They managed to drag me away from my harp for long enough to go to the family reunion for my Dad's side of the family. (You start worrying about your psychology when you freak out with excitement upon receiving your order of strings and new *exercise books* in the mail.) So, this weekend we're all up in Antioch, IL, which is a small town on the Wisconsin border. Antioch has that Great-Lakes-area no-worries feel to it. Relaxed. A little run-down. Nice to be out-doors.
This morning we made our way out of the house leisurely. Mom had me and Noah bring in the new rug that she brought home to try out in the living room. That is one really heavy roll of carpet! We moved all the furniture out of the way and then moved it back on top of the rug. It's a nice piece: black and gold, with geometric maze patterns in a grid. I bet we'll end up buying it. Little cousin Xander passed his approval by bouncing all over it and following the maze patterns with his finger.
My grandma, Aunt Audrey, and 5-year-old cousin Xander have been visiting us this week. They have been good house guests. I gave up my room so it could be a guest room, and I've been sleeping on the living-room floor, but that's been okay actually. Xander is really cute, and the most precocious small child I've visited this summer. He talks a mile a minute, but always with fully-formed, well-pronounced sentences, and he's been brought up to be very well-behaved. We took him for a hike on the bike trail and then into the woods the other night. I thought we would wear him out quickly, because he's so small, but he ended up all-out running full speed for an hour and half until it was dark and we were all muddy.
Anyway, after the rug, we all piled into two cars to drive to the family reunion. Noah drove the Saab, I rode with him in the front, and Aunt Audrey and Xander rode in the back so she could give him cereal and picture books if he got restless. He was amazingly quiet on the ride there. The rest of us got into a lively discussion about economics and ended up on the topic of Medieval-period power structures and the heirarchy of lords and vassals and kings, which was great because Aunt Audrey happens to be something of an expert on Medieval and Renaissance history. I learned a lot in just that hour that we had to talk in the car.
In the other car, Dad drove, April listened to music, Mom slept, and Grandma talked about various gossip items and bits of news. Our car was undoubtedly cooler.
Now we're here, and we had a high-energy evening with favorite cousins Brad and Scott, playing games of corn-hole, jumping on the trampoline, eating at Culvers, and being eaten by mosquitos. Favorite cousin Julie, we miss you!!!!
In other news, I bought a one-way ticket to Paris yesterday. My departure date is September 5th. :)
Friday, July 28, 2006
Saturday, July 22, 2006
j'ai oublié tout
If I do 11 pages, or about one chapter, of exercises a day from this book we have of French grammar review and practice, then I will get through the book in about a month, which is about how much time I have before I leave. Maybe then I will at least gain back whatever I had before and not make a fool of myself when I get there and try to start functioning in French, or at least not bomb the placement test at the Sorbonne. Keturah said I should watch French movies, and maybe I'll stop trying to drag myself through the translated version of Peter Pan and work on Le petit nicolas instead. Does anybody have any movie recommendations?? I'm serious about this now.
Friday, July 21, 2006
practice coach
Having my little 13-year-old cousin Linda here visiting this week has been a wonderful thing. She's such a charming little girl, so full of love and vitality that you wouldn't even think it possible. She talks a mile and minute, constantly wanting to know everything. And she's very generous, always willing to share, to spend quality time with you, to be interested in what matters to you. My aunt and uncle adopted her from Guatemala when she was four years old. Since then, she's had to overcome setbacks in her development, but she has such well-organized and realistic plans for how to achieve her dreams for the future that I am sure she will perservere and succeed on whatever she sets her mind to.
I've learned some surprising things from her during her time here.
The first day, having just gotten back from Michigan, I really wanted to spend time practicing my harp, especially to work on the new technique exercises I had been assigned. Linda so desperately wished to spend time with me, though, that when she proposed that she sit by me and listen I could hardly say no. The idea was for her to knit quietly while I practiced, but the poor thing could hardly contain all the words that come flowing through her mind, and there was much talking. Patiently, I decided I would direct her attentions more productively by having her "help" me practice. I told her, "For this exercise, I'm supposed to think about closing my thumbs without rolling my wrist over, but I also have to keep my elbow up, and I'm having trouble remembering to do both at once, so it would help if you would sit there and remind me to keep my elbow up."
To my surprise, she took to this task with all the concentration and dedication she had. She watched my elbow like a hawk, not letting it drop for a second. I decided that I might as well give her a couple other things to look out for about my technique, and on top of those, she thought of other things off the top of her head that I hadn't even told her. Before long, she was standing in front of me conducting along with the metronome, reminding me about my elbow, reminding me to relax, even coaxing me to smile (which I hadn't told her to do). Smiling is something that Ann has mentioned before, but not something that musicians generally think about a whole lot, but Linda was insistent that I look like I was enjoying every second of my playing or else people wouldn't want to watch me and I would just end up depressing them instead. This may have been a bit of an exaggeration, but I think she has a very valid point, and smiling helps you relax anyway! She would routinely make me put down the harp and come over and give me a massage or make me stand up and stretch--all of which is very good for you, none of which I told her to do, and all of which is stuff that I forget to think about when I'm focused on drilling something. Best of all, this correcting and coaching she did with nothing but love. It was not a gleeful exercise of the power I had given her to instruct me, but instead only positive reinforcement, and it made such a difference to my mind-set. I was really having fun.
It got so much better from there. When I moved on to practicing my piece--Danse des lutins--she hit the ground running, already on top of exactly how to go about practicing a piece. First, she reminded me to keep the big picture in mind. I was all set to focus in on drilling my left hand, but she had already figured out that music has character to it. Before I started, she had me play once through the section I was going to work on so that she would know what the character of it was. Then, as I practiced it, she would act out the parts of various little creatures running around and responding to the piece. Watching her act this out helped me to envision what my fingers themselves were acting out through the mischievous sixteenth notes of the piece. If I had to play a sF, she would jump in surprise. If I wasn't smiling enough for her, the creatures would get sad. Every so often, she would peek over my stand, her eyes twinkling, and remind me to relax. Instantly, my shoulders would let go. Then she would be right back to improvising, spinning tales, making up names for the creatures. In fact, she even named my metronome ("Mimi")! She dubbed me the "matriarch" (a word she recently learned in a book that we had been reading together) of all these creatures. They all looked up to me with love and admiration, and I had a great deal of power over their happiness and well-being. Sometimes they would creep right up to my ear and wisper how much I meant to them. My fingers danced lightly over the strings, and my imagination followed her right into the magical world she was creating. I used to have vivid imaginations like that all the time, and for a moment, some of that came back to me. What a gift!
It amazes me that a child with little musical experience, watching me practice in my living room, can automatically know so much about music. These are all things that I know, theoretically, are important--breathing, relaxing, smiling, taking breaks, taking time, telling a story with your music--but that are so easy to lose track of when concentrating on other things. Even if it felt like it was slowing me down to have to stop and do whatever breathing exercise she devised on the spot or if it felt like it was distracting me to have her acting out stories in front of me, it really wasn't at all. It may have actually been better for me than anything I could have done alone!
Thank you, Linda, for your fresh perspective, for your loving support, and your childlike creativity.
I've learned some surprising things from her during her time here.
The first day, having just gotten back from Michigan, I really wanted to spend time practicing my harp, especially to work on the new technique exercises I had been assigned. Linda so desperately wished to spend time with me, though, that when she proposed that she sit by me and listen I could hardly say no. The idea was for her to knit quietly while I practiced, but the poor thing could hardly contain all the words that come flowing through her mind, and there was much talking. Patiently, I decided I would direct her attentions more productively by having her "help" me practice. I told her, "For this exercise, I'm supposed to think about closing my thumbs without rolling my wrist over, but I also have to keep my elbow up, and I'm having trouble remembering to do both at once, so it would help if you would sit there and remind me to keep my elbow up."
To my surprise, she took to this task with all the concentration and dedication she had. She watched my elbow like a hawk, not letting it drop for a second. I decided that I might as well give her a couple other things to look out for about my technique, and on top of those, she thought of other things off the top of her head that I hadn't even told her. Before long, she was standing in front of me conducting along with the metronome, reminding me about my elbow, reminding me to relax, even coaxing me to smile (which I hadn't told her to do). Smiling is something that Ann has mentioned before, but not something that musicians generally think about a whole lot, but Linda was insistent that I look like I was enjoying every second of my playing or else people wouldn't want to watch me and I would just end up depressing them instead. This may have been a bit of an exaggeration, but I think she has a very valid point, and smiling helps you relax anyway! She would routinely make me put down the harp and come over and give me a massage or make me stand up and stretch--all of which is very good for you, none of which I told her to do, and all of which is stuff that I forget to think about when I'm focused on drilling something. Best of all, this correcting and coaching she did with nothing but love. It was not a gleeful exercise of the power I had given her to instruct me, but instead only positive reinforcement, and it made such a difference to my mind-set. I was really having fun.
It got so much better from there. When I moved on to practicing my piece--Danse des lutins--she hit the ground running, already on top of exactly how to go about practicing a piece. First, she reminded me to keep the big picture in mind. I was all set to focus in on drilling my left hand, but she had already figured out that music has character to it. Before I started, she had me play once through the section I was going to work on so that she would know what the character of it was. Then, as I practiced it, she would act out the parts of various little creatures running around and responding to the piece. Watching her act this out helped me to envision what my fingers themselves were acting out through the mischievous sixteenth notes of the piece. If I had to play a sF, she would jump in surprise. If I wasn't smiling enough for her, the creatures would get sad. Every so often, she would peek over my stand, her eyes twinkling, and remind me to relax. Instantly, my shoulders would let go. Then she would be right back to improvising, spinning tales, making up names for the creatures. In fact, she even named my metronome ("Mimi")! She dubbed me the "matriarch" (a word she recently learned in a book that we had been reading together) of all these creatures. They all looked up to me with love and admiration, and I had a great deal of power over their happiness and well-being. Sometimes they would creep right up to my ear and wisper how much I meant to them. My fingers danced lightly over the strings, and my imagination followed her right into the magical world she was creating. I used to have vivid imaginations like that all the time, and for a moment, some of that came back to me. What a gift!
It amazes me that a child with little musical experience, watching me practice in my living room, can automatically know so much about music. These are all things that I know, theoretically, are important--breathing, relaxing, smiling, taking breaks, taking time, telling a story with your music--but that are so easy to lose track of when concentrating on other things. Even if it felt like it was slowing me down to have to stop and do whatever breathing exercise she devised on the spot or if it felt like it was distracting me to have her acting out stories in front of me, it really wasn't at all. It may have actually been better for me than anything I could have done alone!
Thank you, Linda, for your fresh perspective, for your loving support, and your childlike creativity.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
traverse city and back
I'm sitting at work in my Grandpa's office at Delnor hospital in Geneva right now. If Karen were here, she could tell me how to do the mass of filing that's sitting all around me, but she's gone until 1:30, which is why I'm sitting here, babysitting the desk for her until she comes back. The phone's not ringing. All the payments are in order. The last patient is through. Nothing much is happening... but there's chocolate :)
This is pretty much the first thing I've done since driving back in late last night. When I drove into St. Charles, there was vicious lightening brightening the sky every half-second and by the time I pulled into my driveway it was raining hard. I sat in the car as my brother and my dad and then the rest of my family came out to greet me and try to get me out of the car. The thought of unloading the harp in the rain was depressing, and I didn't feel ready to be home yet. I'm high on the excitement of moving to France this fall. I rolled down my window a crack and told my brother, I don't want to come home!
But really, I do. It's nice here, and Linda is visiting. She's so charming. She's my little cousin, adopted from Guatemala some 10 years ago. She's about 13 now. This morning she woke up and had breakfast with me before I went to work. Last night she hung out in my room while I unpacked, exclaiming about how much she loves my room and how she would like to live there. She even has my stuffed animals named already.
Anyway, the main point is that I was just in Traverse City, Michigan for the last week. It is so beautiful up there. For anyone who hasn't been there before, find an excuse to go sometime. It is gorgeous. (I don't have photos because I'm a loser.)
Isabelle was teaching a harp workshop for the week, which was a great chance to get to start out studying with her before I go over to Paris in a couple months. I had four lessons while I was there and got to observe everybody else's lessons if I wanted to, which was almost just as valuable. I could go on and on about how much I love her teaching style and how nice she is as a person. Isabelle completely loses herself in her teaching, sitting right up next to you, singing solfege along with your playing, or acting or dancing along, beating on your leg for rhythm or grabbing your hand suddenly to make you dampen in a place you hadn't even realized the strings were still ringing. If you're doing something wrong, she'll demand to know why you thought it should be that way, correct you, and if you don't get it right when you try again, she'll stop you with a blunt "no" and wait patiently until you correct it. On the other hand, she puts no lid on her expressions of joy if you do get something right. In this way, making music becomes exciting and motivating.
In general, it feels good to be out of the unstable transition period between teachers. I'm finally under somebody's wing again. It was also really good to be around her to get to ask questions and hear advice about my move to France. In fact, I now know where I want to live. This is the apartment that the father of one of her students tracked down and recommended that I get:
http://www.paristay.com/paris-apartment-rental/55/Parc%20Monceau/75017/studio-rentals-in-paris-france.html
Isn't it pretty? Isn't it tiny? It's within a block of both the conservatory and the Sorbonne, where I am going to take a French class.
All the students in the class too were wonderfully nice people. We couldn't have had a more welcoming and pleasant group. One might laugh and say it was girly to the max, but sometimes I feel most comfortable with that. Everybody talked with sensitivity to other people's feelings, using please and thank you whenever they could, commenting on each other's oufits, always being positive and supportive about each other's playing. I guess I was more sensitive to that after having spent the weekend with Joe and Dan, where things often degrade into dirty, shocking kinds of humor. I can do that too, but the harp girls made everything feel clean and civilized by contrast. It was so fun! We worked hard--practicing hours and hours and then taking notes during our masterclasses--and goofed off hard too--driving around the bay, roasting hot dogs on the cook-out fire that we watched Marie burn all her homework on--and bonded so quickly--staying up till late talking to Syliva about her harp gigs all around the world, Ann Marie about her miraculous recovery from the car accident, Kathrine about all the advice I can think of for going in as a freshman to U of I...
I want to go back next year!!
This is pretty much the first thing I've done since driving back in late last night. When I drove into St. Charles, there was vicious lightening brightening the sky every half-second and by the time I pulled into my driveway it was raining hard. I sat in the car as my brother and my dad and then the rest of my family came out to greet me and try to get me out of the car. The thought of unloading the harp in the rain was depressing, and I didn't feel ready to be home yet. I'm high on the excitement of moving to France this fall. I rolled down my window a crack and told my brother, I don't want to come home!
But really, I do. It's nice here, and Linda is visiting. She's so charming. She's my little cousin, adopted from Guatemala some 10 years ago. She's about 13 now. This morning she woke up and had breakfast with me before I went to work. Last night she hung out in my room while I unpacked, exclaiming about how much she loves my room and how she would like to live there. She even has my stuffed animals named already.
Anyway, the main point is that I was just in Traverse City, Michigan for the last week. It is so beautiful up there. For anyone who hasn't been there before, find an excuse to go sometime. It is gorgeous. (I don't have photos because I'm a loser.)
Isabelle was teaching a harp workshop for the week, which was a great chance to get to start out studying with her before I go over to Paris in a couple months. I had four lessons while I was there and got to observe everybody else's lessons if I wanted to, which was almost just as valuable. I could go on and on about how much I love her teaching style and how nice she is as a person. Isabelle completely loses herself in her teaching, sitting right up next to you, singing solfege along with your playing, or acting or dancing along, beating on your leg for rhythm or grabbing your hand suddenly to make you dampen in a place you hadn't even realized the strings were still ringing. If you're doing something wrong, she'll demand to know why you thought it should be that way, correct you, and if you don't get it right when you try again, she'll stop you with a blunt "no" and wait patiently until you correct it. On the other hand, she puts no lid on her expressions of joy if you do get something right. In this way, making music becomes exciting and motivating.
In general, it feels good to be out of the unstable transition period between teachers. I'm finally under somebody's wing again. It was also really good to be around her to get to ask questions and hear advice about my move to France. In fact, I now know where I want to live. This is the apartment that the father of one of her students tracked down and recommended that I get:
http://www.paristay.com/paris-apartment-rental/55/Parc%20Monceau/75017/studio-rentals-in-paris-france.html
Isn't it pretty? Isn't it tiny? It's within a block of both the conservatory and the Sorbonne, where I am going to take a French class.
All the students in the class too were wonderfully nice people. We couldn't have had a more welcoming and pleasant group. One might laugh and say it was girly to the max, but sometimes I feel most comfortable with that. Everybody talked with sensitivity to other people's feelings, using please and thank you whenever they could, commenting on each other's oufits, always being positive and supportive about each other's playing. I guess I was more sensitive to that after having spent the weekend with Joe and Dan, where things often degrade into dirty, shocking kinds of humor.
I want to go back next year!!
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