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.

Classic FM London in Maui

With internet radio, I can listen to practically any station in the world anywhere.

This morning I’m listening to one of my favourite stations — Classic FM. It’s the station that accompanied those years I lived in London, educated me the composers and their works that laid the foundation for my interest in classical music. I had Classic FM Radio on all the time — first as background music and then as a necessity to my daily life.

Later when I studied music history in Utrecht, Netherlands, I learned to appreciate how accessible the radio programmers made the music to the audience.

Today I am in my home in Maui — a sunny day like any other. The outdoor washing machine is on. I am indecisive about going swimming. The day is young. I switch on to Classic FM at 10 am HST: David Mellor’s special edition of St Patrick’s Day tribute. It ended with an orchestral arrangement of “Old MacDonald Had a Farm”

Thereafter John Suchet presented Beethoven: The Man Revealed. His perspective was from that of Beethoven in love. Each time he fell in love, he wrote a piece. The stories behind the Moonlight Sonata, the Appassionata Sonata, and Fur Elise are simply fascinating.

Listening to Classic FM London in Hawaii makes me realise that it’s possible to have the best of both worlds.

I find myself doing my filing and my chores as background to active listening of Classic FM from London.

Comfortable with unfamiliar music

Very few people, I daresay, would spend money to hear music they’ve never heard of, written by composers they don’t know, and performed by artists unknown to them. The risk of discomfort and a waste of their time and money is too high. Even fewer people would venture alone to a venue they’ve never visited before to experience the complete unknown.

You lower that risk by going with a group that’s comfortable and familiar to you, led by someone whose authority and expertise you respect.

There are too many other ways to spend your time and money that will give you the certainty of joy, pleasure, and positive value you expect.

I challenge my piano students to broaden their horizons and listen to music that is unfamiliar. They think that unfamiliar music means unknown pop songs or unknown piano sonatas. I tell them that everything they’ve heard and played so far is tonal and consonant.  What? What else is there?

Atonal. Pan tonal. Dissonant. Unfamiliar.

They have no point of reference. How do you listen to music that’s unfamiliar and possibly dissonant?

Does music have to be explained?

I say YES — a resounding YES!

Unless you are the composer or the performer, it could be your first exposure to it — and you do need a reference.

In composition class, our teachers introduced music that was unfamiliar. We followed the scores and learned the techniques of composition. In music history class, we learned to appreciate music of dead composers. In theory class, we analysed them. Perhaps it’s time I introduce unfamiliar music for my students to play so that their ears do not compensate for what they cannot read or play properly (yet).

Step out of your comfort zone and embrace the unfamiliar — how else will you learn?

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.

Materialism and the art of letting go

In this age of post-911, post-2008 financial meltdown, nobody likes to be described as “materialistic.”

When I was trying to decide whether to stay in London or move to the Netherlands, my friend Jackie observed,”You’re not materialistic, Anne. What are you going to do with all the money you earn?” With that, I decided to stop earning money and earn time. I moved to the Netherlands to study music.

Sightreading thesis and piano duet sheet music, San Francisco, May 2011

Today I reassured a friend who made shopping a ritual: “You’re not materialistic. You are sentimental. You are attached to what the things represent. You want quality things. So you take your time.”

Equally, I have asked myself why I should find it so difficult to let go of things when I have been described as being NOT materialistic.

In 2003, I threw an open house one weekend to sell my things so I could leave London with less luggage. The only things I moved to the Netherlands were my sheet music, Laura Ashley dresses, and house plants.

Now I need to do the same with all that I have accumulated in the Netherlands. But every time I see something I recognise, like the photograph of a hand-made white vase for a single rose, I’m reminded of where it came from and how it came to be. It’s a present for such and such occasion. It was given under such circumstances. Because it’s a gift, I should not sell it or give it away. But why should I keep it?

A physical object may remind us of an occasion, a relationship, a conversation, a place, or a moment in time. When we attach ourselves to an object, we are relating to all that it represents.

When we walk into a stranger’s home, nothing has history or represents anything meaningful to us. In contrast, our own homes are full of objects that bear meaning.

Buddhism talks about detachment and emptying oneself. I never understood it until now. Why be owned by what we own? Should we be slaves to objects? I would rather spend my time with people and talk about ideas. How can we detach ourselves from objects that consume our time?

Clean up your house. Adorn the walls with unfamiliar art work. Play music you’ve never heard of before. Distance yourself from what is familiar, or make what is familiar unfamiliar by all these measures. Detach yourself. These are the ways to help you let go of what was once dear to you.

Is it regret that you fear? That if you let go, you will regret doing so?

I have a dozen boxes of sheet music that took 20 to 30 years to collect — an activity I rewarded myself in the basement of a bookstore in London. The music is worth nothing to anyone else but everything to me. How can I possibly let it go?

Independence Day

It’s 4th of July 2012 — my first in the USA in many years. The tweets I’m getting not only celebrate Independence Day but also energy independence. Wean ourselves off oil and gasoline. Welcome electric cars!

In thinking about independence, I also think about words like co-dependence. Financial independence. Emotional independence or detachment.

Are we ever really independent?

In chamber music, each instrument is an independent entity, producing an independent sound. The combined result, however, relies heavily on blending. This blending of independent sounds requires each musician to listen to each other and adjust to each other.

When we first started rehearsing Morton Feldman’s music for several pianos, we were only told to start together (the same note) and try to end together after 7 minutes. Although we were all following the same score, we decided on when and how long to play each note. We more or less tried to listen to each other to make sure we didn’t all play at the same time (after the first note). Ironically, at our last rehearsal, we were told that the composer did not want us to listen to each other at all. He did not want us to be affected by what others played, only to start at the same time and end after 7 minutes. We all had to play softly, so that the music sounded like echoes or ripples.

As for electric cars, by weaning ourselves off gasoline, we become dependent on electricity, which is generated from several other energy sources. Do we become more independent or dependent? At least we are not throwing all our eggs in one basket, ….. but in several baskets.

Academy Awards Concert

Over the years, I’ve collected quite a portfolio of music to suit all occasions. Music from movies, in particular, fits well as background and foreground music. I’ve used several in my most recent concert on Valentine’s Day, for love songs proliferate radio, TV, and cinema.

To precede tomorrow’s Academy Awards ceremony, I decided to put together a concert of movie themes.

At first, I selected works I have and love. These include classical pieces that existed well before their being chosen for the movies. Chopin’s famous posthumous nocturne in C-sharp minor was used in “The Pianist” and Rachmaninoff’s piano solo from the “18th Variation on a Theme of Paganini” was played many times in the movie “Somewhere in Time.” More recently, Debussy’s “Clair de Lune” was strategically placed in “Twilight.” There are countless classical works that preceded the movies and whose composers, long dead, never saw the light of day to receive royalties or recognition. Yet somehow these movies revive those classical works, bringing them new context and new audiences.

That was my initial idea — to introduce instrumental music that inherit new meaning as a result of their selection and placement in movies. After hearing Bach’s harpsichord concerto in “Hannah and Her Sisters” one may associate that piece only with that movie, for instance.

To counter pre-existent music chosen for film, I intended to also play music written specifically for movies which take on a life of their own. For instance, Whitney Houston made Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You” more famous than the original version and the movie it was used in — “The Body Guard.” It stands separately as a song in its own right. Other songs written for film have gone to hit the charts as singles the world over.

Then there is the specific genre of so-called “film music.” You’d recognise it when you hear it. Some of my fellow composition classmates at the KMT (Kunst Media Technologie in Hilversum, Netherlands) wrote such music and aspired to continue doing so after they graduated. I was impressed how they, after only a few years of study, managed to score orchestral music that echoed a familiarity not distant from James Horner and John Williams. For many composers, film music is the breeding ground for new compositions.

When I sat down to put together my one hour programme for tomorrow afternoon’s concert, I discovered that I had enough music to cover just the Oscar winners of best original score and song. There was no need to include the nominees that did not win or works that did not get nominated or works of movies that did not get nominated at all.

I wanted to play Dan Coates’ wonderful piano solo arrangement of “Miss Celie’s Blues” from the movie “The Color Purple.” But that 1985 nomination lost to “Say You, Say Me” from “White Knights.” In the end, I decided that I really should propose another concert — Music from Movies for Mother’s Day — to include all those works I had prepared but discarded for tomorrow’s Oscars.

The programme for the Academy Awards Concert at Roselani Place in Maui goes as follows:

• 70th Academy Awards Winner of Best Original Score – 1997 – “My Heart Will Go On” from Titanic
• 65th Winner – 1992 – “A Whole New World” from Aladdin
• 54th Winner – 1981 – “Arthur’s Theme: Best That You Can Do” from Arthur
• 49th Winner – 1976 – “Evergreen” from A Star is Born
• 46th Winner – 1973 – “The Way We Were” from The Way We Were
• 43rd Winner – 1970 – “Love Story” from Love Story
• 42nd Winner – 1969 – “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head” from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
• 38th Winner – 1965 – “Lara’s Theme” from Doctor Zhivago
• 38th Winner – 1965 – (Scoring of Music – adaptation or treatment) The Sound of Music
• 29th Winner – 1956 – “Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que Sera, Sera)” from The Man Who Knew Too Much
• 12th Winner – 1939 – “Over the Rainbow” from The Wizard of Oz

I have several arrangements of “Over the Rainbow” – from Dan Coates’ arpeggiated piano solo to a jazzy soul version, one by Keith Jarrett, and ultimately, the ukelele version by Iz which stayed at number 1 in Germany for 12 non-consecutive weeks in 2010. It’s a nice way to end an afternoon in central Maui.

Programming music like planning a menu

It occurred to me, while choosing music for my forthcoming Valentine’s Day Concert, that the process of programming a concert is not dissimilar to planning a menu.

One is constantly thinking of the audience (guests). Will they like and appreciate what they hear (taste)? What is the theme? Should there be one? What should we begin with? Something to warm up, open up their hearing (taste buds), etc. What’s the right balance of the familiar (safe) and unfamiliar (new but risky)? What should be the order? Alternating fast – slow – fast – slow (cold vs hot; salty vs sweet; wet vs dry). What is the right number of pieces (courses)? How long should each piece be?

As I ponder over the choice of work, I remember a research study I had conducted with a Swedish violinist on programming music for elderly audiences. It’s not about tempo but everything about mood. What kind of mood do we want to convey to the audience?

Does the chef think of evoking feelings or memories in the guests who taste his menu?

Once upon a time I was told to programme music chronologically, for that’s how music has evolved. Begin with a piece from the Baroque Era, move through the Classical Period, Romantic Era, before braving the new world with a contemporary piece of a living composer. This is the not only formula.

I have examined the order of pieces in the concerts I’ve attended. Sometimes it’s good to start with an unfamiliar piece, even one from an unknown, living composer. Enough unfamiliar pieces call for a resolution of the unknown to a convergence in the familiar. Take the audience back to their comfort zone.

Probably one of the most powerful concerts is one in which the pieces are connected, via a common thread or storyline following a theme.

I should speak to a chef whether programming music really is like planning a menu.

Stepping up to yes I can

When I saw the following picture on Facebook, I couldn’t resist posting a blog about its applicability to education.

From I won't do it to Yes, I did it

When required to do it, many of my math students arrive the first day of class with the  attitude of  ”I can’t do it.” They have to take math which is a pre-requisite. My goal is to get them to realize that they can do it.

My piano students, on the other hand, arrive with “I want to do it” written all over their faces. These are not music majors so they are not required to take piano. While a humanities elective may be required for their major, they had the freedom to choose music, art, and other subjects. Even within music, they had a choice of guitar, ukelele, choir, and other courses besides piano.

To me, it’s a matter of empowering my students to believe that they can do it. Look at all the steps from “I won’t do it” to “I can do it.” That’s a lot of convincing.

Some are born with the belief that they can do anything.

Others like my mother give the excuse that they can’t do it. What they really mean is that they don’t want to do it. Or so I tell my mom. You’re allowed to say no after a lifetime of yes.

As for me, I’m so used to wanting to do everything that I have to tell myself “don’t do it.” After stepping up to “Yes, I did it. And done that” I have to now sit on the ground floor, and say, “No, no, no! Don’t make me do it.”

Food for thought.

Teaching piano, teaching music

I described what I’m doing in my evening piano class to the husband of a colleague, both music aficionados.

“I teach my students to play the chromatic scale one hand at a time. The right hand goes up using the thumb and third finger. The left hand goes down. At the next lecture, I demonstrate the application with Flight of the Bumble Bee.”

“I tell them about pentatonic scales and exotic scales. I give them the formula for major scales: whole step, whole step, half-step, whole, whole, whole, half-step. I also have them listen to major vs non-major scales as I play them on the piano. I play the last movement of Vivaldi’s Summer from the Four Seasons and I ask them to count the scales.”

“I plan to teach them the Circle of Fifths with respect to Pachelbel’s Canon in D. That’s also useful to demonstrate descending bass line. “

My colleague’s husband responded with awe. “And you say this is a beginning piano class? Seems to me you are teaching them music!”

I replied, “Yes, I guess you are right. By the end of the semester, they will have not only learned how to play piano but how to look at music differently. I want them to overcome stage fright, build self-confidence, learn to conduct, learn to play and work with each other, appreciate different kinds of music, listen, analyse as in identifying patterns before they start to read the music to play, and so much more.”