Queen’s Birthday Gift: abdication for the new king

If I weren’t in Maui or connecting flights in Chicago, I would definitely rather be in Amsterdam right now.

Only by stumbling upon a friend’s post on Facebook did I learn that the Dutch Queen is abdicating her throne for her son on 30th April 2013. What a historic event it is!

Every year, on 30th April, every one in the Netherlands comes out to play. It’s not the present queen’s birthday but that of her mother’s that she chose to declare a public holiday for the nation. There are street parties from morning till night. You can either choose to host your own party, sell your wares outside your house, on your street, or visit other parties. The next day is probably the smelliest and dirtiest day in the country, for the streets reek of stale beer and urine.

My first encounter of the Queen’s Birthday Party was in 1995 when I decided to visit the Keukenhof, by way of a conference in Rotterdam. My Dutch friend told me about this public holiday and gave me a glimpse.

From that day on, I was hooked. Every 30th April in the Netherlands was a day to enjoy with friends.

Here’s a toast to the Queen and the new King —- and all my friends in the Netherlands.

A thousand visits per week

This time last Thursday the Concertblog had a thousand fewer visits than today.

Today I paired two students together to work on A Thousand Years for their final piano recital. I still need to make this available for those who want the sheet music –my arrangement for those keen on playing the theme song from Twilight: Breaking Dawn.

A picture paints a thousand words. A Chinese character is a picture. The character for thousand is only one stroke more than the character for ten.

What does this say about ten and a thousand?

Perhaps there isn’t any difference.

Just like the number of visits or visitors to this blog. Maybe there is no greater or hidden meaning!

This is the first blog post created on my iPhone. I do need reading glasses though!

Piano playing in Taipei, Taiwan

What a joy it was to meet up with my old friend Tina, whom I’ve known since my teenage years. The way we met was in class in the Hakka town of Miao Li Gong Guan. She was accompanying choir – and I noticed she played a wrong note on the piano.

To discover after a lifetime of wedded bliss, motherhood, career, …. she still plays the piano — that’s the joy!

I grew up in a neighborhood where our fathers were colleagues, our mothers volunteered for community activities, and we kids went to school together. We were competitive, and we all learned to play the piano. Every other year, we’d “return” to our native lands (Taiwan, Korea, etc) on “home leave.” Some industrious parents (like mine) would put us through school so we’d progress in our own languages. That’s how I met Tina.

How many of us still play the piano? Few.

My entire family learned to play the piano. First my father — in college — he learned to play the black keys. He bought a new Yamaha upright (a console) in Okinawa. My mother, my 6-year old sister, and I started piano lessons from a Japanese neighbor, the wife of one of my father’s colleagues. Eventually when my brother became of age, he started lessons, too.

As I listened to Tina sightread the Chinese equivalent of “fake book,” that is, jian pu (simplified Chinese music notation) as right hand melody and accompaniment in Western chords, I thought of all the years that had gone by. Suddenly I felt a shake. The ground beneath me trembled on the morning of Wednesday 27th March.

I stopped her. “What is it?” I asked.

Tina stopped playing abruptly.

The IKEA loft bed above the covered upright piano was shaking from side to side.

“It’s an earthquake,” she replied and went back to playing the same piece.

Barely a week has gone by since she came to pick me up at the airport. Today she waited for me at the same airport with presents.

I wish there was more time to play music — we have not even managed a duet together — ever.

“Come visit me,” I said. “You’ve missed out on all those great places I’ve lived.”

A future blog: jian pu — simplified Chinese music notation

Facetime for video communication with dad

One of my top missions on this trip to Taiwan was to get my 82-year old father hooked on iPad, more specifically Facetime. He’s already familiar with Youtube. Facetime is even better — he would then be able to watch performances live.

Facetime is a free application for the iPad, iPhone, and iMac computers. It’s a free, bilateral video communication over the Internet. In some ways, it’s better than Skype video.

The iPad presents a disruptive technology I had hoped he would embrace, just like the way my sister had. When I arrived at his home a few days ago, he pulled out the iPad carefully from a black case and asked me what he was supposed to do with it.

My brother had bought it last October from the Apple store near my dad’s condo but didn’t have enough time to “train” him how to make the most of the iPad and its applications.

My father was still switching on his old desk-top (PC) computer, Internet modem, and e-mail to communicate with us.

To use Facetime, you must have someone at the other end available to be contacted. Neither my brother nor my sister have their iPads connected and ready to roll at all times. After a few futile attempts, it’s no wonder you’d give up.

After simulating a live Facetime session from different rooms in his home, I now gave him an assignment.

“Wake me up tomorrow morning with Facetime,” I said. “Just leave your wifi on. Leave your iPad on — let it charge overnight. I will do the same.”

“What time should I call you?” he asked.

“Whenever you wake up. Just press the button to turn on the iPad and click on the Facetime icon. Do you remember how to look for me?”

We tried it a few times.

We would need to practice with my sister and brother next. This would not replace e-mail but it’s better than the telephone, for he is getting hard of hearing.

What money cannot buy in Taiwan

Even with the positive effects of globalization, it’s still not possible to get what you want where you are. Sometimes you have to travel elsewhere to be able to choose what you want at a better price than you can get where you live.

In Taiwan, it’s possible to eat very well for less than what it costs to buy a cup of coffee in the USA.

For lunch, we three ordered 4 dishes from an authentic Szechuan restaurant: tofu, greens, clam soup, and 3 bowls of Szechuan wontons (chao shou). The meal came with unlimited self-service white rice and sweet black jelly drink (xian cao, or hsian tsao, or translated literally, fairy grass). The bill was US $12.00.

In the early afternoon, I got a haircut for US $3.50 — just the cut, no shampoo or blow dry.

Later I ordered a small bowl of wonton noodle soup for about US $1.50 from an outdoor, roadside stall (hawker). It was so filling that I barely had room for papaya, pineapple, salt-water goose leg, steamed bamboo leaf parcel, and other small dishes (xiao cai; hsiao tsai) afterwards.

Yet, at the same time, an iPhone 4S costs about US $663 outright. SIM unlocked. It’s better to get such gadgets in the USA. Accessories, such as iPad and iPhone covers, on the other hand, are quite inexpensive and varied. I bought a nice iPhone 5 cover for a mere US$10 at a convenience store in Taipei.

The 2.5 hour coach ride from Taipei to Taichung cost me US $6.00 —- quite hard to believe.

My nondescript hotel in Taichung has all the amenities I need for the week: wireless Internet, shower, TV (though I don’t need this), clean bed & daily change of sheets and towels, shower, toilet, two mirrors. I can get boiling hot water or cold water from a dispenser in the hallway. It’s a 5 minute walk from my father’s home. How much? Less than US$ 25 per night.

The walk to my father’s home meanders through a shopper’s paradise of colorful assortment of shoes, clothes for all seasons, and other material goods. Sales range from 10% to 90% off. Everything is primed for “shop till you drop.”

Unfortunately, all that glitters is not gold for someone who is not here to shop but to maximize the experience of one precious week for another year or more before I see my father again.

Crossing the international dateline without a watch

Several months ago, my sister pointed at my wrist watch and commented,”What? You’re still wearing a watch? That’s so old-fashioned! Once you have a cell phone, you don’t need a watch anymore.”

Her remark struck a chord in me. And subconsciously I stopped wearing a watch.

After all, if I did wear a watch, I’d always take it off to play the piano or type on the computer keyboard. A watch was a habit from my past.

However, when I travel, I do miss my watch. My iPhone has to be constantly ON to tell the time. And yet, it’s practically useless without wireless internet or global cellular roaming features, which I switch off to avoid hefty charges when crossing international borders.

I crossed the international dateline some point between the first and second Korean movie onboard the eleven hour flight. By the time we landed at Incheon Airport, I was hungry for authentic Korean food. It was 4:30 pm. I had 3 hours to kill before the connecting flight.

To my surprise, there was free wifi — strong enough to check Facebook and write a short blog.

It was strange to arrive on a Monday evening after leaving first thing Sunday morning. This entire week I’ve been trying to figure out how I managed to travel forward in time by simply passing the international date line.

I am now exactly 12 time zones away from East Coast USA. I think I am 6 time zones from Hawaii and 6 from the Netherlands.

The clock on my iPhone automatically adjusts to the right time in whichever time zone I’m in. I should stop worrying about what time it is.

A holiday away from paradise

Most people, I daresay, imagine going on holiday as going somewhere to escape the daily routine, somewhere very different from their usual existence.

You can conjure up an image of sipping on an exotic cocktail at sunset in some mosquito-free tropical paradise. Or going on a ski holiday in the Swiss alps. Or a yoga holiday in the Himalayas.

A holiday is a place away from the hustle-bustle, far from the madding crowd.

When you work in a place as beautiful, clean, and uncrowded as the island of Maui, which has been voted the top traveller’s choice for 16 consecutive years by Conde Nast readers, it’s hard to imagine going anywhere for a holiday. Anywhere else would be “suboptimal” so to speak.

Where would I go on holiday if everyday is a holiday?

As I write, I am in an non-descript hotel in Taichung, Taiwan, on holiday. For the past 3 hours, I have been sitting on my single bed, reading articles on my iPad and listening to the heavy drops of rain and downpour.

Never mind the noise pollution, air pollution, and visual pollution (i.e. clutter). Urban traffic prevents a straight path on the sidewalk from the hotel to my destination.

But I am as happy as I can be.

Just yesterday, my friend in Taipei introduced me to the best eateries in her neighborhood. I was sad I couldn’t stay longer to sample them all. Before I left, we took photos of piano sheet music she’s collected over the years. [Bookmark this for a future blog post!]

In Taichung, the sunset market carried my favorite Chinese delicacies: pickled boneless chicken feet, pickled fish skin, green seaweed, steamed Shanghainese dumplings, home-made soya milk, and pearl bubble milk tea. Tomorrow we will feast on stir-fried eel. I count the number of meals I have left and hope I have enough time to digest each one before the next and that I won’t waste a meal opportunity on a bad choice.

It’s the contrast that we want between work and holiday. It’s also getting a distance from work to reflect upon life in a different environment, one in which you’re a temporary visitor.

Fourth anniversary of Concertblog

Four years ago, I started the concertblog to document what it’s like to give concerts, plan, record, review, and travel.

It’s been a long and very interesting journey, cumulating in 96,000 visitors. In time to come, I’ll round it up to 100,000.

While our intentions were pure, we certainly had no idea of the outcome. Where would we be 5 years from now? 10 years?

One thing for sure, we didn’t expect to end up on opposite ends of the earth: one in full-time education & working part-time, the other working overtime. And being apart, it’s impossible to give concerts as a duo.

Thanks to skype and Facetime, it’s still possible to review our different lives and pursuits.

The endorphin-kicking rush of giving a concert is still there. A live performance still beats a recorded one.

As I type this blog on my iPad in a hotel in Honolulu, I am thinking about our last trip to Taiwan — we managed to perform a few extracts of our duo programme at a Rotary Club in Taiwan. We sightread music with a string quartet in Taipei.

Tomorrow I fly to Taipei to experience a taste explosion. That will be my celebration of this four year journey of experimenting and experiencing all that’s possible as traveling musicians. It’s also a time to reflect —- where next?

How to overcome stage fright

Some of my confident piano students admitted to “nerves” or “stage fright.”

This is not uncommon for first time performers.

I said to them,”You’re used to sitting in the audience, as a student. I’m used to standing in front of the class. It’s natural that you’d experience stage fright when we swap places.”

We brainstormed on how to overcome stage fright.

One student said that taking drama class helped a lot. There are exercises in impromptu acting which helps you think on the spot. You are forced to stand in front of an audience you can’t see because the spotlight is directed at you.

Another said practice. The more you practice, the more you know the piece and the less likely you will mess up.

Yes, practising the piece you’re going to perform is important. But you should also practise giving performances.

I told the class that I once pursued a bad habit of looking for grand pianos in hotels. I would force myself to go to the piano and play something from memory. The audience was anonymous and so was I. I had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

I also recalled forcing myself to make announcements at meetings or ask questions at conferences. Once upon a time, I worked on the trading floor for dealers who were impatient and intimidating because of the large sums of money they were managing. It was scary to join their late morning meeting, make an announcement and become the center of attention for 3 minutes. I was sure they’d rather go get lunch.

The important thing is to overcome your fears.

Long ago, I remember my hands and fingers getting antsy, sweaty, and even numb. I can’t remember when I stopped feeling like that.

They say it takes 10,000 hours to get good at something. How many thousand times does it take to overcome stage fright?

Concert etiquette for performers

When you google “concert etiquette” you get tips on how to behave as a member of the audience. This article is not about that. It’s about how performers should behave so that the audience will appreciate the performance.

I asked my piano students how they felt when the performing student didn’t bow or look at them when he/she got on stage and off/stage. They weren’t quite sure.

I showed them how to get on stage, how to bow, and how to end a performance by standing up and bowing. I told them they could lean their left hand on the grand piano to steady themselves. But the important thing was to spend a little bit of time looking at the audience and show modesty and bow for acknowledgement — that you appreciate your audience being there.

I asked the next student to bow before she played and bow afterwards.

The students in the audience said that they felt recognized and appreciated as the audience. It also seemed like a real concert.

How difficult is it to show some basic etiquette before and after you give a performance?

One student remarked that rock musicians don’t do that always.

The thing is, I said, the performer is not the most important person in the room. The audience is.

Without the audience, it’s not a performance.

I next talked about mistakes. If you make a mistake, don’t show it. Don’t grimace. Continue.

I learned that lesson long ago —- poker face. Don’t make a big deal out of it. Your audience isn’t there to judge you and count the mistakes you’ve made.

Next: how to overcome stage fright.