Replaced by a string quartet

It’s 8 am in London. My next door neighbor starts practising promptly. I have only met his wife who explained yesterday that he had a concert that evening. They moved into this neighborhood, what, 4 ? 5 years ago. Yet I never bothered to get to know them because one of them smokes, perhaps even both, albeit outside. The cigarette smoke drifts into my garden. And for that, I did not bother to get to meet, much less, know this virtuoso Russian concert pianist.

As the “Flight of the Bumble Bee” wears on, I find myself as the beneficiary of live background music. Ten years ago, I housed a young pianist who practised this exact piece every day while I made my move to the Netherlands. I could only imagine what my neighbors experienced through the brick walls.

Just last week, I unpacked my suitcase to the live background music of the classical guitar — Robert practising for his 3 gigs.

The third guitar concert culminated in Mauro Giuliani’s Theme & Variations. It was a piece I knew like the back of my hand. We went through it many times, the guitar struggling to be heard, the piano unresponsive and unsympathetic. After many years of tug and war, I finally relented.

The guitar cannot sound well if the guitarist has to force it to sound louder than the grand piano. Although it is absolutely possible, as Amsterdam-based composer Allan Segall proved in his first piece for piano and guitar, in most other cases the guitar has to struggle and the piano has to give in. The traditional way in which the duo is written assumes the piano is a fortepiano or some other subservient predecessor of today’s modern piano.

So Robert upgraded to a “concert guitar” — built to match the concert grand piano.

But I still had work to do. I had to constantly adjust to the volume and quality of the guitar sound.

There in Williams Hall at the New England Conservatory, on Tuesday 8th May, at approximately 9 pm, Robert performed Giuliani’s work with a string quartet. The four string players, by sheer nature of their instruments, brought out infinitely more color and texture than I could produce with 88 keys. Each of their four strings was a different instrument. They had the bows to help produce sound at different parts of the strings. They could pull, pluck, strum, hit, and more.

I sat back, resigned to my fate.

I had been replaced by a string quartet.

In the simplest case, my right hand was replaced by two violins and the left hand by the viola and cello. Thinking like this, every piano guitar duo piece can result in guitar and a string quartet or wind quartet or other combinations.

My eyes moistened as I thought of the years of preparation that led to this day. The guitarist can go on — playing solo with other instruments.

The pianist?

I’ve sold my Gerhard Adam grand piano in this Victorian cottage where I experimented with chamber music, house concerts, and eventually decided to pursue a degree in music. My Steinway Grand is sitting in a piano shop in Zeist, the Netherlands, waiting to be noticed, tried, and bought.

And I?

I have returned to where it all began. No piano. No audience. No house concert, but neighbor to a concert pianist who practises all day long.

C’est la vie.

Aranjuez Concerto in the garden of the Victorian Cottage in London, July 2002

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.

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.

Art music in Maui: a critical mass of audience for sustainability

Art for art’s sake only may be sustainable in a big city like New York, London, or Amsterdam. But on Maui, where there are plenty of other things to do outdoors, to sit down and watch a concert indoors without coughing or speaking for 2 hours seems a sacrifice if you’re only here for a week.

But if you live on Maui, it’s another story.

What we need on Maui, an island of 727 square miles and population 158,000 with 2 to 3 million annual visitors a year, is a critical mass of an audience for art music. By “art music” I refer to anything from Renaissance to 21st century avant garde music, spanning most of what we know as “classical music.”

When I count the number of classical music concerts at the Maui Arts and Cultural Center (MACC), which is equivalent of the Carnegie Hall of New York City, Concertgebouw of Amsterdam, and Royal Albert Hall of London, it averages one concert per month. And these concerts don’t get sold out either.

Every time I’ve gone to these concerts, I wondered to myself “where’s everybody?” How can they miss Dame Kiri Te Kanawa? How can they miss the San Francisco Pocket Opera? How can they miss the Van Cliburn winner?

How did Elton John sell out a concert and had to add another one the very next day? Elton John was classically trained at the Royal Academy of Music in London.

How did TedxMaui 2012 and 2013 fetch a full-house at the 1,200 seat Castle Theater at the MACC?

A critical mass can be created from a mailing list, the way Gordon Beal, the temptation of London, has done for art music, theatre, art exhibitions, and other events. He made it a “can’t miss” social event. You will not be lost. You will not be alone. You will not waste your time. His e-mails are sent early enough so you can decide if you want to go or not. His e-mails are specific enough so that you will know exactly what you’re getting into, what to wear, what to bring, what to expect.

One of our Monument House Concert Series fans said this of our house concerts: “I don’t need to bring anyone to your concerts. I can go alone because I know I will have a great time and great conversation.”

It’s not so at formal venues. Although the acoustics might be perfect, the performers exquisite, and the music awesome, you will be alone. You won’t interact with anyone else in the audience. There will be cliques — those long-time concert-goers who know each other and feel comfortable in each other’s presence. Unless you are like me, who enjoys going to concerts alone, most people, I daresay, are not like this.

So concert going becomes a social activity. For newcomers to Maui, it could be very attractive if there’s a group that welcomes you — and even better, pre-concert talks that explain the music, composers, and raison d’etre so you will appreciate it at a deeper level.

Tonight, I bring my first group — my 25 piano students and their guests to the Ebb & Flow Arts Concert at the MACC.

TEDxMaui 2013

I was introduced to TED.com a few years ago by a fellow Rotarian in the Netherlands. I’m convinced that it really is an idea worth spreading, and one that needs such a viral introduction at first. I probably would not have stumbled upon it had he not told me about it.

The value of videos on TED.com grows over time because it becomes a database of useful and inspiring presentations & performances all over the world, largely through TEDx. The way the presenters engage and empower the audience on topics that are timeless and yet timely is one reason why it will live on.

We performers have much to learn from its success.

TEDx are produced in different locations around the world. Maui started its own in 2012 with presenters somehow related to Maui or Hawaii.

On Sunday 13th January 2013, I attended the last 3 segments of the TEDxMaui 2013 production at the Castle Theatre of the Maui Arts and Cultural Center (MACC).

I was most impressed by the ability of certain speakers to convey a knowledge or skill that I had originally considered complicated in a way that made me learn and see the beauty of its simplicity. The elder explorer who taught the audience how to navigate the Pacific Ocean by the stars gave us a taste of that extraordinary craft of ancient Polynesians. The Hawaiian musician Mahala made us chuckle and laugh while he showed us the secrets of the slack key guitar, in particular, his view that each of the 6 strings represented a different instrument.

The lights were not off as typical of most performances. They were ON — because the audience was just as important as the performer(s).

Audience engagement is more important now than ever before.

My burning question was this: why was TEDxMaui able to attract a full-house at the 1,200 seat Castle Theater but not Dame Kiri Te Kanawa?

Real-time crisis management of concert performers

Recently I found myself describing the busiest period of our duo’s life as that of real-time crisis management. Each concert was real-time. Each concert held surprises. We could never fully anticipate  what might go wrong. It took a lot of practice (giving concerts) to get good at dealing with the unexpected.

Some things were in our control, such as giving ourselves enough slack to get to the concert venue, but the even the reliable Dutch train system has defied our planning. We always had to get used to the piano at the venue, its interaction with the guitar, and the acoustics of the hall or room. Our performances were never “broadcasts,” except those on radio. They were interactions, for we affected the audience as much as they affected us.  Any number of things could go wrong. Ambient noise and what seemed normal in the venue’s routine (such as the sound of refrigeration) were not acceptable for optimal concert performances. Yet we had to put up with that.

Real-time crisis management implied adjusting to surprises and solving problems on the spot. When a piano leg broke just before our concert in northern Spain, we found a remedy and gave our performance as if nothing was amiss.

Our rule was never to cancel a gig and never be late to a concert. Even when traffic made it nearly impossible, we kept our word, such as the arduous journey in getting to the south of the Netherlands.

In 2008, we gave about 60 piano guitar duo concerts. In 2009, we gave 36. In 2010, we gave 61. These did not include our concerts as soloists or duo or trio with other instruments, including choir.

In 2011, we gave only 3 piano guitar duo concerts. In 2012, none.

During our active concertizing period, our daily routine consisted of practicing by ourselves, rehearsing together, booking concerts, driving to concerts, performing, and returning. The Dutch have a custom of giving fresh bouquet of flowers. During busy periods, we ran out of vases. Some audiences gave us bottles of wine, boxes of chocolates, and even organic produce from their gardens. Our reward was a fine performance with appreciation shown in the audiences’ faces. And of course, the cheque.

Given this sort of lifestyle, i.e. that of real-time crisis management, it’s not surprising that we didn’t have time to look beyond the concert stage.

Piano guitar before a concert

In 2010, it was clear that the Dutch government was going to make generous cuts to the arts. Our orchestral friends were protesting in the streets.

We set a couple of goals. Go to America. Robert would pursue his doctorate in music while I would revamp my career in other areas that would bring more certain income to allow me to live in Maui near my family. What next? We need to learn the art of planning to get there.

5 steps to concert promotion

One of the most read posts in this blog is “Getting people to come to a concert.” Another name for this exercise is audience development. One goal is to get enough people to come to a concert so that your costs are covered and you can even get a return. Another goal is to have these people that come to your concert come to  your next one and, even better, they get others to come.

The first concert may be a lot of work (to promote). Each subsequent concert should get easier. After you’ve built a reputation and a mailing list, you should get a full house every time.

Empty seats before the first concert at the Monument House Utrecht

In the last 10 years of experimenting with different ways to get people to come to my concerts, I’ve identified 5 steps that have worked for me.

1. Identify who you want to come to the concert.
   This is where you have to analyse your audience make-up. In Houston, I brought my colleagues. In London, I invited my neighbors, colleagues, and new contacts. In the case of Monument House Concert Series in Utrecht, Netherlands, I wanted new people to come so that they can experience the authentic house concert tradition. I knew that previous guests would always come because of the sticky nature of such intimate occasions. I also knew the viral nature of word of mouth. But it was getting new people that was the challenge. If I only expected the same people to come every time, our concert goers would have been a clique.
2. Analyse the lure.
   What is the ace of spades? Is it the music? The performer(s)? The composer(s)? The audience? (People want to come to be with other people they expect to see there.) The venue? The occasion? The date/time? (nothing else better to do). The theme? (benefit concert). Identifying the ultimate lure is the key to a yes.
3. Figure out where these folks are located, i.e. how they can be reached.
   You may start with the low hanging fruit, i.e. your family, friends, neighbors, and colleagues. Beyond that, how do you find your audience? Where do they hangout? Music stores? Music libraries? Music colleges? A concert? How about music lovers groups on Linked-In?  ”If it’s fish you’re looking for, why climb trees?”
4. Use the right communication tool.
   Some folks read their emails and act. Some react to newspaper ads. Some listen to the radio. There are online, offline, face-to-face communication methods. You might have to try everything. See “concert promotion by other media.”
5. Write. Rewrite. Format. Reformat.
   A concert invitation is different from an announcement. You have to write to persuade. You may even have to put a personal touch to it. The result you want is action — which leads to a full house and a guestbook that looks like this.

The secret to success is your mailing list. The bigger it is, the higher the chance of drawing an audience. Mailing lists get built over time not over night. This is the subject of yet another blog post.

Piano concert in Zeist, Netherlands

On the other side of the world, I am following what goes on in the Netherlands. This coming Sunday 18th November 2012, there’s a concert in Zeist, not far from Utrecht where I used to live. I can’t get there from Hawaii but I hope my friends will visit. When they do, please also visit the room full of grand pianos.

What lives in Zeist, where the concert will take place, is my beloved Steinway Grand. It’s been tuned, regulated, voiced, and ready for sale at euro 19,500, a far cry from what I listed when I was trying to sell it on my own in Utrecht after I tried to say goodbye.

Steinway Grand for Sale in Zeist, photo: Fokke vd Meer

Sunday 18 November 2012
3 pm

Hanna Shybayeva

• Sergei Rachmaninov: Etudes-Tableaux
• Alberto Ginastera: 12 American Preludes
• Igor Stravinsky: Tango
• Astor Piazzolla: Soledad/ Michelangelo70/ Preludio 195/ Adiós Nonino/ Libertango

‘t PianoPodium

Dijnselburgerlaan 1 hal 20 3705 LP Zeist

The Netherlands

e-mail to reserve  Suggested donation 15 euros.

The monument house for sale

It is a nerve-wracking experience to buy a property for the first time. We both have had our share. When it came to buying a property together, it was one of indecision.

I searched in the Roman city of Utrecht for 5 months alone, online and offline in my broken Dutch, until I narrowed down to 12 properties. The monument house was not on the list. It was too big, too expensive, and not the right shape. But it was the only one Robert was interested in.

The Dutch monument house measured 8 meter by 8 meter – a squarish curiosity that looked small from a distance but hid a spacious basement, generous ground floor, a middle floor of three bedrooms, bathroom, and toilet, and a quirky attic. I thought it was too dark, unsafe (steep staircase), and small inside. But Robert felt a calling. We visited three times before we made an offer in 2005.

Located next to a peaceful lock that runs into the Amsterdam Rijn Canal, which flows into the famous Rhine, the house is part of a row of turn-of-the-century houses built by the Dutch National Water Board for its employees to manage the lock. The monument status meant that we could claim expenses spent on upkeeping the house. In this case, we wanted to restore it to its original spendour. If I were to bring up the old pictures of the house, you wouldn’t recognize it.

On a cold winter’s day in January 2006, we signed the contract and obtained the keys. The previous owners had painted the window frames red (not the uniformly dark green it should be). The ceilings were lowered to window level (beneath the top frame). Despite the inner window between the kitchen and the living room, it was still dark. The upstairs was carpeted and the walls were adorned with colourful dinosaurs and other fairytale creatures. The back garden was fully exposed to the elements, including smokers who walked by and interrupted our conversation in mid-sentence. There was no security in the back as we were outside the communal gate. Anybody could walk in. The noise from the side street and beyond carried over the apple tree.

For the first 5 months, Robert lived alone, busily stripping out the old pinewood floors, inner doors, and ceilings. There was not a square inch of surface that he did not touch. In the afternoons he would go teach at the music school near the western coast. Once a week, I’d visit him from Bussum. Each time, I’d get a shock.

Something was always different. Once the ceiling was missing. Another time, the floor was gone. By the second month, we both felt the cashflow draining from a future that had no end in sight.

The ground floor seemed to take forever, and the euros was going out the door at an alarming rate.

“Let’s rent out a room,” I said.

This meant renovating the middle floor, one that we had agreed to leave untouched. And so the dust started to rise, from the ground floor upwards. Robert carved a little kitchenette from the master bedroom so that he could knock out the downstairs kitchen. Before long, the renovation had become a grand affair.

We found Brendan from northern England. He only needed a room for four days a week because of his commute. We were surprised that he took pictures of the as-yet-unfinished house. The skip in the front was not a pretty sight. Yet he seemed very pleased to have found a place that was within cycling distance of his office.

Renovating a house follows Pareto’s rule: the first 20% of effort is expended on 80% of what you see. The remaining 80% of effort is on the nitty gritty details, the 20% you don’t notice. It’s that remaining 20% you don’t notice that makes you feel uncomfortable.

For the next few years, we lived in a house that never felt truly finished.

The cordless power drill showed up at breakfast. A few loose screws accompanied our daily existence. The corners were not smoothed. The door handles fell off. We could not sit firmly on the toilet seat. It wobbled.

By mid-May, nearly done with my second year at Utrecht Conservatory, I was eager to move into the house and contribute to what I thought would be the final touches. By then we had two housemates — Brendan from northern England and German from Barcelona. It was the only way we could afford it, with Robert’s not-quite full-time teaching salary and my negative salary as a full-time student.

At the end of June 2006, we gave a week’s notice to our friends and held a house warming party. Over 70 people came, mostly musicians. We were all curious how the acoustics sounded.

In early July, we launched the Monument House Concert Series with a violin guitar concert by Duo 46. One of the two photographers took photos of not only the performers but also members of the audience.

Besides committing to two house concerts per year, we organized events such as yoga, Chinese banquet, self-expression workshops, impromptu concerts, piano recitals, and numerous barbecues. Looking back, it was a house full of action and activities, with guests visiting to stay or play.

Barely a year after settling into the monument house, Robert started a new hobby: brewing his own beer. To serve his beer, he designed the Monument House Glass Mug, good for cold and hot drinks. He experimented with grains and other ingredients until he started to plant and harvest his own hops.

Once the monument house was more or less renovated, we decided to do something about the back garden. “Let’s rip out the apple tree, the fence, and the shed and replace all that with a garden house,” I said. “An atelier,” said he.

We wanted to enjoy the garden with the privacy and security afforded by a structure that blocked the side traffic and bitter north wind. We also wanted a place that we could play music without disturbing our neighbours. We were naive to think that we could build a sound proof space. It was a formiddable task that required creative design and clever financing.

I had another year (my 4th and final year) to go. 2007-2008 became the most challenging year — the garden house, the trip to the USA — duo for export benefit concert, and my chamber opera premiere. Once we hired the builders, there was no turning back.

When the structure of the garden house was nearly complete, Robert and his student Onno dug out the back garden and located the sewer. [To be continued]

Reasons for attending a concert in Maui

In Maui, where classical concerts are few and far between, the place to meet other classical music aficionados is at such events.

Today, Haydn’s The Creation is being performed at the Maui Arts and Cultural Center (MACC). The MACC is to Maui as the Concertgebouw is to Amsterdam and Carnegie Hall to New York.

The soloists, a large choir, and an orchestra were put together specifically for this grand work. It is happening right now —- as I type. Why am I not on stage or in the audience?

For someone as keen on music as I am, I should be at every such event at the MACC or elsewhere on Maui. To find myself writing this blog instead of attending this concert is baffling.

I had toyed with the thought of going there. I was asked to substitute as accompanist for a few sessions but my workload prevented a resounding “yes, I’d love to do it.” I next heard of it when several singers mentioned the performance. Eventually I brought up the subject in conversation.

It would be a simple $25 to secure a seat. I had asked my mother if she wanted to go. She wasn’t sure. Someone else invited me to go with her family. My initial yes changed to a no later in the week. The thought of going with others to an event was very appealing. I could even make a date of it with any number of other “single” music lovers.

Why this vacillation? Why not a definite commitment?

As this is the only concert in town —- the only remotely classical work on the island of Maui for a month, it seems obvious for all who appreciate classical music to attend it.

If I were hungry for classical music, I would go to this one-off event — Sunday 19th August 3:30 pm at the Castle Theatre at the MACC. As the theatre seats 1,200 people, there is little risk of selling out.

There I would meet other musicians, classical music connoisseurs, on stage or in the audience. It would be the world I belong to and the one I have been accustomed to.

There lies the rub.

I am not hungry enough for classical music to give up my Sunday afternoon. Now I am beginning to understand why it is so hard to get people to come to a concert. If it’s not a free concert, one weighs all these other activities that are equally or even more compelling. For me, sitting outside, typing on my iPad keyboard, with a cold glass of homemade iced tea is far more relaxing and worthwhile than sitting indoors among strangers in a cold, air-conditioned hall for 2 hours. How often during the week do I get to sit outside? None.