Sunrise Breeze

So it all started with me commandeering my neighbor's wind chimes at around 6 AM.

Brought them to 3rd period, which is a 7th grade class. Turned out the lights. We closed our eyes and listened to me brushing the chimes. Lights are on. We figured out the pitches of the chimes. Each composed 3 measures using only those pitches. Put them together to form one piece. Added a base line. Loaded the notes into the computer. And

Presto!

"Sunrise Breeze" for harp sextet (also playable as a solo). Enjoy!

Score:
Sunrise%20Breeze.pdf

Audio:
Sunrise%20Breeze.wav

Small Chunks

From the classroom yesterday: "Ms. Metheney, why are you so smiley?"

We are working with the beauty of "small chunks" these days, still plugging away at the Permian Basin Harp Masterclass project. If you've got a large task in front of you (like learning a solo harp piece that you are totally unfamiliar with), our objective is: "Ok, guys. This week, your mission is to tackle the first two measures. Hands together. Memorized." Two measures are feasible and less daunting.

Then there are the small chunks within the small chunks. For example, first it's right hand alone until that's totally mastered. Then left hand. Then together.

And there are even small chunks within the small chunks of the small chunks. "This is a weird fingering that you've never done before. Let's do the first two notes like 20 times, then we'll add a note and do that twenty times.

I love how my students don't flinch anymore when I say, "Ok sweet. Do that 20 times and then call me back over." It's because they have found a feasible chunk!!

I'm sure the chunk methodology is applicable to the meaning of life somehow. Hmm... I will need a second cup of coffee for that one.

There is one student out of the 54 that believe their piece is too difficult. And there's one that thinks theirs is too easy. I think, slowly, that they will realize the possibilities within their own hands, both musically and technically.

May your day be filled with chunks,
Megan

Sunday

Today was another good day. It's been quite a while since I took a Sunday completely off (I was told recently that "I have no life" and therefore decided to shape up), and today was a day that I forced myself not to look at my to-do list for work. Crazy! And I feel so refreshed. Harp practice. Clean sheets. Full fridge. Siesta. Phone calls to friends. I liked today.

On the school-front: something is in the air here... I feel like my students (especially the junior highers) are excited about harp. Their parents are excited that they are excited. I'm sitting back, watching people be excited.

There was a booster club meeting last Friday to discuss summer harp camps. It was a packed house, and there are many students that would like to raise the money to go on a harp retreat this year, both in-State and out-of-State. Sweet! They are gung-ho-ly taking responsibility for their playing and interest in harp.

Here is a pic from the OHS football banquet last Friday. I'm still reminded that I'm in West Texas when I see an event like this. No complaints! Just enjoying the observations.

And on the personal practice front: I'm working on "Otoño Porteño" by Astor Piazzolla, arranged by Argentine harpist Maria Luisa Rayan-Forero. I've never met Maria Luisa, but I feel like I walk through her head as I play through her transcription. Her arrangement is delightful. And Piazzolla on the harp... yes! Fan. Sometimes I wish I was a violinist or accordionist, but whatever. I'll take what I can get. My hope is that I can pull off the solo so that it's as in-your-face as it is with multiple instruments. My fingers are crossed, as it were. ... I can't imagine how amazing it would have been to play with this guy. Or heard him live. Intense emotion and energy. Mm- love it.

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!