Master class with Matt Haimovitz

Today was a good day. I played Elliott Carter's "Figment" for Matt Haimovitz, who is pretty much my favorite living cellist. He has become famous for playing solo cello gigs at non-traditional venues such as night clubs, rock clubs, and other random places. I heard an album he recorded in 1992 featuring works by Britten, Ligeti, Hindemith, and an assortment of other 20th-century composers and it pretty much changed my whole view of cello (in a good way). Anyway, he gave a masterclass at Longy today and I was fortunate enough to play for him! It was kind of sucky to sit for 1.5 hours while other people played and then BAM, dive into "Figment," but it got easier as it went along.

I also had slept 3.5 hours last night thinking about the master class. I wasn't really nervous...it was just that my stupid brain would not shut the hell up. I had a rehearsal for Shostakovich Piano Trio at 1pm (which got delayed due to not being able to find a fucking open room), and then I realized that I was more tired than I had been in a long while, so I went home. I crashed at about 4PM, fully dressed, and woke up at 6:30PM in a little puddle of my own drool. It was quite fabulous. This is an unusual occurrence, this whole nap thing, as I take about 3-5 a year. This was number 2. Anyway, I was very confused when I woke up because I thought it was 6:30 AM. I turned on the radio and learned it was in fact 6:30 PM. "Oh, that's good," I thought. "I have a paper due in the morning for my Baroque class, which I have not started, so I should probably do that." So I did.

Then I made a tiny little kangaroo (which is cooling off at the moment) out of the tiny bits of clay that I have left. I'm running out. And I won't be able to buy more until I get paid some more $ because I'm way po' at the moment. Anyway, the tiny kangaroo comes with an even TINIER purple baby kangaroo and I can't wait to glaze it and take glamour shots of it because it's just too cute. Ha.

Been making stuff....

Since the erection of the new Etsy Constitution, I have been inspired to make a somewhat naughty piece. Well, the first one I made before people got psycho about censorship of "mature" items:



Then I went a tad further and made a little nude sculpture:



Her name is Sarah B. Wilkinson. Her bio can be found on my Etsy page, yet I have conveniently included it here:

HOTTEST NUDE Polymer Clay Super-Model~~

This is Sarah B. Wilkinson, and she loves hanging out naked. Although she doesn't like being completely naked, as she is sporting a hat, earrings, and a necklace. She is just glowing with excitement, as you can see from the little glitter sparkles emanating from her chocolate-colored flesh. I haven't asked her, but I've got a hunch that she had a really good night.

Sarah B. Wilkinson measures 3.25" from hand to toe (in the reclined position) and is about 2" from her bum to her head. Her limbs are supported with metal wires so that she doesn't fall apart (like in clay-matian).

Hehe....

In other Etsy news, I sold my Pig Pin:



That made me happy. :) :)

Hearing and Not Listening

This is something that occurs too often. For non-musicians, this may seem like a surprising concept. However, people who can hear but do not listen are often found sitting in orchestras and chamber music groups. So much of what is taught in music is about how to make your instrument function properly. This is very important, yet the education cannot stop there. The "why" factor is not answered or questioned often enough. "Play with curved fingers." OK, why? Because it looks nice? Well, no. Curved fingers will get you the most clarity (on a stringed instrument) in fast passage work. It SOUNDS the best, it is the most musical way to tackle a specific gesture, and it works. How about a slow melodic passage? Should your fingers intersect the string at a right angle? Well, perhaps, but it sounds bad. Why? Well, most people don't even notice this fact. It is because playing at a right angle to the string involves playing with the smallest amount of pad on the fingerboard, causing a long note to sound thin and have no over-tones. Playing with MORE pad of the finger allows a longer portion of the string to be in contact with the fingerboard, allowing the instrument to resonate and produce beautiful over-tones. So how do you get more pad of your finger on the string? Well, it depends on your hand. If you have big honking fingertips, you're in luck. But if your fingers are thin, you'll have to flatten the top joint a bit. Sure it "looks bad," but if it sounds good, who the hell cares? The SOUND is the what matters.

Listening to oneself is where the music begins. It is crucial for a musician to be aware of how they sound on their individual instrument in order to play with others. When a string quartet is trying to fix intonation of a particularly gnarly passage, it is not wise to play it slowly and loudly. It is important to play softly yet with a core sound in order to hear everyone and make necessary adjustments.

I had an interesting experience in orchestra yesterday. We were doing string sectionals, and Terry King (my teacher) and Laura Bossert (his wife, who is a violin teacher at Longy and I consider her to be my second teacher) were leading the ensemble. It was revealed to me that very few people were listening. Sure the violinists were great as individuals, but when they were asked to play together, it was a total mess. This was also very depressing. Terry and Laura were very disappointed because this was an indication that the orchestra did not know how to listen. I spoke with Terry during break, and he said, "I can't fix everything. All I can do is shine a mirror to them and hope that they can do the necessary work to make changes." It kills me to play in a mediocre orchestra, because I know that it feels great to play in a great orchestra. Granted, this has only happened a few times, and my heart is not set on being an orchestral cellist in the future, but it would certainly be nice to WANT to WANT to be in an orchestra where everyone is on the same page.

Hrmph.