A new year and new music to learn.

Greetings from Harpville. These past few days have probably been the most rewarding days of teaching for me since moving to Odessa. We are starting a new project: The Permian Basin Harp Masterclass. My kiddos were awarded a grant that will allow them to fly a harp clinician in from France to work with them on their playing. Each person will learn their own solo piece, and each piece must be written by a French composer.

Imagine thumbing through hundreds of French harp solos and finding one that suites a specific person. 53 times. That was Monday and Tuesday.

Today is Thursday, and I am amazed (shocked) at what has happened before my eyes. It's like watching a person who has their nose in a really good book that they "can't put down." They are eating up their new pieces note by note. Is this a dream?

The idea behind the PBHM is to advocate "musicality at any level." One can be expressive even as a very beginner with "simple" music. Complex pieces can be performed in a hollow manner. A complex piece that is not backed up by solid playing technique is bad news. We're steering clear of complex and going for simple, musical, beautiful artistry.

Something simple done well is beautiful. Something complex done passably is ambitious but... well, passable.

Each person has received a piece that they can learn and memorize in two months time (by the way, I feel like I've squeezed poor Bernard Andres completely dry). The goal: go from dots and lines on a page (written music) to carefully crafted musical artistry and expression. Mouthful.

One thing I hope not to forget that Elizabeth Fontan-Binoche said to me one day:
"The most important thing to teach a young harpist is
1. how to practice and
2. how to listen to themselves"

I'm trying to achieve these things in class with the repertoire as our aid. Such good times. Mm.

K-State of mind

Last weekend I joined a bunch of my family up in Kansas for K-State's homecoming football game. I appreciate my family; we all have our issues but we love each other anyway.

I was there solely for "the hang" but also got to take in some football fanaticism (I did wear purple as to not be a party pooper). I live in West Texas and yet I still go through culture shock whenever I'm at a football game. Like I've never seen a football extremist. We tend to take things pretty far, don't we? I mean, as humans sometimes? We just get fixed on something and run with it.

I obsess, too. But I can't think of something that I've totally sold out for. Harp, I guess, if that counts. Pizzeria Bianca in Phoenix maybe.

I was at the game thinking that the stadium was not too far off from what the Roman Coliseum stood for 2000 years ago. There must be something built into us that wants to be "better than that guy." Or that team. Or that school. Or that harpist. And it's life or death.

This past month at school, my students and I were following the International Harp Competition in Israel. It was the harpist's version of fantasy football, if you will. Good times. They all picked who they were routing for and tracked their way through the four stages. Sometimes here (in Odessa), it seems like it doesn't necessarily matter WHO you are routing for, as long as you are routing for SOMEONE and that you are their die-hard fan. UT or Texas Tech? Permian or Odessa High? Rosa's or Taco Villa? Ina Zdorovetchi or Remy van Kesteren?

Besides football and Mexican cuisine, music competitions are also a big deal in Texas. All-City, All-Region, All-State... many music classes totally revolve around upcoming competitions and contests.

Somewhere someone said that the last shall be ultimately first and the first shall be last. Someone also said there's nothing better to do than to eat, drink, and enjoy your days under the sun because they will be all too short. Someone else taught that whatever your hand finds to do should be done with all your might.

There's a balance in there somewhere. I'm working to find it. I'm trying to be thankful in all situations and to be correct in my ways. I'm trying to be kind. To be humble. To do a good job. I'm trying to enjoy my days. To enjoy a football game with my family. To take my best friend to Rosa's when she's in town. To take one day at a time.

Seasons

To everything there is a season and a time for every purpose. A time to: be born, die, plant, harvest, kill, heal, break down, build up, weep, laugh, mourn, dance, throw away stones, gather stones, embrace, refrain from embracing, gain, lose, keep, throw away, tear, sew, keep silent, speak, love, hate.

This has been an intense few weeks. School is back under way- 53 harptastic students this year! I'm in heaven. I'm so thankful that I love my job.

It seems also that I've been surrounded by change in this past few weeks. And not only my own change, but changes for other people. Dave and I have been been on the humble side of making music lately- hospital visit, weddings, a funeral, and a birth. The birth was yesterday- and my first harp delivery! My friend's son, Max, was born to the key of E Major. It was so amazing to be playing mere feet away from someone entering the world.

Max was breathing his first breaths as someone nearby dialed the mother's sister back home in Germany. The sister was anxiously awaiting the news. I was immediately taken back to three different phone conversations that passed between my sister and I- her being in the delivery room and me on the other end of the line somewhere or another- California, France, Texas. I am so sad to have missed all three of her deliveries, and I was moved at the conversation in front of me. It was the middle of the night in Germany. September 2nd. Same day as my nephew's birth.

I'm excited for this school year. Did I mention that I love my job? As it being my second year in Odessa, I feel like my head is all of the sudden above water! Strange, relieving feeling. My resolution for this year: do not compromise my own time alone/ practice with the harp. After the very-often 12-hour day of teaching, I crave "my time," and I'm not going to give it up this year!

On tap this weekend:
Bernard Andres' "Danses d'Automne"
Bach's Cello Suite #6- Sarabande (so beautiful on the harp!)
Douglas Gibson's latest harp sketches

Things I like about fishing

It's a beautiful, sunny day Utah. I have been slowly re-entering real-life after being in the Blue Lake bubble. My clothes have been washed and I no longer smell like a camp fire. Sad to say.

Voila... some thoughts I had during this morning's outting with my uncle. There may be a metaphor for life or some insight into the harp world in here, but I'm guessing not. Here we go...

Things I like about fishing:

The way the floating bobber creates an image of a jalepeno suspended in front of an upsidedown mountain.

The rediculus smell of power bait.

Lulls in conversation that are broken 45 minutes later simply by, "I outta go back to worm."

Each catch is a celebrated event- it may only happen once after a whole day of trying. I like that the fish don't make it too easy on us; it's like playing cards- half skill and half luck. Maybe mostly luck.

I like cleaning the fish guts out and washing it up. (This is odd and unexplained, but it goes back to when I was 7. I'm going to blame it on my dad being a horse surgeon.)

I like the luxury of capturing your own dinner.

I like that it's all about getting the darn fish to bite your hook, but it's also not really about getting the fish to bite your hook. Yes, you are out there to get fish, and you will do whatever it takes (change the bait up, switch locations, cast into a promising area, etc)... but it's also about (at least for me) just sitting there and enjoying being outside. If I get up before the sun comes up in order to "catch fish" but only end up hanging out with Uncle Mike and enjoying the scenery for 9 hours, I'm totally cool.

Thanks, Beth and Mike, for letting me come to visit!

My Blue (Lake) Heaven

Greetings from Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp in Michigan, where converse are the shoe of choice and 30 kids make up the tuba department alone!

This place is wonderful. I walk around with a giant smile on my face, that I could be up with the trees, talking harp most of the day, hanging out with interesting people, hearing some great music, seeing great art, watching great dance & theater... this is becoming the highlight of my summers.

There are about 100 faculty members and 1300 campers for each session. The faculty tend to whine about the coffee, the occasional mouse in the cabin, our paycheck, the mosquitos, and the 8 AM classes. In all honesty, though, we love it here. We would actually pay to be here because we love it so much.

I have a fantastic group of 7 high school-aged harpists. We spend about 6 hours a day together playing, playing, playing, playing. They spoiled me from the first day because of their ease in working together. We've been able to do a lot of exciting things because of how motivated and easy-going each of them are. My personal favorite was watching them perform "Chanson dans la Nuit" by Carlos Salzedo for the camp talent show, arranged completely by themselves for 14 hands instead of two.

I think the talent show night has actually been the highlight of camp for me (not counting the 4th of July campfire on the lake). Next time I get down or blue, I'm going to remember seeing that entire crowd of young people cheering for each other, some of them getting up on stage out of sheer bravery and zest for simply being able to breathe, and all of them having one care-free heck of a time. Favorite act: glow sticks guy.

This past week marks the first time that I have actually enjoyed conducting. The harp ensemble made it a pleasure to wave my hands around, especially for Stephanie Curcio's "Flume Gorge." Great piece.

Another thought from this week: my teacher in France would always kinda sink into her chair, kiss the cross around her necklace, and say a prayer before one of her students performed in public (it didn't seem to matter which one). I would watch her and think it was strange that she would be so nervous for them, but am starting to experience the same thing when I have to sit in an audience while my students perform. What's up with that? I'm more nervous for them than for myself.

Can't not mention this: I would like to send a special shout-out to Chris Smith who brought the house down with his fiddle playing during the faculty recital. We did "The Devil Went Down to Blue Lake" for harp and fiddle, and it turned out to be a memory that I will gladly keep for a long time. I've never played with a mic in my face before! Very strange. I've been wanting to perform that tune for a long time now. Thank you, Chris!

I'm going to miss this place.

Whats the point?

Every Friday in harp class, I give a short quiz. This quiz asks questions about stuff we talked about or studied that week. Of course, I use the quizzes to gauge the progress of the students' learning, but I mostly like to give the quiz out of sheer curiosity... I wonder what in the world they will write.

A quiz question from a couple weeks ago was "Name three ways music serves us as a culture." Some of the answers were:

to help us dance
to express feelings and ideas
to entertain each other
to enrich religious services
to help us feel emotion

The other night I went to the Midland Odessa Symphony's pops concert. That's an entire blog entry in itself, but I've got to say here that they played one medley of songs called “Salute to the Services.” The conductor invited veterans to stand and be honored when their armed force's song was played. Wow. Powerful and moving.

Earlier in the afternoon I had been at an outdoor harp recital at the hospice in Odessa. Some of my students played in the garden there, and it was lovely. I know one person personally who was there that has been facing the death of a close friend. I thought about that quiz question. Why is there music? What's point of it? How does it fit in to our lives?

In this case, the music may have caused the person to feel hopeful and sad at a time when it was perfectly alright to feel sad and hopeful. In the case of the pops concert, the music had evoked in me feelings of gratitude and humility in front of about 50 men that had served my country. And now tonight as I write this, I'm listening to Sigur Ros. Perfect music for reflection and inspiration.

Here are some photos of the last month's harp happenings in Odessa. School is out for summer time. I'm going to miss seeing these peeps! I'm happy to have some time off from schlepping harps around... I've discovered this great diet called "Harp Mover 3000." Move 3000 harps in a month and shed those unwanted pounds. (I didn't get a completely accurate count, but I think it was around 3000 harps.)

Happy summer!

Uncomfortable

Uncomfortableness is a good sign. Being uncomfortable (in the non-physical sense) means that something is growing and making progress inside of us. It means we are allowing ourselves to FEEL, to taste, to be in forward motion, to live.

This past week I organized the "First Annual" Permian Basin Harp Masterclass. I have this habit of throwing myself in way over my head and seeing what comes of it all, and this event was yet another example for the books. Sometimes I stub my toe on the moon and sometimes I come out victorious. The idea of a music "masterclass" hadn't seemed to be too familiar in Odessa, and I had planned all of this with no expectations but also with very very high hopes that the harpists here could be touched and transformed by two special guests.

"You want to do what? Who?"

"Ya, so I'd like to have a harp workshoppy thing with my teacher from France and this other harpist guy from Mexico."

And what do you know? It happened! Elizabeth Fontan-Binoche and Santiago Morales flew in to paint the town red for five days and five nights, all because of this crazy instrument with too many strings. 15 young harpists from across Texas were present to soak in teaching, humor, and harp music. They visited my classes and were interrogated by my students. I am so thankful for these two; they make me a better person just by being near me, let alone a better harpist! Now I'm not the only one in Odessa who feels this way.

But an idea keeps lingering in my mind now that my guests are gone and the dust is settling- something blog-worthy. Here it is: it's all about being uncomfortable. Madame Fontan travelled countless hours to a foreign country to GIVE of herself and her experience as a harpist. Santiago travelled and managed to be here to GIVE of his heart and music. I didn't sleep for a week so that I could somehow GIVE this masterclass to my students. The students pushed themselves and mustered up their bravery to face new challenges in their playing and performing- to GIVE all that they could. I'm proud of us. A Man once said that we are happier when we give than when we receive. Giving is usually against our nature and quite uncomfortable, and being uncomfortable isn't comfortable. But giving invites happiness into our lives. I could feel the love this past weekend. I could feel the happiness in my bones by just sitting around watching people in this give-fest. Can I get a witness?!?!

My favorite moments in the masterclass were when Madame Fontan would go off on a tangent in the middle of someone's lesson. Not an angry, off-course tangent, but some story or anecdote that related to the moment. I usually lean in to hear what she has to say anyway, but when she starts in on some obscure thought (which isn't at all obscure), brace yourself for a profound message encapsulated by humility and love. Good stuff. Really good stuff.

And who knew Madame Fontan likes horchata and mariachis!?!