn't fair?  It's just another reminder that people often turn a blind eye to other people's pain.  As someone who was unpopular and mostly melancholy during high school, I can absolutely see how the cycle continues.   My school had a zero-tolerance policy for violence and such, but so much can occur without actual contact.  Body language, facial expressions-they can tell so much as well.  I remember in second grade, standing up for the boy I carpooled with, who had some LD (learning disabilities) and this guy, Matthew, was making fun of him.  They were both older than me, and in a bold move, I threw all of Matthew's stuff into a rain-filled trashcan, ruining his books, backpack, and possibly his videogames.  Can't remember.  I  then remember telling my parents about it, expecting them to punish me, but they never did.  They could see the greater implications of the situation, and the fact that I had defended my friend (Ben) against a bully.  I only wish that I could have prevented other, more grave situations for people who have suffered more.  There have been countless times when I could have behaved better as a high schooler and middle schooler (although I was seriously bullied in 6th/7th grade, so it works both ways) and I'm glad that this issue has really come to the forefront of our educational movement.  I only hope that more kids will learn to defend their friends and classmates, and that schools and adults will take these acts seriously.

listening to: Prokofiev 5, in prep for December!

The Butter Pie Effect

Isn't it strange how one action can change the whole course of successive events in a profoundly short period of time?  For me, at least, that's what happened.  The irony in all of this, is that I know whose opening I will be occupying-it's Anne Aderman's, who in course took Mary-Kathryn's opening when she went to OSQ last October.  Anne got married in the fall, and has decided to move to be with her beau.  Strange?  Yes.  Very.

I in turn had a very nice chat with Roger about my skills and shortcomings as a player, and he was quite supportive, which I needed.  I feel utterly unqualified to be going down there, but I'm sure it'll be fine once I get over my initial terror.  I have been so fortunate to have teachers that really value me as a person and a player, and when prodded, will remind me that I don't suck.  I think that's why I will always love Carol more than almost any teacher I've had.  I felt that she was so quick to analyze me, but right in all ways, and that she could really see and appreciate the gifts I had to offer, while quickly realizing how shitty my bow arm was when I met her.  It's such an amazing feeling when your mentors and role models look at you in a way of respect and care, especially when you can't always do that for yourself.

On the more entertaining side of things, I'm playing in the next rotation of orchestra here at NEC, which means that the concert will be the evening before I fly to Miami for my first trip.  I will also be last stand, or second to last stand, which is pretty bloody hysterical to me.  I will also be playing all German repertoire.  Anyone else amused?  It does make my schedule a little insane, but I almost feel like I should suck it up, since there's a positive social aspect of playing in orchestra, and many of my friends are in this rotation, and I may not see them for a while.  (Did I also mention that I, hater of orchestra, and am actually applying to Tanglewood this year?  I never thought it would happen, but I just happened to fall in a crowd of 5-6 people at NEC that are my closest friends, who are all going back.  I never wanted to go earlier, because I didn't think I would survive that much orchestra.  But since I'm already going off the deep end, I think I'll be fine now.  Also, they have the contemporary players, and I always wanted to be one of those, and this could be a chance to be a Fromm player in the future.  I still might not like all of it, but it's certainly worth a shot.  Anyway, I can only take off 1 week in the spring for summer festival auditions, and TMC is one of the 3 auditions I can take. )

On the flip side, I did my "Where the Wild Things" outreach presentation for 4 preschool and Kindergarten classes this week (electric viola and improvised tunes) and played my piece for electric vla, percussion, and piano on Monday, to decent acclaim.  So I promise to keep it real, wherever I end up.  I don't want to lose sight of my other dreams-the rock/improv/contemporary ones, the baking/yoga/kids books ones.  I'm just going where the universe is telling me to go.  (The universe is also telling me that I'm very pale, and I'm very curious to see what skin tone I could actually become by May.  As a perpetually pasty girl, it will definitely be an adventure...)

Listening to: The Age of Adz by Sufjan.  Listen to it.  Buy it, stream it, live it.

Me? Really? In Miami?

Yes.  It's true.  I am moving to Miami, at least for the spring. Why? How?  Because I strangely, randomly, and bizarrely have been called by New World to finish off their season for them.  I, who was told that I played so poorly by the excerpt coach at Eastman.  I, who had so many truly dreadful orchestral experiences in my undergrad and at Eastman.  I, who haven't been to an orchestra festival since 2005.  I feel like a cheater!  I just played my first audition for them in March, played decently, but not amazingly, and I still haven't subbed with them normally, and now I'm invited for the rest of the year?  'Tis indeed quite strange, if I say so myself.

In many ways, it was an obvious decision.  Losing money/loans/rent vs. making money.  But on a larger scale, it is evaluating whether the work I'm doing here is so valuable as to forfeit this particular option.  The answer I came up with is no.  I haven't had time to practice enough, by my standards, and I feel like I'm not spending enough time practicing to really get my money's worth.  I'm playing in some great ensembles and some not-so-great ensembles, but neither is something that I couldn't get into if I came back next fall.  I have a lovely apartment with nice roommates, but we're all so independent that my rise and fall will be a fluid transition of a change of guard.  It's scary though-this whole moving/making adult decisions thing.  I'm not used to cool things like this happening, and I know that my parents are a little surprised at the turn of events.  My mom was worried that Roger and Kim would be angry at me for leaving, and I guess they don't really understand how professional engagements work.  You basically go wherever the spirit takes you and do what the universe instructs.  The cool thing, is that I haven't technically been offered a fellowship, because I'm currently enrolled.  I'm going as a full-time sub, which gives me a lot more flexibility after-I can choose to stay (re-audition anyway) or come back to Boston.  I'm frankly terrified at having made such a decision, but neither Roger nor Kim were too concerned, and that's a good thing.  They seemed totally fine with my decision, and the work I've been doing for Kim is not deeply personal.  (She's also going on sabbatical next semester, and she'll spend 6 weeks+ abroad).

There are definite consequences though-I've just reconnected with lots of old friends, and made some good new ones, and now I'm leaving.  I've finally made some good contemporary contacts and Boston, and once again, I'm leaving.  I'm doing my outreach fellowship concerts this week, and that's really picking up well-the whole electric viola/improv stuff is going very well!  I've finally settled into life here, and now I'm leaving.  But it serves me right in many ways.  I've known that I have flexibility in schedule  and finances that few other people have. I'm not getting married any time soon, I don't have tons and tons of loans, and I don't have any real regional ties.  I'm a free agent, and this is what the universe has thrown me.  I've chosen to catch, rather than watch it fly by, and for now, that seems like a good choice.

(As a side note, I notice that NWS has a few slightly silly questions on their website, all of which I have begun putting time into thinking about, even if I don't end up on the website.
Musical Heroes: David Bowie, Kim K., Karen Tuttle, John Lennon, (Sufjan!)
Recently Played: Grizzly Bear, Sufjan, Radiohead, Arcade Fire, Deerhunter
Favorite Piece of Music: Ooh...that's tough.  Avante-garde?  Or old fav like Daphnis?
Interests: improv, children's books, yoga, baking, shoes, loose-leaf tea.
If I were not a musician, I'd be: a merchanise seller for bands.)

Sufjan Success!

So I went to see Sufjan Stevens on Thursday, and I quite frankly didn't know what to expect.  Depressing banjo music or poppy dancers and sparkles?  Would there be autotune or a carefully selected 10 pitch range?  Music about cancer and depressing midwestern serial killers or songs about love?  Try all of the above.  As he said in the concert, "this is sort of like multiple personality disorder.  Hippy love songs here, autotune there, a little Gaga and a little tron.  But it's all me."  And wow, was it all over the place.  But those were neat and fabulous places nonetheless.  He opened with "Seven Swans" solo with banjo, and then suddenly, the rest of the band joined in with crazy costumes with glow in the dark tape, and they rocked out hardcore.  The rest of the show was mostly new tracks from "The Age of Adz." which I owned, and sort of liked, but by the end of the show, I was in love.  His performance was so convincing and so heartfelt that it made me understand and appreciate his music even more.  I realized that he's kind of a nut, but that everything in his songs comes from personal experience or some profound way of relating to others' experiences.  I've always been compelled by the personal element of his music-his songs tend to be a bit depressing, and his voice, I admit, a tad whiney, but often the underly beauty manifests itself in such a tragic way, as to reflect the great challenges of humanity.  (Besides, what other artist would end a 2 hour + set with John Wayne Gacy, from Illinoise?  Seriously?  As to say, we all have dark secrets inside...)  Enigmatic, mysterious, and don't forget dreamy!  (Google him if in doubt).  He autotuned, he danced, he wore wings, and it was amazing.  Besides, it was sort of funny since there were so many people there who clearly just wanted to hear some depressing banjo jams, and they were out of luck.  It was instead a huge combination of styles and processes, as to say "hey!  I can do more than just be sad.  I can be crazy and colorful and funny and deep and reflective and wear silver hazmats on stage and flashing lites like kanye."  Just like the rest of us.

A Different Value System

It's my yogic birthday, or at least it was last week, meaning that it's been three years since my first class with David Vendetti at Back Bay Yoga in Boston.  Lots of things have changed since then-I no longer crave hot yoga to prove that I've worked hard in yoga, my hamstrings and hips are more open, and my back craves yoga all of the time.  In the last three years, I've bruised my coccyx, thrown out my low back carrying a lounge chair, had a bike accident and subsequently messed up my right knee, and developed left hand tendonitis.  My yoga practice has shifted dramatically since that first class.

I remember being a yoga junkie, but more because I liked the pain, the hard work, the sweat- of a forrest class.  I knew even then, that vinyasa was a subtle art, of flexibility and strength, but I preferred what I knew best-strength.  Since then, I've lost and slowly regained the strength in my upper body, as well as learning to appreciate the slowness of a non-forrest class.  I remember, in that first year, wanting to feel the burn, the quest for strength and sweat.  Then, I moved to Rochester, in which the culture was an extreme opposite-of middle aged women and men trying to relieve pain and injuries.  I took Iyengar style class for part of my first year (boy was that slow and thoughtful-complete opposite of forrest) and then I took Anusura class until I developed tendonitis.  For me, anusura was a lovely fusion of vinyasa and conscientious anatomy-we still worked hard ( although we could've worked a teensy bit more sometimes!) and I learned to love the length, the elongation, the focus on how it feels, rather than how many fancy poses I could do.  I felt comfortable, welcome, and totally within my skills as a slightly injured person.  My teachers knew about my occasional aches and pains, and were committed to helping me find strength and success.  And then, I moved again.

I now am navigating the tricky path of not living particularly close to the studio I like, while also not having enough time to go often.  It definitely makes me pine for the boredom and temporal spaciousness of Eastman.  Partly out of curiosity, and partly because I missed the right bus to SoBoYo, I went to a class at Back Bay Yoga's newer studio space, which I believe is in the old lululemon space on Boylston. It's a beautiful studio, with lovely murals and detailing and all of that, but a definite contrast to South Boston's vibe and decor.  My class was ok-it was very wrist intensive, and I was reminded at how differently I practice now.  I understand the appeal of the heated room and all, but I practice so much slower now.  With my injuries, I practice more mindfully, at least for me.  I am careful in all of my backbends, careful not to hyperextend my joints in downdog, careful to pad my knees in deep lunges.  I watched as women in beautiful new lululemon tanks and shpants/shorts slingshotted through their backbends and sun salutations, gracefully, but not necessarily focused on anatomy. I, on the other hand, wore my old clothing with pride, and took my time in everything.  When instructed to do pushups, I declined and did dolphin pushups.  When everyone else did handstand jumps, I hung out in dolphin pose.  The teacher was very understanding-I think she trusted my judgment enough.  But I got a funny vibe from some of the people in the class, as though my slowness was a lack of fitness or energy.  Hardly-I had just come from acupuncture.

I treat yoga so differently now-as an opportunity to lengthen, to take a step back from music, and to consciously focus on the way that I'm using my body.  To breathe, to stretch, to extend, to rest.  I can go running if I need adrenaline-yoga is the place for space, not the place to do tons of sun salutations.  I don't have the nicest or newest yoga clothes, and I don't really care about it.  I can't do arm balances or hand stand, and I don't care.  Because yoga is something so different for me than what it is to others, and it's my time for me.  My limitations are frustrating, but a simple fact of life, and something to work with, rather than work against.  It's my me time, and no one can take that away from.  (Although I wouldn't mind a nice pair of running leggings from Lululemon, now that I think about it...)

Re-evaluating the circumstances

In a shocking turn of events, I've stopped hating orchestra, or at least, orchestra isn't the worst experience on earth, like it used to be.  After my illustriously tragic experiences at Eastman (Neil Varon?), I was totally and utterly put off by orchestra careers, and orchestra in general.  Between some challenging chairs, lazy people, and a cruel tyrant of a conductor, I was totally put off from doing anything orchestrally.  Before that, at NEC, experiences had been mixed at best, and never anything that I wanted to sign up for in a long term manner.  I basically didn't have any major positive ensemble experiences since high school, and my former enthusiasm for ensemble expired somewhere mid-undergrad.  I'm not really sure what happened exactly.  Somewhere down the line, I just stopped caring.  I didn't really think I had the patience for all the damn auditioning (I still don't think I do) and I didn't think I could have the same job for decades.  I was disheartened by the lack of enthusiasm that many orchestral musicians have for their work, and I was worried that I might lose my love of music.  These ideas still stand-I'm still not looking forward to auditioning, and I'm still not entirely excited by the moral and ethical situation of auditioning for jobs.  But, I don't hate orchestra right now.

Since I've moved back to Boston, I've finally worked with decent conductors, who are both artists and strong educators, and program a wide range of repertoire.  I've been playing with musicians who learn their parts and give it their all, if not all the time, then at least some of the time, which is a vast improvement from my previous orchestral experiences.  I've avoided orchestra for so long, because I've had such negative experiences, both with suspect repertoire,  (Scheherazade x 4?)  But I'm actually enjoying the ensemble experience, between working with good people, playing decent rep, and not doing too much Brahms.  (German romanticism is a separate issue-I still have a limited tolerance for that.)  I've also realized that while I love contemporary music most of all, I can still do that if I did an orchestral program of some sorts.  Tanglewood has a huge contemporary festival.  Spoleto is doing an opera by Sariaaho, which is super awesome.  If I only focus on contemporary stuff, I might limit my connections, my experiences, etc.  I haven't been able to audition for just anything since I've been stuck in the far north of the US, but now it's time to diversify.  Try different things.  Audition for something that's not-Canadian.

That doesn't mean I'll be taking the BSO audition anytime soon, or preparing for the multi-year professional audition track.  It just means that I'm shifting my priorities, expanding my options, and no longer hating on the orchestra experience.  last week, I saw the BSO play Adams' Dr. Atomic Symphonic and the "Miraculous Mandarin" by Bartok, and I was so dismayed to see so many members of the orchestra totally unenthusiastic about the music, miscounting, or just phoning it in.  What makes these musicians believe that contemporary music is something to half-ass?  Or that Bartok simply isn't fun?  I can still prefer a certain kind of music at the end of the day, but do a good job playing multiple kinds of music.  I've never thought about making the system work for me, or for creating opportunities for myself.  If I was in an orchestra, I could create a contemporary ensemble in the group, or write my own outreach scripts doing crazy stuff, or do a combination of the things I love.  Orchestra doesn't have to be a prison sentence, and I might actually enjoy it sometimes.  So I'm making a first step and applying for some orchestral festivals.  That's all I can handle now, especially after October, in which I was in three orchestral cycles simultaneously.

*On the bright side, I'm playing with a kirtan singer tomorrow night, and I'm working on a contemporary piece for viola, percussion, and piano for Steve Drury.  (So orchestra is good, but I can still do all the things I like too.  It just means that my room is a bit untidy.)