A "Night" with a Nobel Prize Winner

Monday evening, I had the privilege to attend a discussion with Nobel Peace Prize winning author and Holocaust survivor, Elie Wiesel. He is best known for his book, Night, which I read during High School for an English course.  I remember being profoundly moved by the book about a Jewish youth who recounts the horrors of being in a concentration camp during the Holocaust.

The event was held in the sold-out Orpheum Theatre of Vancouver (holding roughly 3000 people.) Normally, the Orpheum is where I attend Vancouver Symphony Orchestra concerts. Nonetheless, it is fitting that Dr. Wiesel presented here because music has played a huge role in his life. He did, after all, study the violin.  The book Night even includes a passage about a violin being played during a death march.

"I was thinking of this when I heard the sound of a violin. The sound of a violin, in this dark shed, where the dead were heaped on the living. What madman could be playing the violin here, at the brink of his own grave? Or was it really an hallucination" 

Clearly, music played such a fundamental part in the author's life that it was included in this book as well. The first topic that Dr. Wiesel discussed with the moderator was, in fact, music. 

He recounted warm and humorous tales of his childhood learning the violin. Dr. Wiesel revealed that when he writes, he writes to quartets or quintets. Symphonies are far too distracting, he claimed.  The intimate nature of the string quartet also lends itself perfectly to the art of writing.

Wiesel explained why he writes. His philosophy is the following: "Remember, for there is, there must be, hope in remembering." It took Wiesel 10 years after the Holocaust had ended to break his vow of silence. He realised, however, that what would he be without his memory?  We are, after all, what we remember. Dr. Wiesel had horrific memories from his experience in the death camps but knew that he was ultimately responsible for what he did with those memories. What would he do with that memory that would improve the condition of the world in which we live? As he explained, "If I don't remember, I disappear. At the end, you'll forget yourself."

Dr. Wiesel discussed that his task as a writer was to honour the memory of Holocaust survivors, "to collect their tears, collect them into a story so that their tears become a testimony." The courage that it must take to write and craft an art from such darkness is difficult to imagine. Admittedly, Dr. Wiesel is a deeply religious man and ascribes a great deal of his strength to his Jewish faith.

I am almost certain that Dr. Wiesel enjoys the Beethoven string quartets so that is the music that I have chosen to accompany this entry.  In fact, a family that had attended this event, took the same bus as me and we entered into a great discussion about what music might be playing as Dr. Wiesel writes.  (Apparently, he wakes up at 5 am to write four hours of fiction each day.) I have selected three slow movements from the string quartets that I feel best represent what I learned this evening.  The three selections are from each of Beethoven's three compositional periods: the early, middle, and late periods.

The first selection is from opus 18, no. 1.  This is perhaps some of the most unrelentingly sad music that Beethoven composed. This second movement is a stark contrast from the bright, hopeful first movement that precedes it. It begins with a sorrowful melody but does seem to visit a happier, more nostalgic time in Beethoven's life and some lighter passages are played.  Nonetheless, Beethoven does not let the listener linger for too long in those sweet remembrances. There is never any doubt as to the movement’s ultimate message.  This piece conveys a deep pain that is simply part of the human condition.  I still maintain that this is the most profound writing of his early compositional period.

The second selection is from opus 59, no. 2. This slow movement from the well-known e minor quartet is deeply reflective and has a sense of peace. The thick texture created by sustained notes adds emotional depth to this sublime movement of quartet literature. This is Beethoven at his most sensitive. The violin often gets melodic passages which allude to sweet memories of youth.

The third selection is the stunning third movement from opus 135. The String Quartet in F, opus 135, was the last complete work Beethoven composed, only a few months before his death in March 1827.  It  is the work of a composer who seems to have suddenly attained some new, simple truth after miles of struggle.  The third movement resembles a whispered prayer in the dark.  It is a movement that

overflows with forgiveness and love, but is also full of great sadness.  

These movements from the Beethoven quartets are glimpses into the human condition at various points. Each of them strongly evokes a sense of memory and nostalgia.  Both Beethoven and Wiesel had the courage to present an aspect of humanity that is dark but is in fact - very real.  If one were to ignore the sadness, does that do honour to one's memories and experiences? Wiesel would likely argue not. 

Music serves as a powerful connection to many of my most precious memories.  The more I experience in this life, the more meaningful each piece of music becomes.  I hear more in the notes that the composers have written. I am increasingly grateful for this new understanding that only comes with experience and age.  Truthfully, I can not imagine the anguish that Dr. Wiesel must experience when listening to certain compositions, but I was completely inspired by how he has decided to turn the atrocities he witnessed into an art form that encourages the world to think critically about prejudice, racism, and hatred.  Through his books, Wiesel is pushing our society toward critical thinking about how we will remember the past in order to improve the future. One can not help but be in awe of how he turned such an incredibly negative situation into a beautiful artistic expression through his novels.  The struggles and sadnesses that Beethoven endured in his life find that same expression in the string quartet movements that I have selected. They are a testament that it is acceptable to grieve, remember, and to remember with intention so that the future is improved.

Life is not made of years. Life is made of moments. At the end its the sum of moments that makes our weight." - Elie Wiesel (September 10, 2012 - Vancouver, BC)

Pictures at a Classroom Exhibition

The two things closest to my heart as a classroom educator are literacy and music appreciation.  Today, I had a chance to combine these two passions. I unashamedly snuck in some classical music into the students' day. Oh, and did I mention it was Pictures at an Exhibition by Modest Mussorgsky? Russian virtuosity for the win! (I had to introduce them slowly before we get to Rachmaninoff...)

Children are in a process of learning how to cope with emotions, changes in life, and the healthy outlets that they can use to do so.  Certainly music has served as a major way in which I have experienced my emotions in a healthy way and expressed what it means to be human on the deepest level.

When I thought of Pictures of Exhibition, I wasn't sure how to relate it to the children's lives. They didn't grow up in Tsarist Russia (pity!) Then, I remembered why Mussorgsky wrote this great work. He was devastated over the death of his artist friend, Victor Hartmann.  As an hommage to his friend and a way to cope with his grief, Mussorgsky composed this masterful work for solo piano.

I chose a simple storybook that told the tale of how Mussorgsky was friends with Hartmann and was shook deeply by his sudden death.  A critical component of the lesson was connecting what Mussorgsky was experiencing with the children's lives. Some identified with his grief and others simply stated that sometimes they too needed outlets to express their "sad feelings" but were not quite sure how.

One way that an educator or adult could get children to connect with the story behind Pictures at an Exhibition is to get them to identify fine arts activities which they enjoy. Many tiny hands shot up when I asked: "Who here likes to paint?" or "who likes to draw?" They understood that humans express themselves through visual art.  Many even grasped that Mussorgsky could portray those visual expressions through sound. Indeed, many of the students were able to vividly imagine each scene being "painted" by Mussorgsky when I revealed the title of various movements. (Yes, I played the piano version for them as I read the story of how Mussorgsky came to write Pictures at an Exhibition.)

This virtuosic piece of piano music is so rich and colourful and narrative that it is a great starting point for children in learning about classical music. The reaction of the boys in my class was particularly remarkable since they were impressed by the true athleticism required by a pianist to play the more technically demanding passages of this work.

Mussorgsky's motivation for writing Pictures at an Exhibition is a story of how the arts are fundamental to human life. We use them to express the deepest scars that grief leaves on us.  In a time when arts funding in schools is the first thing to be cut, it is now often the role of the classroom teacher to bring this aspect of a child's education alive.

My earnest hope is that the children grasped that they can turn to their preferred art form in times of joy,  trial, and tribulation. I look forward to the rest of the year with this creative group and cultivating their interests - helping them to become increasingly comfortable with showing their individuality and allowing their feelings to be explored through the fine arts. After all, isn't that what it is to be human?

Survival 2.0: Classical music should try this or else...

The audiences have grey hair, canes, and senior discounts. A majority of the audience members at classical concerts or recitals have retired.  Sure, there is a smattering of young people present and some parents bring their children to the symphony or to Lang Lang.  However, the general trend has been toward an aging audience in classical music concert venues. Which begs the question that I ask everytime I attend a concert...

Who is going to be the next generation of classical music listeners?

Why should young people even care about this music?  More importantly, why should arts program administrators be concerned that young people care? Well, quite frankly, the very survival of this beloved art form depends on it. 

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to attend a videoconference by Rob Kapilow, sponsored by the American Consulate in Ottawa, which may have provided, in part, a viable solution.  The solution? Bring classical music TO people. Do not expect people to come to classical music.  Do you see the difference?  Let me elaborate.  

Kapilow's premise is that all people, when they hear the great works of classical music, will love them.  Inside of these works that we cherish is something inherent that will touch the human soul.  That is not to claim that all works of classical music will touch each person deeply or in the same manner.  However, on a program for a recital or concert there will be at least one piece that does its job correctly and communicates to that listener.  We have all experienced this works influence on our own hearts and lives.  Do we trust that the music has the power to transform on its own? 

Sure, you would respond.  The music is the agent of change.  Now, what remains is how do we get a wider variety of people experiencing this?  The answer is not simple and the solution does require some degree of funding (a topic upon which a BOOK could be written so I'll refrain here).  However, Kapilow suggests that we bring music to people, not people to music.  We are very proficient at marketing our events, spreading the good word on social media, and generally advertising. Nonetheless, that modus operandi assumes that people will respond to those invitations.  

What if people were not invited? What if we invited ourselves to inject music into their day or to bring the music we so deeply value to their community or context?  What would that look like?  What would the venue's appearance be?  I hope by this point, your imagination has moved beyond the traditonal concert hall.  A concert in a playground? Why not.  That's simply one example. The Met Opera in NY has completely got this right with their Live in HD broadcasts.  Not all of us are able to attend Met Opera performances in Lincoln Center (trust me, I wish).  However, the Met Opera has brought opera to us in a way that is completely unconventional and to be honest, truly amazing.  So, you're telling me I can eat popcorn AND laugh loudly at Papageno's antics at the same time? Brilliant!  Make the concert event convenient for your audience logistically.  This includes considerations for time and location.  Also, need I mention that ticket prices must be reasonable?

I would like to implore arts administrators and concert organisers to rethink their strategy in this regard.  Let's be unconventional because we have the creative capacity to be so! Performers, take responsibilty for how the audience hears your music.  Teachers, do not talk down to children when discussing music. Use technical terms because I promise you, they understand far more than we initially assume.  

One can argue that children are enrolled in music lessons and that these students will turn into music lovers and concert-attending adults. Yes, this is true but with the cost of music lessons, I would not depend on that avenue. 

To conclude, I am going to leave you, dear reader, with a few thoughts about music in society.  We should start to see music as a tool that can engage society in a real conversation.  Moreover, we should trust that every person has some degree of musical intuition.  Trust the music to do the rest.  As Walt Whitman said, "to have great poets, there must be great audiences."

I leave you with a piece that is touching my heart recently. How would you bring this sublime music to an audience that normally would not hear this work?

The Classical Class!

Last week, one of my student's mums said to me: "Each night, before bedtime, my son asks for the music...the music that Madame West plays in class - the classical music." My heart rejoiced! I smiled humbly but inside was wanting to jump for joy. These students are enjoying the music that I play for them! 

Not all of the 8 and 9 year olds I teach love it.  However, some who started by being unsure of it now enjoy it and react appropriately to it. (Read: they no longer make bizarre facial gestures.)

Here are some of our calming favourites for the classroom.  I've put them in order of how I would introduce them to the class

All children LOVE animals...so yes, Saints-Saens comes first!

Camille Saints-Saens: Carnaval des Animaux

I definitely recommend getting the students to construct interpretive dances to go with each animal or scene. Ask students to point out specific musical features of each animal. As a child, I was enchanted by the Aquarium section of this piece.  

Beethoven: Symphony no. 3, Eroica

Every child comes to school with a different life story.  Some of the most courageous and heroic people that I have ever known are my students.  Like Beethoven, they have faced adversity and overcome many obstacles.  My class simply adored the big, rich symphonic sound of this piece. (Who can blame them?)  I chose a complete recording: Bernstein, Vienna Philharmonic - phenomenal.

Vivaldi: Null in mundo pax sincero, RV. 630

This lovely piece of Baroque choral music is absolutely exquisite. (Emma Kirkby's singing - of course it is!)  For children, operatic/classical voices are often a new experience. Be patient with their reactions. The melody is slow and soothing.

Beethoven: Piano Trio in B-flat Major (opus 97) - 2nd movement

This piece touches the very core of the human soul.  It is peaceful but speaks of deep emotion.  When this type of music comes on our iPod dock, the energy in the classroom changes drastically. Perfect for after a hectic recess or for during silent reading.  My favourite recording is by the Beaux Arts Trio but it's not on YouTube unfortunately!

It has been my honour and privilege to share classical music with my eight and nine year old students.  Their openness to this journey has been appreciated and I hope that this will inspire a lifelong love that they have for this great art form.

The greatest miller, greatest winter traveller - Fischer-Dieskau

I will never forget the first time I heard a recording of Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (28 May 1925 – 18 May 2012.)  It was September 2001 in Edmonton, Alberta.  I was sitting in Dr. Michael Roeder's music history class. It was 9:00 am and it was my very first class of my undergraduate degree.  I did not know a soul.  The professor smiled at us, introduced himself, and then pressed play on the stereo. (No, we didn't have iPods back then.) 

What I heard were the first few gorgeous bars of Schubert's "An die Musik" sung by Fischer-Dieskau, accompanied by Gerald Moore on piano.  Not a pin dropped in the room. Some of the vocalists in the class knew the piece but at age 18, this was the first time I had ever encountered this music. 

After we heard the piece once, the professor handed us the words to Schrober's poem that serve as the text for this lied. I wanted to create a reasonable impression on my new classmates so I fought the tears.  Who was this amazing voice?  Our professor assured us that his diction was simply perfect and that his interpretations of Schubert were simply the benchmark.

In that first year music history course, we studied other popular songs from Schubert.  I'll never forget how genuinely frightened we were of Der Erlkönig! Fischer-Dieskau magically painted for us the different characters in the song and engaged us in the tragic plot.

My love of Schubert lieder has continued ever since that class.  Each time I discover a song of Schubert's that I love, I turn to Fischer-Dieskau first. It is not that I do not love the work of other great singers (Ian Bostridge, Michael Schade, for example.)  Simply put, however, Fischer-Dieskau has been a servant of these great works and communicates their essence to the listener with such conviction.

When I awoke this morning, my heart sank to read the news that this great artist had left us at age 86.  Multiple hommages and blog posts already pourred in my Twitter (@Westjet007) and Facebook feeds.  To be honest, I have not read one of them yet.  I have, however, provided links to them at the end of this post.

I will leave you with the most heart-breaking Schubert I know.  This is Des Baches Wiegenlied from Die Schoene Muellerin.  It is the last song in that cycle.  The little brook sings a lullaby for the heart-broken miller who drowns himself in the river after being rejected by the woman whom he loves.  

Gute Nacht, gute Nacht!

Bis alles wacht,

Schlaf aus deine Freude, schlaf aus dein Leid!

Der Vollmond steigt,

Der Nebel weicht,

Und der Himmel da oben, wie ist er so weit!

Good night, good night,
Until all awake,
Sleep out your joy, sleep out your pain!
The full moon climbs,
The mist fades away,
and the heavens above, how wide they are!

Deafness, despair, and Beethoven

In late February, I was struck with a vicious ear infection that lasted for the duration of two weeks. It started out boringly as a sinus cold but then that nasty Eustachian tube decided to get all infected and nasty.  During this period, I could barely hear my friends talking closely to me.  I had to turn up the volume on my iPod to maximum to hear any music. Even then, most sounds were muffled to me.  I trudged through the pain like a trooper. (Shout out to Tylenol for being amazing.) 


After about 4 days of this silliness, I did what all responsible people do - and I kept self-medicating.  On day 5, after a volume of text messages from my parents, I finally went to the Walk-In Clinic.  My doctor prescribed me some antibiotics and off I went. I was hopeful and had a renewed spirit.  I would get soon right?


WRONG! For five days, I took the antibiotics with no result.  A week after taking the antibiotics, I finally started to regain my hearing. It was the in between time that I wish to share.


I continued to teach - didn't even take one day off (this was a stupid decision by the way, just in case anyone's wondering.) I was irritable all day at school, could not properly hear the children, and physically my ears were always ringing or hurting.  I was appalled at how the condition impacted my mood.  And of course, which composer did I think of? Beethoven. (duh)


Beethoven had started to lose his hearing by 1796, at the age of 26. He had tinnitis which is a ringing in your ears.  What I recently learned is that he had kept this a secret.  In 1801, he finally started to reveal this secret.  Throughout my ear infection, I started to identify with the shame that Beethoven had felt. It's just simply embarrassing to have to reveal to people that you can't hear what they're saying.  At some points, I simply nodded to keep the conversation going. 


How must have Beethoven felt knowing that the way he made his entire living and that very thing which made his soul fly could be taken from him if he lost his hearing?  I recently posed this question to my grade 3 French Immersion class while we were reading this book. One boy answered quickly: "He would have wanted to just kill himself and die."  The other children gasped but I replied to the boy that he indeed felt that way.  Those sentiments were recorded in his Heilegenstadt Testament. 


Musically, Beethoven's sentiments on his deafness are best expressed in the second movement of the Third Symphony (completed in 1804.) Keep in mind that at this time, Beethoven was, for all intents and purposes, deaf.  The second movement of this symphony journeys deep into the depths of human despair. It's a funeral march and its solemnity reflects how Beethoven felt about his deafness.

Throughout this pretty serious ear infection, I kept thinking to myself how much I take sound, music, and hearing for granted. What if I never heard the voices of my friends or family again?  What if I never heard another note of music again?  What sounds do you hear each day that you take for granted? 

The scariest part was that the doctor told me I need to be increasingly careful about how many infections I get. Here's a resource about hearing and ear health.  Thank you to all of my friends for bearing with me. :) 

Here's a Beethoven treasure - and oui, it's filmed in Paris!! This work was composed in 1803.

With Determination - The Labour Movement and Music

Reflections on music and the labour movement


This is my fourth year of teaching. I adore my job. I thrive on the energy that my profession gives me. However, since September, I have felt my profession being degraded by a government that simply does not value public education.  I have turned to music as a comfort and as an encouragement.  Today showed me, once again, that music is prevalent in all aspects of my life - including my involvement with the labour movement.


Today, for the first time in my life, I attended a political rally.  When one thinks of teachers attending a rally, the idea is rather comical at first.  Teachers are well-groomed, apple-eating, well-behaved, stern figures of authority who occasionally crack a smile.  Does one expect teachers to be vocal and attend mass rallies with thousands of their colleagues?  Well, today that is exactly what occurred at the Vancouver Art Gallery.  My little Nikon did a not bad job of capturing some of the images of this amazing event.  

Teachers from all districts in the Lower Mainland and a variety of unions here to support us

We heard a variety of speakers who spoke passionately about the importance of teachers' work and the importance of public education. In between each speaker, however, a group led us in some rousing songs about the values of the union.  They called themselves Solidarity Notes.  One of the lyrics resounded with me: "THE UNION UNITED, WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED."  I immediately thought of Frederic Rzewski's (pronounced Jevski for you non-Poles...you're forgiven this time), The People United Will Never Be Defeated.

I first encountered this piece in my third year of university in an optional piano literature class at the University of Alberta.  I was in my very early twenties, an optimist, and had aspirations to be a lawyer.  I had no designs at all of being a union member.  I was intrigued by the origins of this solo piano piece. Rzewski based the theme upon the Chilean song, "¡El pueblo unido, jamás será vencido!" 

The song was initially composed as an anthem for the popular unity government, reflecting the spirit behind the mass mobilization of working class people who in 1970 had elected Salvador Allende for the socialist transformation of Chile.  

The music Rzewski created is nothing short of a masterwork.  It takes roughly 50 minutes to perform. It has a theme and 36 variations.  The pianist, in addition to needing a virtuoso technique, is required to whistle, slam the piano lid, and catch the after-vibrations of a loud attack as harmonics: all of these are "extended" techniques in 20th-century piano writing. Much of the work uses the language of 19th-century romanticism, but mixes this language with pandiatonic tonality, modal writing, and even serial techniques.

Something struck me as I sang along with my brothers and sisters from all sorts of unions.  What power music holds over us! Music can mobilise us against governments that wish to impose their wishes on us.  The people can express their will through music. Singing a familiar chorus or tune together can give us a sense that we are truly unified for a cause.  The lyrics of music can serve to express our will to governments that simply will not listen.  

A few of my teacher colleagues will read this and I would like to encourage them and any others in unions who struggle to remember the instructions that Rzewski gives us on how to play the theme: WITH DETERMINATION.

Now, if you have 50 minutes...sit back and take a journey through the Chilean labour movement through the lens of this phenomenal music.

(The entire piece here is played by Ursula Oppens who premiered it on February 7, 1976 and to whom it was dedicated.)