Schubert's letters: Snooping in the mail

Last Saturday morning was my first day of Spring Break! I woke up late (yes, 9 am is late) and finally finished reading The Letters of Franz Schubert and other Writings.  As I read these wonderful letters, I listened to his Moments Musicaux, op. 94, D. 780 and the Piano Sonata in c minor, D. 958.  

The sun was streaming into our home and I had simply nowhere to be until mid-afternoon.  I was able to truly enjoy each word that Schubert had written.  It was an incredible experience to have such an intimate look into Franz Schubert's life.

Schubert's letter to publishing house, Breitkopf und Härtel trying to convince them to buy his music. I sincerely hope that they replied: "JA!"

Schubert's address is actually super cool. 5th staircase? 2nd floor? Wow, times have changed. 

Permit me to share with you a few of the observations that I made.  Firstly, Schubert was relatively poor.  Many of his letters were to publishers negotiating a fair price for his compositions. It was simply incredible to see the names Breitkopf und Härtel and Schott at the top of some of Schubert's letters.  One can see how Schubert had to be persistent in contacting these people in order to get his music published.  It was eye-opening for me to see that even in that society, the struggle to create art and still survive financially was very difficult.  I suppose that I had been under many false presumptions that music and the other arts were highly valued in that society, therefore making the ability to sell them easier.  Schubert's letters indicate quite the opposite.

Part 1 of Schubert's cover letter to Austrian Emperor Francis II. I say hire the guy! 

Part 2 of Schubert's cover letter to the Emperor.  People this is gold. 

Aside from noticing how the "music business" ran back in the early nineteenth century, Schubert's letters reveal so much about the man himself.  It is clear that he was quite good-natured, friendly, jovial and quite simply desired to be happy.  His letters are nearly always affectionate, personable, and thoughtful.  Schubert was not afraid to express how he missed his friends and family.  It is clear that he longed to be with those special people in those places which held such wonderful memories for him.

When I initially started reading Schubert's letters, I was under the impression that he acted this way with only a few select people. On the contrary, it would appear that Schubert had many close friendships and was indeed very good at keeping in touch with friendships who did not necessarily live close to him.  As if it were possible, I now admire Schubert even more than before!  His music simply reflects the love that he had for the people and places in his life.

Regarding the places in his life, Schubert writes incredibly descriptive passages telling his reader about the places that he is visiting.  His attention to detail is stunning.  One soon grasps Schubert's adoration of nature and how being in the mountains or countryside revived him.  A nostalgia pervades how he describes his journey and the joy that he took in spending time with people who were special to him.

Tragic. Schubert's last surviving letter - written a week before he died. 

What I've always loved about Schubert's music is that his heart is conspicuously displayed on his sleeve.  That same heart is so evident in his letters.  I have not always been able to identify why I have such an affinity to Schubert's music.  Of all the composers, it speaks so profoundly to my life experience.  After getting a more intimate glimpse into his personal life through his letters, I now understand why I have been able to strongly identify with his music. 

I have, in the last two years, been able to reconnect with many dear friends who live far away from me.  I am always very sad to leave them and try to make a concerted effort to keep in touch with them by whatever means possible.  In fact, I would say that I share Schubert's unhealthy love of all things nostalgic.  Both his letters and music demonstrate a longing to return to the past.  For Schubert, the past is seems to be a better place than the present.


I have found that maintaining friendships from the past comes at a cost.  Emotionally, I am still invested in these people.  Sometimes, that results in disappointment.  Nonetheless, there is great joy in knowing that in cities near and far, there are people dear to my heart.  Reading Schubert's letters was an affirmation that we ought to write to each other and tell each other that we miss one another.  Schubert's music, on the other hand, goes one step further and expresses that love that we have for each other in such a sublime fashion.

So to conclude, to all of you whom I haven't seen in a while or haven't spoken with, I care for you. I think of you often and hope that your days are filled with glorious, life-changing music.

With all of my affection,

J. 

But in the end, we ascend.

I will never forget the first time that I heard Schubert's magnificent Sonata in B-flat Major, D. 960.  It was Friday, January 11, 2002 at Convocation Hall on the campus of the University of Alberta.  I attended a solo piano recital by Claude Frank, professor of piano at Yale University.  My dear friend Allison and I trudged through banks of snow on that dark, quiet January evening.  If you are not from the Canadian prairies, permit me to state that winter evenings on the prairies are magical.  There is a transcendent silence, tranquility, and sense of peace that lingers in the frosty air.  I am not sure whether or not the frigid temperatures keep people indoors which results in the streets being fairly quiet places.  Nonetheless, this was the context in which I first heard this glorious music.

Claude Frank's recital was, in fact, the first full-length piano recital that I attended.  I was in my first year of university and had fallen back in love with classical music after taking an introductory music history course.  From the very first notes of the Molto Moderato movement that Claude Frank played of Schubert's last piano sonata, I was completely swept into the narrative that the composer weaves with his music.  I can honestly say I had never heard such music as this.  There was such profundity.  Such an array of human emotion was expressed.  The opening of the first movement is surreal.  It is quiet, gentle, reflective, and yet there is breathtaking beauty - not unlike a prairie winter evening.   In the first movement alone, Schubert's use of harmony, dynamics, and texture takes us through what seems to be an entire lifetime.  This is so ironic considering that he was only thirty-one years old when he died in 1828. Nonetheless, one can hardly miss that this is the testament of a dying man - a man looking back and reflecting upon his life.  At nineteen years old, I understood that this is what he was trying to accomplish but I hardly had the life experience in order to relate to what Schubert was trying to communicate. 

From that evening, Schubert's last sonata had reserved a special part of my heart.  Nine years later, in Montreal, a dear friend played this piece privately for me in preparation for a recital he would be giving.  Halfway through the second movement, I could feel tears slowly work their way down my cheeks.  Did I now, nine years later, understand what Schubert was trying to communicate? Was I moved because of the nostalgia that surrounded this piece? Were there tears in my eyes because my friend had so effectively communicated the feelings that Schubert's notes had intended?    

Since my friend performed that for me two summers ago, that piece, believe it or not, means even more to me than it ever did.  When I hear it, I think of this friend.  Moreover, I think of the friends with whom I have shared musical memories over the years.  I heard this piece recently performed by Paul Lewis at the Chan Centre for the Performing Arts at UBC.  (Sidenote: Apparently, university campuses seem to be the best places to perform Schubert's last major work as these are the only places in which I've heard this work programmed!)  To be honest, I was dreading hearing that piece because all of the memories it would conjure up.  Nonetheless, I felt redeemed after Paul Lewis finished the fourth movement.  

To this day, when I hear this piece, I am filled with utter sadness.  I do not listen to it often due to the extremely powerful effect that it has on me. Today, however, at my piano lesson, my teacher suggested something to me.  I am learning Schubert's Moment Musical, op. 94, no. 2 in E-flat Major.  My teacher, in order to demonstrate a concept about the rhythm, asked me if I knew the second movement of the Schubert's last sonata. I smiled and quietly replied, looking down, that yes, it was in fact my favourite piece.  She began to play the second movement for me to demonstrate the aspect of rhythm we had previously discussed.  

I began to understand the piece I was playing better.  My teacher also mentioned that at the end of the Moment Musical no. 2 that the A-flat Major chord is an octave higher than where it was when we begin the piece.  In her words, "we have ascended."   Although in both pieces of music, we are truly exposed to human suffering, loss, and grief, we come out in a higher place.  Schubert leads us to the most heartbreaking places of our human existence and I can genuinely say I am glad for the life experience that has allowed me to identify with these pieces of music.  The nineteen year old girl who heard this music in 2002 had no idea what she would experience between then and now.  Upon reflection, many of these experiences were extremely difficult teachers.  Nonetheless, my response has been to allow these experiences to let me appreciate music more deeply.  I am grateful that my life's story has made this music mean more to me.  

I am, however, most glad that Schubert allows us to ascend.  We are not completely left without hope.  It is as if Schubert is saying to us that it is acceptable to experience all of life's emotions.  His music validates what it means to be human.  

Concert Review : Talented Violin and Piano duo at Van Art Gallery

A few weekends ago, I had the privilege of attending a recital at the Vancouver Art Gallery.  The recital was given by the talented young chamber duo of Emily Westell on violin and Alexander Karpeyev on piano.  It was a bright sunny day in Vancouver - which in itself is a rarity.  What a refreshing change from the constant dull of grey.

The music that the artists performed was also a refreshing change from the pieces one can normally hear at a violin and piano chamber recital.  Starting with the lovely Handel Sonata for violin and continuo in D Major, HWV 371, op.1, no. 13, the musicians performed with vitality, freshness, precision, and elegance.  There was a lovely delicacy to the balance that they achieved between the piano and violin.  The performers were always attentive to the melodic line and the ornamentation was well-planned and executed.  Choosing the Handel showed their desire to present original choices to their audience.  How wonderful to hear a selection from the Baroque era that is not often programmed!

Following the Handel piece, the duo performed another rarely programmed work: the Sonata for violin and piano in b minor, opus 21 by Nikolai Medtner.  This piece was written between 1909 and 1910 and dedicated to the composer's wife, Anna.  Full of grand, sweeping gestures this piece was a delight to hear.  The performers' interpretation was luscious and the audience was grateful to be exposed to this work. A particularly beautiful moment was captured when the sound of Russian Orthodox church bells is evoked in the opening of the third movement.

Medtner is a of particular interest to pianist Alex Karpeyev as he is currently writing his doctoral thesis on the subject through City University in London.  Ten years ago, Medtner struck Mr. Karpeyev as "unusual and interesting."  Through his work and performance Medtner's compositions, Mr. Karpeyev hopes to bring attention to a composer who is neglected but still has something to say.  In particular, Mr. Karpeyev argues that Medtner should be programmed more frequently because the composer "glorifies the beauty of hte world in his own language."

Finally, the duo performed Sergei Prokofiev's Sonata for Violin and Piano no. 2 in D Major, opus 94bis.  Originally written for flute and piano, Prokofiev transformed the work into a violin sonata at the prompting of his close friend violinist David Oistrakh.  It premiered on 17 June 1944.  The performers responded with great skill to the virtuosic demands that this piece places on both pianist and violinist.  Both violinist and pianist played with lyricism and elegance that suits the essentially classical nature of this sonata.

It was a special treat to hear the duo perform considering that Emily Westell is performing on 1717 Windsor-Weinstein Stradivari violin, on loan from the Canada Council for the Arts.  She said that this precious instrument has given her a chance to explore the different colours of sound that are available to her.  The power of the instrument has also been a discovery that Ms. Westell has enjoyed making.  Having the use of this violin has also changed how Ms. Westell thinks about sound.  

The recital was a fresh and enjoyable display of youthful energy and wonderfully innovative programming of repertoire.  We, at An Die Musik, look forward to seeing what the future has in store for both Mr. Karpeyev and Ms. Westell.

Please visit their respective sites for more information on these wonderful artists!

Alexander Karpeyev: http://www.akarpeyev.com/

Emily Westell: http://emilywestell.wix.com/violinist#!

Their duo also has a page you can visit: http://www.myspace.com/westell-karpeyev-duo

Lessons on Piano Lessons - Part 2

One of the best ways to learn how to teach is by watching an experienced teacher in action.  I was fortunate enough to attend Jon Kimura Parker's masterclass with the VSO School of Music on Friday, January 18th.  The masterclass took place in the gorgeous, intimate space of the Alan and Gwendoline Pyatt Hall.  

Jon Kimura Parker's demeanour was so warm, welcoming, and inviting. His sense of humour and good nature made each of the pianists more comfortable.  This was a good reminder for me as to how I can make my students feel more comfortable. Am I always caring, warm, and doing my best to reduce their anxiety?  One thing that Professor Kimura Parker did was thank each student for playing. What a wonderful gesture!  Have I thanked my students for sharing their hearts through music with me?

Jon Kimura Parker is extremely knowledgeable about the piano repertoire and the advice he gave the students was invaluable.  The first student played the stunning Abegg Variations by Robert Schumann.  The first comment that Jon Kimura Parker reminded us of was the when music is going slowly, it is easier to shape the melody.  Nonetheless, don't forget to shape phrases and melodies when music is fast and loud.  He also mentioned that our arms and wrists should be as still as possible so that our little muscles remain in control. (Fine motor movements vs. gross motor movements.)  Jon Kimura Parker, Professor of Piano, at Rice University in Houston, also mentioned that when we have repeated figurations or sections that we must do something to make them each slightly different. The left hand can certainly play a part in this too!  Another helpful bit of information was that slow practise helps us build our confidence psychologically.

The second piece performed in the masterclass was Chopin's magnificent Scherzo no. 2 in b minor.  Jon Kimura Parker gave many helpful pointers to the student who played but I was particularly impressed with the information given about the middle section of this piece.  Advice given on how to play the chords included the following: continuous sound, get a sense the keys go deep down when playing the chords, remain aware of the line or phrase and do not lose sense of your musical direction.  

The third piece performed was an early Beethoven sonata: Piano Sonata no. 4 in E-flat Major, Opus 7.  Jon Kimura Parker spoke on the topic of memory slips and the most effective ways in which to memorize one's music.  He suggested that it is very useful to have a recording device on hand when you practise so that you can go back and identify the exact places where you experienced memory trouble.  Moreover, repeated notes can trigger memory problems.  Sonata form, in which the melody experiences many subtle transformations from its original form, can also make memorizing difficult.  Jon Kimura Parker's final advice on the subject of memory was that memory mistakes result from "thinking on stage. If you're thinking on stage, it means that you haven't done your thinking while practising."  This advice prompted me to think about my own practising habits and the habits of my students. Are our practice sessions thoughtful and focused periods of time?

The final piece was Chopin's Ballade no. 3.   Again, I was impressed with Jon Kimura Parker's positive comments to the student and his compliment to them that "they drew the listener in from the beginning."   Firstly, he advised the pianist to not close the window of dynamic range that they have.  I sat, nodding in agreement. I found myself asking the following questions: am I allowing my students to truly explore the dynamic range of the piano?  Are they truly achieving contrasts between ff and pp?  Secondly, Professor Kimura Parker suggested that the pianist should allow the accompaniment to serve the melody and the music.  I will, as a piano teacher, continue to remind my students about the balance of hands needing to be appropriate.  Thirdly, it was recommended that the pianist not discount the importance of hearing bass notes resolve.  Again, questions flooded my mind: Am I teaching my students the basics of harmony, even when they are adamantly opposed to "boring theory"?  Am I making my students aware of important changes in harmony?

It was an incredible experience to watch Jon Kimura Parker share his wealth of knowledge with the audience and the young pianists who came to perform for him. Moreover, he showed a graciousness that truly models how a teacher should approach his or her students. He was grateful to hear them play and it is so clear he has a deep love for what he is teaching.  It is that spirit of gratefulness and wanting to share, coupled with possessing amazing amounts of knowledge about music, that makes Jon Kimura Parker a fantastic piano teacher!

Lessons on Piano Lessons - Part 1

One of the greatest joys I have is getting to teach piano. I teach Monday afternoon and early evening. I rush from my "day job" as a French Immersion teacher to teach private piano lessons.  It's exhausting to make a 30-km commute from school to where I teach, normally in pouring rain but the reward is great. 

My students are motivated, love music, and I have been fortunate enough to develop positive relationships with them.  In the last few years, I have become increasingly curious about what differentiates a good piano teacher from a great piano teacher.

After observing two recent masterclasses, one by former UBC Professor Jane Coop and current Rice University Professor and the pride of Vancouver, Jon Kimura Parker, I believe that I may have a few insights to share on the subject.   In this post, I'll share what I learned from Professor Jane Coop.

In both masterclasses, exceptional young pianists were picked to perform for these esteemed musicians. After hearing a young girl play Chopin's Ballade no. 3, Professor Coop had just one question: "When you hear a pianist in concert, what draws you to them?"  Are we asking our students how they're going to grab, maintain, and then release their audience's attention?  

The next question that Professor Coop asked was "What's the most difficult thing to do on the piano?" After some coaxing, the student arrived at the answer that creating a legato sound is our biggest challenge due to the decay of sound.  Professor Coop further urged the student to consider that what makes legato challenging is when we can't physically hold down the notes to overlap, how do we create a legato sound? Professor Coop's answer was that we shape the line to give the illusion of legato. 

One element of Professor Coop's teaching style that was very evident was her use of questioning technique to engage students in thinking about the music that they are learning.  Another teaching technique that Professor Coop used was to remind the student of elements that they needed to work on before they demonstrated to her that they had understood her suggestions.  Moreover, Professor Coop sang and conducted a fair amount to give the student suggestions on musicality. How many of us are confident enough to do that? It was a very powerful tool which resulted in a lot of improvement from the students.

The next student to perform did a delightful job of Haydn's Piano Sonata in E-flat Major, Hob. XVI: 52.  Professor Coop asked very intriguing questions such as "Why do you think that this sonata is popular?" and "what is the character of this music?"  The first question, in particular, is so critical because the student will share with their audience what they perceive to be great about the music.  Professor Coop drew the student's attention to certain figures that were being blurred by his use of pedal.  An effective piano teacher will always maintain high expectations of their students ensuring that the student is being attentive to each detail present in the score.

Following the Haydn, a young pianist played Debussy's Jardins sous la pluie.  Professor Coop asked the pianist many questions to ascertain whether the student understood the atmosphere and setting that the music was meant to create.  One aspect of Professor Coop's teaching that remained consistent throughout the masterclass was how positive she was toward each pupil.  For example, she complimented the student who played Jardins sous la pluie on having met the technical challenges of the piece. Nonetheless, she urged this student to reach beyond the technical aspects of the piece and aim for colour, confidence, and flare. How often have we been to a recital or festival and heard gorgeous music reduced to a technical study in how to fly across the keyboard?  

Have you ever been last in a masterclass or festival class? It's honestly the worst. You have the difficult task of maintaining everyone's attention after they've already heard three performances and witnessed three mini-lessons.  Nonetheless, one last pianist performed Chopin's Ballade no. 4.  It was in this last lesson that Professor Coop's gifts as a teacher really shone through.  Her first response after the young woman finished performing was to compliment her on how she has focused on bringing out the melody.  

After that encouraging remark, Professor Coop addressed what is a universal issue for musicians. It's the psychological game of having confidence in yourself before you perform and having an idea of what kind of sound you wish to produce.  Professor Coop recommended that the young pianist hear the first few notes in her head before her fingers even touched the keyboard.  Moreover, she suggested having a sound level in mind before depressing the keys.  Finally, her most valuable advice of all: "Remember what it is to sing a line."  Professor Coop reminded the audience and the students that it is challenging for pianists to create melodic lines because our instrument doesn't lend itself to having a strong "sense of intervals."  She claimed that much happens between the intervals of which pianists are very unaware.

To summarize, it was an incredible two hours spent observing a truly masterful piano teacher. Her teaching techniques of encouragement, singing to demonstrate desired musical effect, and using questions to guide knowledge acquisition were all exemplary.  Moreover, her demeanour was consistently calm and pleasant. Nonetheless, her wealth of knowledge made her presence very authoritative indeed. I am still trying to figure out how Professor Coop was so efficient in her instruction but for now I am simply grateful for the opportunity to have watched her generously share her knowledge of the piano and its music.

Give the gift of music.

Dear friends and readers,

I am of the firm belief that music lessons were the greatest gift my parents ever gave me. I still thank them on a regular basis for paying for my music lessons and making my practise.

The joy of music lessons is often restricted to those who can afford lessons, if their school doesn't have a music program.  I'm hoping to combine social justice and a passion for the arts in this campaign.

I would love to give students free piano lessons. Unfortunately, I don't have a piano in my home. With the help of Indiegogo, I will hopefully be able to raise enough money to purchase a piano and then volunteer my time to teach children music in my home.

I would be so grateful for your support!


Merci! Danke! Thank you! Gracias! Grazie!

Please click here to support: http://igg.me/p/326335/x/401994

Choosing Bach

My wonderful teacher has said that I can choose a new solo Bach selection!

This is so exciting. New repertoire with my nice new bow arm...so, friends I need your help. Which of these pieces should I learn?

Danke schön!

Option A) Happy, happy, peasant dance, E Major, pure joy

Option B) Melancholy, profound sadness (yet peaceful), g minor, such a great key to play in