Moondance question

Fellow Harpist:

Dear Miss Metheney,

I recently bought your cd "Notes On The Moon". It is truly lovely!

I was a harp student myself, and just graduated from a musician academy in Belgium. I graduated playing Deborah Henson's "New Blues". However, this has been my only experience with jazz/blues on the harp so far.

I would love it if you could give me some inspiration or information, such as where to find the sheet music for your arrangement on "Moondance" from Van Morrison.

Many thanks for considering my request.

Megan's reply:

Thank you very much for your email! 

I love "New Blues," too. Deborah Henson is great! Maybe you would like Baroque Flamenco and Nataliana by her, too.

Yes, its difficult to get started with jazz, and there aren't a lot of options for finding arrangements. My best advice would be to download a piano version of a jazz/blues song you like, then adapt it for the harp with fingerings, pedals, different chords or arpeggios, etc to make it more "harp-y." That's what I did for Moondance. I bought a skeleton version of it from musicnotes.com or sheetmusicplus.com and learned it, then threw away things I didn't like and added notes that sounded good to me. In learning and playing and experimenting, I would make mistakes and play notes that weren't on the page. The beautiful thing about mistakes is that sometimes they sound really cool! So if I accidentally played something "wrong" that actually sounded cool, I would try to remember it for the next time. Little by little, you will have your very own arrangement of a song you love. 

If you read chord symbols, there is a whole other world out there for you. A lead sheet is what jazz musicians use to play from and improvise. There is a written melody, usually for the right hand, and above that, there are chord symbols like C (do major) or am (La minor). If you can read the chord symbol, and know that in a C chord, there is a C, E, and G (do, mi, sol), you could play those three notes somewhere in the left hand. So the place to start would be to google image search or purchase the lead sheet of a song you like, then learn the chord symbols, and then have fun making your own arrangement. 

I hope this helps get you started!! 

Kind regards,

Megan

The Egan

Two weeks to go now before the big week in the studio! 

I’ve decided to record the entire program on my Celtic harp- a Salvi Egan. Going out on a limb. In the harp world, you’re unfortunately categorized as a pedal harpist or a Celtic harpist. It’s especially disapproving to “go back” to the Celtic harp after “becoming” a Classical harpist. Like you’re backtracking. 

But I’ve got to say: I love the sound of the Celtic harp. Or at least mine! :-) The Salvi Egan. It has a clear, light sound with a rich bass. Choosing to play this harp is also, in a way, a statement from my end concerning the program: so much of the music of Bernard Andres is accessible on the Celtic harp and Classical harp alike. 

And so it will be: this album will be recorded on a Celtic harp. 

I realized while I was changing strings that when the idea for this recording project was born, I was working at the Sylvia Woods Harp Center where I was enveloped in harps of all kinds. I remember thinking that if I could adopt any harp from the floor, I would take the Egan. It was years later that I took mine home. And in a couple weeks, it will have all meant to be. 

Excited. Nervous. Thankful. 

Bernard's Christmas

An independent solo harp Christmas album infused with the works of Bernard Andrès, legendary French harp composer...

I've been playing the harp for twenty short years now. It wasn't long into my harp lessons that I was exposed to the works of Bernard Andrès.  Today, I own 36 of his publishings, but my collection is not complete.

I started avidly collecting his works 10 years ago, about when the birth of this project began.  I was experimenting with my way through some of his pieces during Christmastime in my apartment in Los Angeles. As a gift to my family, I had planned to make a little Christmas album of solo harp. One thing led to another, and an improvised album of Christmas music combined with selections of Bernard Andrès was made. 

Bernard Andrès is my favorite composer for the harp. His music is simple, thoughtful, and idiomatic. Oh- and AMAZING! He was born in France in 1941 and lives hours away from my home. I've tried to meet him personally a few times, but have only succeeded by snail mail correspondence. All photos I've seen of him are smiley and warm. My harp students can tell you: I'm a fan. They are each subjected to learn at least one of his pieces at some point. There was even an Andrès piece played at my wedding. So: fan. 

I pull up the album every December. It's one of the few recordings of mine that I actually enjoy listening to. :-) "Wouldn't it be fun to actually revisit this album and record it in a studio?" I've thought to myself for the past 10 years. 

And it finally came time. I mustered up the courage to write to Mr. Andrès and sent him the little home recording, asking him if he would be up for letting me re-do it "for real." And... yes! He said yes!

So the plan is to re-record the album professionally in November and release the new album in time for Christmas 2014. I'm so excited about this project! It's a tribute to Mr. Andrès,  a celebration of Christmas music that I love (no Jingle Bells, sorry), and feels very "me." 

There are many people that come to mind when I'm practicing and preparing to record this program... I think of my aunts that I don’t get to see enough of and them decorating their Christmas tree. I would love for this music to be with them on Christmas eve. I think of my sister and our Christmas album days growing up. We had a few different records that we would throw on and dance around the house to... in bright green socks. I think about those socks. For me, music plays a crucial part in Christmas celebration.

I also think about the baby girl in my belly. She’s getting to hear a LOT of Christmas music and Mr. Andrès’ music... I wonder if these pieces will be imprinted into her conscience.

I think about the words to the Christmas carols and what they mean to me. 

I envision people baking serious holiday cookies to this album. I envision someone listening to this when they might be alone on Christmas eve. Or perhaps two parents throwing this music on while playing Santa Claus.

And, of course, I think of Bernard Andrès and his creative genius. 

Here is the tentative track listing (only the Christmas piece is listed):

The Holly and the Ivy

Whence is that Goodly Fragrance

Unto us is Born a Son

Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day

O Come, O Come Emmanuel

Still Still Still

The First Noel

Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella

Carol of the Bells

Coventry Carol

We Three Kings 

I Wonder as I Wonder

O Come, All Ye Faithful

Marche des Rois

What Child is This?

Basque Carol

Join me in getting this project up and running! Kickstarter.com

Blue Lake and Rough Drafts

Heading home now after teaching at the Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp in Michigan... exhausted as usual, ready for fresh food and my own bed. Thankful, as usual, for the experience of being a part of this creativity-factory, surrounded by nature. 

This year I experienced the Blue Lake faculty community in a new way- it wasn’t so much in late night campfires and inspiring conversations, but moral support for being there alone with my 21 month old daughter. Boy, was I optimistically naive by committing to be here. We’ve made it to the end, though, and with one diaper to spare.

My duties consisted of private harps lessons and teaching the “intro to harp” group class. 

The thing I like about this camp is that it’s not a merit-based entry for campers. They are placed into appropriate groups upon arrival, but you could be a beginner or advanced player alike and be welcomed the same. That means that the young people that come are there simply for the joy of music, of dance, art, theater, whatever their interest. Joy. Gotta have it.

They are also there because they don’t mind nature’s inconveniences. Inclement weather, bugs, dirt, powdered eggs- it’s all good. Wind in the trees. The smell of a campfire. Mmmm

One highlight was playing in the Festival Band under the direction of Donald Flickinger. We performed in “the shell”- a covered, open air venue with seats that are interrupted by trees. Amazing acoustics and fresh air- perfect for music making. One of the pieces we performed was Codex for Wind Ensemble by one of the camp counselors, Marko Bajzer. The situation was typical of what goes down at Blue Lake, and it struck me on a personal level...

It was the work’s premiere performance. Marko played the French Horn for the concert, but during rehearsals, he assisted the conductor in molding the piece into what he wanted it to be. What an opportunity for him- to have professional musicians debut his piece, on live radio, at the age of young 20 something, in front of 800 enthusiastic junior highers! It must have been a total thrill, to finally hear your work finished and performed after hours (years?) of thought, rough drafts, and artificial playback.

I feel like I’m in the “creating” stage of so many things right now. I’m in the middle of a heck of a lot of thought and rough drafts, not knowing exactly what the finished product will finally sound like. Family, love, friends, music, teaching- it’s all a big rough draft somehow. I’m still figuring it out. 

Bear with me here... 

It’s kind of like the composition of LIFE: a series of thought and rough drafts that lead to DEATH: the premiere performance in which the big picture is finally revealed, with each instrument’s part fitting together perfectly. 

It’s gonna be (better be? lol) beautiful. One day, everything I’m doing and have done is gonna make sense and I’ll get to hear my life in something better than artificial playback. 

In the meantime: more thought, another rough draft, more thought, more artificial playback, listening listening listening, another draft. And perhaps the most important... giving way to the Conductor to help me mold the bits in place. 

Deep stuff over here. 

Anyway, here we come, la France! Until next time, Blue Lake.

In with the 2013

When I was growing up in Phoenix, my family would buy a live Christmas tree for the holidays, then plant it in the back yard next to the cacti and creosote shrubs when the holidays fizzled out.  

Christmas tree shopping in France isn’t quite the same experience as in Arizona. No boy scouts. The trees are from Turkey and super small. I bought a live one this year, though, and planted it in front of our house yesterday. I was thinking of the year-in-end, Eloise was playing with dirt, and Cash was surveying us. 

2012.There were some rough days in there along with some great memories. Top 10 would be:

1.Bringing Eloise to Phoenix this summer, chilling with my parents, seeing my brother and sister, smelling the desert air.

2.Playing for the Prince of Monaco at his ball thing.

3.Playing music with my next door neighbors in their garage from time to time, after-hours and when Eloise was in bed. I love them.

4.Seeing the mountains of Corsica up-close and in person- I had only admired them from afar, from the mainland of Cabris. Being at their feet, even if it was on a ferry with my family in law, was magical.

5.On that same trip to Corsica: Eloise saying “mama” (and meaning it) for the first time, in my arms, under the sun, wading in the sea. It was like a marriage proposal. Heart-melter.

6.Having a pizza with Francois the other night in Cannes: our first time in too long to be away and alone together.

7.Teaching a first harp lesson to a new student, fresh ears, clean slate--- it’s an honor to teach a first lesson! Such a responsibility, if you ask me.

8.Getting to know Anita, my Nepalese au pair friend

9.Inviting my friend Santiago to Cabris this summer for a harp masterclass, all the way from La Mexique, being inspired by his mere presence, and thanking God to have him as a friend

10. Wearing Eloise everywhere, seemingly. In particular: the strawberry patch in back this summer. Those were some sweet mornings, picking strawberries and passing them over my back to be grasped by a little hand and devoured.

I was thinking about some of the rough days and wondering if it was time to forgive anyone that pissed me off in 2012. Ding! It was immediately obvious: the general practitioner in Cabris. 

My parents came to visit this Spring, and my mom caught a bug on the plane over. She was not herself, and her state was worsened because of her multiple sclerosis. I took her to see the doctor in Cabris, and in his cold manner, he prescribed medicine. We were sure to be sure that he had the list of her current medications, but sure enough, he prescribed something that was never meant to fly with something she was already taking. Bad to worse. Days later, we finally realized what was going on. 

I have hands-down never been so angry. “Angry” doesn’t cover it. I was shaking with rage towards this man. I exploded on him in his office, in front of other patients, demanding a humble apology that never came. I was furious for my mother’s sake, to see her as she was and to know that it could have been helped. Thinking of that day brings the hot tears back into my eyes. 

To this day, when I see the guy driving around in his little orange car, I shiver. But the truth: he’s just a guy that messed up. It was a mistake.  Mistakes are unintentional. The dude didn’t mean to destroy my parent’s visit and put my mother into an utter mess. It happened. 

I mess up, too. 

Hate sucks. I didn’t realize it was making me ugly until I was digging a hole for the tiny Turkish Christmas tree. It’s got to be done: Cabris doctor, I forgive you for messing up and hurting my mom. I’m letting it go. I’m letting you go. Forgiveness with no holds barred. Over.

Back to the hole, I wondered what’s in store for 2013. We rang in the New Year with pancakes and pajamas this morning with rain outside. Quiet start. 

And for the infamous New Year’s resolution: I’ve got it in my heart to do less and “be” more. It’s an ongoing project and I’ve made some huge strides thanks to Eloise, but I’ve still got a ways to go. 

I like seeing the little tree out front, letting its roots do what they do, adapting to its new life in France. Welcome to chez nous, little tree. 

Happy New Year, and best wishes for us all in 2013.

Autumn Lent

No, not pocket lent. Lent Lent. 

Yes yes yes, it’s time... for a period of reflection, deliberation. and musing... I’m hours away from  the first day of my favorite season. I’m not stepping away from chocolate or facebook, but this change in nature pushes me into a giving up of sorts, like a fast for clarity in my world and my little dot of a self in this world. 

Breathe it in! Welcome, Autumn.

My meditative baby-toddler on the beach the other day, her and I breathing in the changing air.

The Five Senses of a Second-String Harpist

Sometimes I wish my passion was math or house construction. Take math: it's straight forward and intellectually stimulating. I would work comfortably inside an office and could shut off the computer on Friday to forget about "work" until Monday. Or construction: I would work outside in the morning, have a delicious lunch prepared by my wife at noon, take a 20 minute nap, then work outside in the fresh air until 5PM when I would then forget about "work" until the next morning. It's physically stimulating, and there is complete closure with the finished product. I would spend rainy days in my pajamas. 

But no. Harp is never over. There's no real finished product, and there seems to be thousands of variables that affect a performance. It is, however, intellectually and physically stimulating.

I think about this sometimes on my way to gigs. Just getting the gig and getting to the gig is 90% of the battle. I usually arrive pooped, thirsty, and feeling under-practiced. In my mind I calculate my hourly wage and take into account practice time, travel time, rehearsal time, performance time, the price of the gut string that broke, and the foisted speeding ticket. Why the heck? 

At this point, I see all past gigs flash before my eyes. I'm thankful to have had the opportunity to make music with different people in different places. The most exhilarating and memorable performances are those in which I was the replacement harpist for the really good harpist that was sick or on vacation. I squeaked into their spot because I was the kid in the right place at the right time. It's not math or concrete, but I'm thankful to be me. 

So all of this was on my mind Sunday on my way Monaco. I was hurrying along to play for a Grand Prix post party (playing as the 4th harpist in a group called Harpissimo). I took this picture at the top of Monaco 2 minutes before the start of the race. I had never been to a car race (what do you call them?), so by the time I got to the center of the city, I was in shock by the actual SOUND of the thing. If I hadn't known what it was, it would have scared the living begeebees out of me. I didn't see the cars, only heard them. Wow! Loud. Ghostly. 

I got to thinking: this is the loudest gig I've ever played. One thing led to another, and here are the other top 4 Sensory Memories in the Gig Life of Megan:

Smell:

L'église de la Madeleine, Paris. 

Replacing the harpist in a small orchestra for the production of the oratorio: "Marie de Magdala" by Michel Garnier.

This cathedral is amazing to be in and to make music in, but the incense. The incense. 

Taste:

4th of July in Zilker Park, Austin, Texas

Replacing the harpist with the Austin Symphony in their outdoor spectacle. 10,000 people! Fireworks and patriotism.

You could taste the hot. 

Touch:

Playing with the 60's group "Cowsills" for a show in Los Angeles. 

My only role was to play really loud glissandos for one song... to the point of ginormous blood blisters on various fingers and the subsequent popping of the ginormous blood blisters during the show. I can still feel those glissandos. 

Sight: 

Beverly Hills, but I forget the function. I was playing for the cocktail party and there was a band going on after dinner. After I played, I came across this band in the musician hang-out area. They were so nice!

I found out later they were the Beach Boys. Doah!

Et voila.

I'd like to thank Eloise for this blog post- who took an unprecedented 4 hour nap today! 

View of Monaco from the car minutes before the Grand Prix.