Positive feedback

This compact Victorian cottage has excellent feng shui and a history of house concerts that made the neighborhood a community. Shortly before I left London, I set up the Neighborhood Watch which became a resident association. Soon I will experience that familiar feeling of “coming home” once more.  Below are examples of positive feedback from satisfied tenants.

Garden at Victorian Cottage in London

Historians from Canada and USA, October – November 2008	The house was lovely, and I really enjoyed the opportunity to have a proper home. I’ve been researching with much less comfortable housing for the past three weeks and I definitely miss it.Thanks again for everything. I’ve really loved staying in your house. It’s a wonderful place.
Medical doctor, nurse, and young daughter (3) from Alaska, Jan – July 2008	We are going to have so many fun memories. Icing on the cake to a great sabbatical in London. Thank you so much.
Family of four from New Zealand: grandparents & two grandchildren (10 & 12), July 2006	We would recommend it to anyone considering renting the house! We were all very happy there and enjoyed our holiday immensely.The cottage is ideally situated – sunny and comfortable. Quiet location – handy to all facilities. The house is very well equipped – everything we needed for a family stay. We had a most enjoyable time and, although it was only for three weeks, the house was soon referred to as “home” – such was the pleasant atmosphere that has been created.
Family of four from abroad, 2004-2006	We took a long let (18 months) at this lovely property and have not regretted it for one minute. The house has an ambience that makes it a home. We have two small children and there was plenty of space for them to play in the living room, the dining room and the tiled, walled garden with its gorgeous camellia.It was lovely in summer or winter to stroll in Fielding Walk, which the back garden overlooks, while the close proximity of Lammas and Walpole Parks were such an advantage for the children. The play centre in Lammas Park is a wonderful free resource and close by Fielding School has a great reputation. Street parking has never been a problem and the tube is just a few minutes walk away, great for getting to Heathrow or going to the West End for a night. The local shops were a few minutes walk away and bigger supermarkets just 15-20 minutes walking or a short bus ride. We felt like we were living in caring community where neighbours are neighbourly, helpful and friendly and our landlady, Anne, very easy to get along with. Thanks so much Anne and Robert. When we are settled back in our home country, please come and visit us.
French/Chinese couple (30′s) with 6 year old son, January 2004	We stayed in Anne’s house for five weeks before moving to our own.Anne’s house is lovely and comfortable, especially the very bright kitchen with a view to the garden.The house is in a quiet and convenient area (for those who take the tube). We really made ourselves feel at home in Anne’s house, partly because Anne is a very nice and understanding landlady (not easy to find in London)!!
3rd generation Irish single, harpist, 40′s	As always, one instinctively knows within minutes of walking in the front door, whether or not a house would be a happy place to make your home. On my first visit to Anne’s home, I instantly knew that this house had been given much love, care and attention over the years.The nice exceptionally clean and bright dining room and kitchen are very romantic. The rear walled garden is where we had the most rememberable barbecue last summer, I remember playing harp in the garden after the party till the early hours. The house is in such a quiet road, I slept so well and felt I was on holiday there !
English/American single, pianist, 20′s, Sept-Dec 2003	Anne’s house is a haven of peace and tranquility, the kitchen is modern and very cosy and the antique wooden floors and white walls make the whole house very furbished and very clean with a rich Victorian feel. I loved staying there, there’s lots of room, lots of people could stay as there are 2 bedrooms and a completely furnished loft. You won’t find another house like this that you can rent in Ealing.The garden is very peaceful and extremely well kept and has the been the scene of many garden parties and barbeques. Everyone who has stayed there, including me, have felt disappointed to leave.
English/Italian single, pianist, late 30′s	Anne’s house offers the perfect ambience after a busy day in London. Situated down a pretty tree-lined avenue, the 10 minute walk from the tube station is well worth the effort.Inside there is everything you need: a well equipped kitchen, spacious dining room and lounge, quiet comfortable bedrooms and a modern stylish bathroom. The house is also within easy reach of late night convenience stores, restaurants and take aways.

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

A day in the life of the blogmaiden

It was one of those long and winding days, waking up and on the phone while having a make-shift breakfast.

8 am – I thought there was enough time for my 9 am phone appointment with the policy expert in San Francisco.

Multi-tasking on the computer. iPhone.

Then an alert from my google-calendar — a conference call on sustainability. I had completely forgotten about it.

Headset – landline. Desktop. Brewing Hawaiian coffee. Multi-island conference-call and google doc. I was typing away. I wanted to leave by 10:45 am – but as usual, it got too late to be on time for yoga.

So I made a detour – and then made lunch at my mom’s. She wasn’t there but she left her freshly washed and picked greens on the counter for me. The pot that I thought was soup for the noodles I was making turned out to be freshly cooked sweet red bean dessert. I packed them for later.

I had to cancel my 1:30 pm appointment so I could be ready for the 2 pm. Several colleagues descended upon me at once. It was time for the electric vehicle exchange outside the new science building.

I had to empty my flash drive (or memory stick as they call it elsewhere) for the digital photography class. We had gone on a photo shoot last Saturday on the West Side — in quest of EV in paradise, or at least what it should be.

A voicemail from Kentucky. Who do I know there? I had completely overlooked his e-mail of 1st Feb!

Then I opened an e-mail from the State — an urgent request for me to read some extremely technical and legal document overnight and provide feedback.

By 4:30 pm I was spent.

I stayed another 30 minutes to get things printed for review tonight. Did I really want to do more work?

As I left campus, I reminded myself to always leave before it got dark — otherwise I’d feel resentful of giving my day away.

After dumping my mom’s plastics and newspaper at the recycling corner, I drove through the park and thought how best to spend the remaining sunset hours.

Did I want to read outside? Pick rucola from my little garden? Unpack the package from Boston?

In the end, I succumbed to my bed — completely exhausted from working around the clock these last 4 days.

But there was one more day left of this week.

Can I make it?

I had already prepared the test for my 14 piano students. I’m sure they will do well tomorrow afternoon. And then I’ll go through the Circle of Fifths and tell them about Catalyst String Quartet that will be visiting Maui on 27th February.

Before lunch, I will meet with the half-Dutch, half-Chinese host of the dinner party where I will play and talk about music for Chinese New Year of the Snake. A year ago I had researched the Year of the Dragon and the lyrics from the Song and Tang dynasties and presented a lecture/recital with a Chinese soprano. It was something I wanted to do again but simply too time-challenged this year to do one properly.

Will I have time to practise?

No. I have a 9 am meeting with my procurement officer on invoices, budgets, and travel requests.

At least I managed to swim laps in the outdoor pool and got some vitamin D in the tropical sun. That was my treat.

Writing workshop in Wailuku

Stroke after stroke, I find myself empowered with infinite energy, relentless to complete as many laps as I can in the half hour before the pool closes. The sun will soon disappear behind the old Wailuku mountains. Another Saturday will be gone.

After an entire day spent indoors except for a brief break for lunch, I should be tired but I am not.

Earlier this week I received an e-vite from my writing teacher of this past summer’s 3-day workshop “Writing across curriculum.” She was hosting a one day workshop for the author and teacher Rebecca Walker, whom she had spoken highly of a year ago. The workshop began, for me, when I clicked “yes” to the invitation. I started looking forward to it. I needed a writing workshop to combat my resistance to write.

At 9:30 am, I was the first to arrive. I drove past the house twice because there were no cars parked outside.

“Am I the only one?” I asked timidly.

Was I so desperate to get coaching on my writing that I said yes to attend an all day workshop on a Saturday, the only day this week that I did not have work commitments? When the others started arriving, I secretly started to panic.

I don’t know these women. I don’t know if I will ever meet them again. How could I afford the time to listen to their writing struggles when I have too many of my own?

There is something unnerving about sitting among strangers. In the last decade of organizing concerts, I have become accustomed to knowing everyone in the room. One of the tasks in my day job is organizing events. Again, I usually know everyone I invite. So here I was, squirming in my seat because I did not know anyone.

Rebecca Walker had not met most of the individuals before today. But she looked at ease. In fact, she exuded the kind of calmness and confidence of someone at peace with herself and her surroundings. She spoke to us as though she was speaking to each of us individually. One by one we introduced ourselves and where we were with our writings. She gave us writing exercises. We read what we wrote out loud. She commented and asked questions. We expressed ourselves. We found what we had in common with others.

In the space of six hours, I learned not only from my own writing but what others had to share. I discovered that when I finally got paid to write, I resisted and procrastinated. Yet, when I’m not paid to write, such as posting this blog, I would do it whole-heartedly. Where’s the catch?

At the end of the workshop, I asked about the spiral-bound document that was lying on the table: “The art of memoir with Rebecca Walker.”

“Is this a book you’re writing?”  No, it’s a week-long workshop Rebecca gives on Maui. The next one is scheduled for 4 to 11 January 2013.

Years ago, I had taken a week-long “writing from life” course in rural Devon through the Arvon Foundation. I thought that I had killed two birds with one stone: I took a writing course and I was able to go on holiday. It had such an effect on me that I blogged about it for 8 consecutive days and consciously noted to take another course on writing, maybe in some exotic location.

And so here I am.

In Maui.

The day-long workshop “Private Writing Workshop with Rebecca Walker” brought me back to that writing retreat in England. How far I have journeyed in 8 years and still not arrived.

Canyons by Thomas Osborne

We six pianists first met on Sunday 4th March 2012 in Ruth Murata’s Maui Music Conservatory. Ebb & Flow Arts had commissioned a new piece for 4 pianos. As time marched on, we got anxious if we’d get the score in time to study individually and then rehearse as a group.

As with all new music, the approach is to first scan it, assess the difficulty and amount of time required to study it. We’d identify the challenging areas and spend more time studying them than the rest. We’d use a metronome to ensure we keep to a steady beat.

When we got together to rehearse on subsequent Sunday afternoons, we’d notice that the music for 4 pianos was quite different from the single score we were given to study. After studying Milhaud’s Paris, Busby’s Four!, Depue’s 16 Pawns, and two piano works, we learned towards the end of May, that Honolulu-based composer Thomas Osborne’s new work was ready.

When I first looked at “Canyons” I didn’t know what to make of it. The mp3 recording sounded extremely exciting though. I was willing to give it a chance. I became one of the pianists committed to studying it for premiere on 14th July. Robert Pollock, the founder and director of Ebb & Flow Arts, planned for us three pianists to rehearse and the last 3 rehearsals with the composer as the 4th pianist.

“Canyons” plays on the term canons. It uses imitation and terraced dynamics to produce the kind of echo effect you can hear in a canyon. The first pianist to play is Piano 4 — loud. The next pianist — Piano 3 — is slightly less loud. These dynamic levels are to be kept throughout the piece.

Canyons by Thomas Osborne, page 1

Robert Pollock and I discussed this and other works on Kaoi Radio recently.

Here’s the 25 minute audio clip.

Tonight’s concert is FREE — and expected to draw a standing-room only audience. My only regret is that we get to perform each piece just once — tonight.

Piano Synergy! Concert, 14th July 2012 at 7:30 pm at the Maui Music Conservatory, 2nd floor of the very centrally located Queen Ka’ahumanu Shopping Mall in Kahului, on Maui, Hawaii. We begin with a work of John Cage and end with Darius Milhaud’s Paris.

The highlight of the evening will surely be Thomas Osborne’s “Canyons.”

Canyons by Thomas Osborne bars 84 to 87

Wanted: home for a Steinway

My relocation to the Netherlands in 2003/2004 coincided with a refund of monies from Singapore. It was a milestone for change.

Frustrated by the daily challenge of finding a good piano to practise at the conservatory in Utrecht and the inadequate upright piano at home in Bussum, I decided to find a grand piano of my own.

First I visited the local piano shop whose owner led me to a room full of Yamahas. I could not find a piano that was special enough to be different. I abandoned the idea of a Yamaha and went for a Steinway instead. The story of how I found that piano and the piano technician who helped me negotiate the price is an interesting one, perhaps for another blog post. He did request that I visit his atelier after I got back from Taiwan. A month later, the French polished, restrung Steinway grand arrived in Bussum.

It was a glorious moment — to finally have a Steinway Grand Piano in my home. The Steinway was not from Hamburg but from New York. Made in 1909. All 188 CM of it. Model A. Ivory keys. One celebrated concert pianist, Dutch winner of the Liszt Piano Competition who commuted between Vienna and Utrecht, remarked that it was a Rachmaninoff piano for it had that romantic sound.

Here’s how the Steinway sounds: Intermezzo by Allan Segall, performed by Anne Ku, recorded by Robert Bekkers.

I held a Steinway Warming party for my piano friends. With the upright piano, four pianists could play on both pianos. We tried all sorts of duets.

Once I got accustomed to being the proud owner of a Steinway, it was time to let go of my Gerhard Adam, a German mahogany grand piano from the 1920′s which I left behind in London. I wrote a decision making guide to buying a second-hand piano to help sell that piano online. Once again I walked down my memory lane of buying a piano. I wrote an Adieu which used all 88 keys on the piano, a way for me to say goodbye thru the new owner I did not meet.

Here is a recording of my playing on my Steinway. Adieu to a Piano by Anne Ku

Steinway Grand Model A 188cm, 1909 New York, before recording session

In summer 2006, the Steinway moved with me to Utrecht. We launched the Monument House Concert Series with a violin and guitar concert by Duo 46. That December we chose the theme Piano as Orchestra, featuring several concertos (harp, euphonium, guitar). The following year we combined food with music in Chamber Music Tapas Style. Every year we committed to organizing two house concerts. Often we had several mini concerts, including a kitchen concert, garden concert, impromptu concert. Each time we became more adventurous and more professional. We outsourced food and wine to professional chefs and wine sommeliers. We included art exhibitions.

On my last trip back to the Netherlands, I felt compelled to host two concerts back to back. Despite being time-challenged with only 2.5 months to sort out my things, I felt it was important to organize these concerts for two American pianists on their way to the Italian alps. Why? Maybe instinctively I knew it was the last time my grand piano would be heard in a concert setting. Sure enough, 2nd July 2011 became the last house concert.

And the last recordings were that of piano duets I had collected from a Call for Scores from Hawaii to Holland. Here’s Brendan Kinsella and I playing my late composition teacher Henk Alkema’s piece.

APPEAL:

This Steinway Grand, made in New York in 1909, model A – 188 cm – needs a home. SALE. RENT. or LOAN.

Steinway for Sale with new photos and sound clips.

Interested parties please use the LEAVE A REPLY field below.

Steinway Grand at the Monument House, Utrecht

Improvisation workshop

The workshop was in full swing when I arrived — 5 minutes late. The pianist, Lee Pui Ming, looked up and acknowledged me. She said that they were just going around introducing each other. She’d let me catch my breath and get to me last. I didn’t have to feel guilty. I already felt like I was part of the workshop.

Only glass doors and an entire glass wall separated the inside of the Maui Music Conservatory from the rest of the mall. It was a Friday night. Teenagers were out and about. Where else do you hang out on Maui, as a pre-drinking aged teenager? At night?

Yet inside the spacious reception of the conservatory where 4 grand pianos stood in a fan shape, lids wide open, ivories fully exposed, waiting to be consumed, was a different kind of space. No teenagers sat here — only individuals my age and older. The Friday night here was filled with purpose.

Every person there was interested in improvisation.

“Can you practice improvisation?”

“Do you know what you will play before you play it?”

“Can you repeat yourself if you like it?”

“Is there any structure to it? Where does your inspiration come from?”

At some point, I wished the questions would stop. I wanted badly to hear the pianist play.

Nearly 45 minutes into the workshop, after several hints, someone finally asked her to play. She stood up and said, “I feel like a teenager again.” She gestured, “My mother is telling me: go, go play for these people.” In other words, she was not ready to perform for us.

Instead, she asked three volunteers to sit at the pianos. She asked one to start, and the second to join in whenever he felt like it. When the first one takes a break, the third pianist should then enter. It was like a relay duo.

Robert Pollock, the founder of Ebb & Flow Arts, the nonprofit organization which introduces such variety of interesting contemporary and avant garde music to Hawaii, began his improv on the black grand piano. Although the trio had never played together before, they sounded like they knew just what to do. The transitions to different genres were organic and unpretentious. They listened to each other. Each got to lead with their forte. I could almost sense what they were feeling and thinking as they improvised. I felt no anticipation or worry about how long they would play or get out of sync. Amazingly they ended their performance at the same time.

We discussed the improvisation performance. I had forgotten that it was possible to enjoy watching others improvise together.

Years ago, I was invited to an improvisation concert in River Oaks in Houston. I had brought half-the audience. When it was my turn to improvise, I played just the white keys on the Steinway Grand. I didn’t know what to think or say about improvisation then. But tonight, there was much observation and articulation.

It was nearly 9 pm. Lee Pui Ming wanted to stop, but we didn’t. Upon urging of the conservatory’s owner, Ruth Murata, I went to a piano. Lee Pui Ming started tapping an ostinato on the wood of the piano. I barely sat down before I copied her on the piano bench. Then I moved to the keys. She was behind me, so I could only hear her. Another person joined me on the other piano. I crescendo’d and added more fingers, then the palms of my hands, my fists, my elbows. I did clusters all over the keys to a fortissimo. I could sense the audience’s reaction behind me. I was pounding on the piano, like the young boy whom I taught in Utrecht. He had pounded on my piano to vent his frustrations. So did I. The piano suffered. The pianist next to me changed his tune. He wanted to move into a soft, melodic soundscape. I resisted joining him until another pianist went to the 4th piano. I was overpowered. And the world ended in a whisper.

Tomorrow evening, Lee Pui Ming gives a solo performance in a stone church at the very southern beach of Maui. It’s a church I’ve seen from the waters. She wanted to hear the ocean as she plays, so she said.

I want to walk the beach, watch the Summer Solstice sunset, and listen to her improvisations.

Virtuoso pianist in San Francisco loft concert

There is something special about sitting among strangers in someone else’s home. We weren’t here to attend a birthday party or other personal celebration. We all came for the specific goal of experiencing a live performance in a private space.

It reminded me of the last house concert I organized, in which my reward (for organizing the concert) was enjoying the occasion from the first row seat, or rather, just behind the pianist. What did the hosts of tonight consider their reward? In the first half, all the seats were taken. They sat on the last few steps of the staircase. In the second half, they walked downstairs to free up the staircase for two couples and then stood in the kitchen, barely able to see above the others who were standing or sitting.

After the concert, I asked the Austrian lady sitting next to me if she was going to buy the Bulgarian pianist’s CDs. She had not brought any cash other than the $20 suggested donation. I did the same. I only had a credit card left. I suggested that we band together and leave an IOU for the pianist who had 4 CDs for sale. The gentleman next to me bought two. That whetted my appetite and made me want to get a CD.

The Austrian lady shook her head. She said the concert was well worth the $20, but she didn’t think she could fathom an IOU. It was not the custom. Instead she joined the queue to thank her personally.

There was a long line of people wanting to buy her CDs and talk to her. I looked around and observed. I didn’t know anyone except the hosts. Anybody would think that the hosts opened their loft apartment in this part of San Francisco, South of Market, on a regular basis for intimate occasions like this. It was a concert hall in a home.

The owner conceded that he hadn’t organized a concert in 6 months. He even gave the classical music Meet-Up online group that he had started to someone else. Where once organizing house concerts took mainstream in his life, he was now preoccupied with something else, something quite different. It was still community building but it was something much bigger.

“Next time,” I said to the owner, “you will have to open up the balcony seats.” This was the biggest turnout they had ever had. “You have set a standard. People will expect this from now on.”

During the intermission, someone asked him. “How did you know Nadejda?” He looked around and pointed at me. Later someone asked me, “Where is she from?” I didn’t know. I hadn’t met her in person.

I had come to this concert because it was Chong Kee’s invitation and it was the pianist that I had introduced to him via e-mail. In fact, I arranged my travel so that I would return to Maui via San Francisco —- to see her give this concert.

I knew Nadejda Vlaeva would not disappoint from perusing her website and watching her videos. Her discography was impressive, her repertoire outstanding. All this research begged a final resolution — to see her live in concert.

She began the evening telling the story of how little known Johann Sebastian Bach’s music was during the romantic era. Camille Saint-Saens subscribed to his music and transcribed them for his piano students. These became known as Saint-Saens’ Bach transcriptions. In playing the selections, Nadejda made an orchestra out of the piano, ending the 6 piece set with the well-known Overture from Cantata No. 29.

Next she introduced another set of lesser known works. Hans von Bulow dedicated his Carnivale di Milano to a ballerina. The mark of a great pianist is one who makes a difficult piece sound simple, causing the audience relax and enjoy the music. Several people were nodding their heads and moving their bodies, dancing with the rhythmic pulse.

After the intermission, Nadejda shared the challenge of interpreting a piece that was written for her. “Most of the time, I have to choose something to play. But this time the piece chose me.” Lowell Liebermann’s Variations on a Theme by Schubert, Op. 100, began with that simple but melodious Rosaline. Each variation got a bit more adventurous. With that, she brought us to the 21st century.

But then she confessed. She still preferred the Romantic Era. The remaining 3 pieces and 2 encores took us back to that age of nostalgia.

I was probably the last person to get my CDs signed. “Chopin Works for Piano and Orchestra” will be a gift for my mother. “A Treasury of Russian Romantic Piano” contains her first encore — Rebikov’s Musical Snuff Box and her second encore, Liadov’s Prelude in B minor Op. 11 No. 1. I can’t wait to listen to them.

I once heard a fellow classical music connoisseur lament that winners of piano competitions didn’t do so well in intimate, private spaces like house concerts. They don’t train performers to tell stories or develop a rapport with their listeners. Audience engagement is a skill that takes practice. Today’s audience demands more.

Obviously Nadejda is a seasoned performer. She engaged the audience. She made us laugh. This explained the long queue after the concert.

I left at 11 pm, satisfied that the concert hosts were happy.

Boston: the mecca of brain candy and classical music

I wrote on my Facebook that I was visiting Boston for classical music and brain candy. I timed my arrival so I could attend Robert’s solo guitar concert at the New England Conservatory. Little did I realize that Boston had the highest concentration of colleges and universities — and with that, brain candy.

My graduate school classmate Kathryn, who specialized in corporate governance after running several restaurants, coined the term “brain candy.” Our brains need topics to chew on. It’s more fun to share candies than chew alone.

Before Robert’s solo guitar recital began, I recognized someone from a distance. It was the composer Tom Peterson whose piano sonata I had played, recorded, and blogged about. I had last seen him in Phoenix in early November 2010. He lives in Phoenix, Arizona. What was he doing in Boston?

Before Phoenix, Robert and I had invited him to dinner in London where he was finishing his masters degree at the Royal College of Music. Before London, we had met, for the first time, in Cortona, Italy, in July 2007.

As it turned out Tom was in Boston to see the Celtics game that same evening. He had seen the announcement of Robert’s guitar concert on Facebook. He decided to surprise us. Actually he was in this part of the world for another reason — the premiere of a commissioned piano solo piece for the Fisher Prize in New Haven, Connecticut.

Tom, his tuba-player friend, Robert, and I convened at Uno Grill and Bar Restaurant after the recital. We chewed on music for brain candy. When we parted our ways, Robert and I went to yet another concert that day — a string quartet in Jordan Hall.

I don’t think I have had such an in-depth discussion of classical music, composition, and performance since last summer in Utrecht, Netherlands, where we made brain candy out of music.

I have forgotten what it’s like to travel via mass public transit and eavesdrop. In the Netherlands, I could not, but here in Boston I could. On the “T” which is also the oldest metro system in America, I overhear conversations among students, teachers, business people, and tourists. Sometimes I get the urge to join them. Maybe that’s how I’d get more brain candy!

Solo piano sheet music: arrangements and improvisations

I would like to end 2011 with a welcome to 2012 by touching upon piano solo music that is interesting to play.

A few years ago I arranged “Ding Dong Merrily On High” for piano, guitar, and violin. While it was an assignment at conservatory, I nevertheless enjoyed the experience and hoped to see such Christmas arrangements elsewhere. I never got the chance to fully research this.

This Christmas, I needed music. So I began my search.

Borsendorfer, Utrecht Conservatory, Netherlands Photo credit: Olaf Hornes 2007

In preparation for the 2 hour caroling session on the new (old) grand piano at Roselani Place, I looked for Christmas carol arrangements that were atypical of the traditional SATB but interesting and pleasant to play. A good improviser only needs the melody and the chords to produce something fitting of the occasion. Christmas carol from church hymnals are one source for improvisers but not for those who like to read and play something different.

I googled and found Sally DeFord who has made her arrangements freely downloadable from her website at http://www.defordmusic.com She specifically wrote “making copies for non-commercial use is permitted.”

From the university library, I found an album of piano solo arrangements by Jim Brickman. He wrote “The Gift,” which a soprano from the Maui College choir sang to my accompaniment at Roselani Place. I played it again on Christmas Day as a postlude. The congregation at the Christian Science Church where I substituted as pianist for 3 services gave wonderful feedback about my selection. It was Christmas with a new age feel. Certainly, I enjoyed playing carols with a twist.

Daniel Ho, George Kahumoku, Tia Carrere, 15 Dec 2011 Maui

On 15th December 2011 at the McCoy Theatre at the Maui Arts & Cultural Centre, I watched the multi-talented Daniel Ho play guitar, ukelele, piano, and sing. He improvised while accompanying Tia Carrere and George Kahumoku, Jr. Or had he memorised his own arrangements? I couldn’t wait to meet him in person during the intermission. I asked if his improvisations were written down arrangements or actual improvisations he performed. The answer came in the form of an e-mail with a zipped folder of his published works for piano solo, piano with other instruments, ukelele, and slack key guitar.

Now that the Christmas festivities are over, I look forward to studying the arrangements and compositions of Daniel Ho. His book “E Kahe Malie: Hawaiian Piano Instrumentals” contains piano versions of 11 songs spanning 42 pages. His “Colorful Sounds” book presents his own harmonic method he uses in his compositions, arrangements, and performances. It will be the beginning of my quest for arrangements of traditional melodies (in this case, Hawaiian) in different styles.