And It Came To Pass...

"Nuit d'Etoiles" by Debussy from the Young Artist's Recital

2011-06-14T12:33:00.001-07:00

Young Artist's Recital: Festival South 2011

2011-06-07T09:46:00.000-07:00

This fabulous group of young artists presented an art song program at Bay Street Presbyterian in downtown Hattiesburg. I was privileged to sing with them in the Young Artist's Recital. This recital was part of the music festival, Festival South 2011. I auditioned earlier this year for the festival's Young Artist program and was accepted for a role in the opera, Mozart's Magic Flute. Along with preparing the opera, the accepted young artists are participating in weekly personal coaching with a varied faculty of talented vocal coaches, singing in masterclasses, and learning German diction with USM's Dr. Odom. We presented art songs in an audition for the Young Artist's Recital, and I was accepted to sing Debussy's "Nuit d'Etoiles." I was coached for the recital by professional soprano and Southern Miss alumnus Emily Hindrichs, who is here to sing the role of Queen of the Night with the Saturday cast.

The little Bitsy Queen of the Night

2011-06-02T07:24:00.000-07:00

Well, this is what I get for dragging Anna Laurie to four hour opera rehearsals two night in a row. We got in around 11pm, and she began her "rehearsal". "Here take this," she commanded in her big black boots.

My McNair Research Presentation

2011-05-30T04:40:00.000-07:00

I presented my undergraduate research Fall 2010 during the McNair Scholar's Research Symposium at USM. The motive for my topic was to legitimize the piano works of Shostakovich. Works of Soviet composers are often passed over by Western artists as propaganda efforts for a demanding government instead of honest personal art. Shostakovich did compose propaganda pieces, it would have been impossible for him to survive if he did not. However, there is much evidence in the history, originality, and quality workmanship of many of his compositions to argue for their artistic value and honesty. I chose to work on a small category of his compositions that pertains specifically to my discipline, solo piano.

The Clumsy Viennese Waltz

2011-05-28T20:50:00.000-07:00

Our Opera theatre class had to learn the Viennese waltz. No, this is NOT the Viennese waltz, but it was as close as we could get. It was part of the purpose of the class to get us comfortable at moving on stage. We are singers! We stand and sing. The idea of moving fluidly and gracefully is tough for some of us, but here we are. We survived, and not a single person fell, (this unprecedented fact should prompt a grand opera chorus worthy of Puccini, or Bellini, or linguini....guess I worked up an appetite dancing).

And Here's the Opera Chicken

2011-05-27T14:57:00.000-07:00

Two women receive the exact same letter from Falstaff. They discover this as they brag to each other about the propositions they have received. Realizing that they have been duped, they make fun of Falstaff before getting really angry and plotting revenge. My daughter was videoing, so there are some rather unorthodox camera angles. See the previous post "Singing Integrity and the Opera Chicken" for more backstory about this unique performance.

Bitsy's Art Song

2011-05-27T05:03:00.000-07:00

May 6, 2010

This is another old video from last year that I just rediscovered. It is interesting to watch how she perceived "proper" singing. The lyrics are pretty funny too.

The Little Bitsy Conductor

2011-05-26T21:12:00.000-07:00

May 6, 2010

Singing Integrity and an Opera Chicken

2011-05-23T06:49:00.000-07:00

And out comes the opera chicken! The Falstaff ladies quartet ended the fast and furious section with clucks and squawks to the music instead of the traditional Italian. And right at the end, the opera chicken was pulled out of Danielle's bosom. The crowd howled. I know I couldn't keep a straight face. It was entertainment, and such a fun way to end our semester together in the Opera Scenes Program. Our professor Dr. Kyle was delighted. This was among my firsts for this semester, (first opera scene, first jazz band, first jazz combo, first improv solo, first voice solo with band, first opera audition). This opera scene was the final for the class that introduced me to the art of the stage. We walked, practiced yoga, danced, acted, and placed those movements in perspective to being able to sustain the singing voice. As I studied the art of the singing actor, Dr. Kyle made one statement that I will not forget. "Singing is an unselfish act." She explained that if we are thinking of ourselves during performance we cheat the audience and the music. A great performer will stay in the character of the music. That focus registers truth to the audience. The song in its character becomes believable and compelling. Checking-out of the character even to think about our vocal technique registers as untrue to the audience and therefore is selfish. That concept will stick with me from this class. That concept and the opera chicken.

My New Journey into the World of Jazz

2011-05-23T06:33:00.000-07:00

Spring 2011 was my first semester to play and sing in Jazz Lab Band II. Patrick Herns and I shared the piano and split the tunes between us. I played "Arranco," "Oye Como Va," "Warm Breeze," "What a Fool Believes." David Carter, our director, used the rhythm section for the combo and gave me the opportunity to sing "Corcovado" in Portuguese and English. I enjoyed taking my music in a different direction, taking some chances, and being allowed more freedom to make creative choices. I improved my first solo to the tune, "Oleo," with the combo. The combo also worked up "Spain," and I learned a little about scat singing to that tune. I'm looking forward to playing with them again next semester. The music is addictive.

Calling for Mama

2009-08-01T09:34:00.000-07:00

I need Mama.
I really do.
I bumped my toe!
Oh, what shall I do!

Shall I call her name high,
Or shall I call it low?
Shall I say it fast,
Or shall I say it slow?

Shall I say it with a whimper,
Shall I say it with a whiffle,
Shall I say it with a sob,
Or shall I say it with a sniffle?

Shall I emphasize the first syllable?
Shall I emphasize the last?
I need to be more pathetic;
She's not coming very fast.

Anna Laurie had just come to my room and shown me where she hurt her toe. I told her to go sit down and rest. It would quit hurting. She went to her room and sat on her beanbag chair; but the more she thought about it, the more she decided that it wasn't enough. Her sniffles turned into theatrical moans, and she began to experiment with all the sounds she could make in the word "Mama". Joshua and I were almost rolling with laughter in the next room. (Disclaimer: No children were deliberately injured in the making of this story, and the toe was in absolutely no danger whatsoever.)

Summer Discovery

2009-07-26T21:50:00.000-07:00

I never thought of myself as a craftswoman, but I have found a fascination with the inner workings of the piano. I leveled my keys Saturday and enjoyed it. I unscrewed and took apart to cabinet around the keyboard and readjusted every key with paper washers until they were all level. It took several hours. It became a game to see how accurately I could guess the size of paper washer needed for each key. I like the idea of being able to control the performance of my piano beyond pianist technique. While I don't think I'll enjoy tuning, I have a feeling that my piano is going to be taken apart a lot more often for adjustments and regulating.

Progress!

2009-02-11T19:12:00.000-08:00

I finally made some measurable progress toward my degree. Last semester, I learned the first movement of Kabalevsky's Piano Concerto No. 3 and played in the concerto competition at the university. I also played in Nelita True's master class when she visited the university last fall. Thirty minutes of critique from an artist and teacher like Mrs. True was intense and painful revealing. It was just what I needed. The discipline and pressure of these and other performance opportunities put me in good shape to pass my piano juries and obtain the blessing of the professors to declare my major as piano performance. The change of degree paperwork was pure pleasure. The downside is that the professor's decided I must pass my barrier this spring to stay in the degree. (Start the dramatic theme music, drum roll please....) Will I have the discipline and momentum to wow the professors at the end of this semester and continue as a performance major? Time will tell. Meanwhile, Joshua graduates and Anna Laurie has started piano and violin.

Reading Log - "Walking" by H.D. Thoreau

2008-06-11T10:50:00.000-07:00

Thoreau argues “to regard man as an inhabitant, or a part and parcel of Nature, rather than a member of society”(pg.1). He supports this with personal experience, writings, and history. Thoreau opens his argument with the concept of walking. The walk is one of contemplation, as a camel chews while he walks. It takes the walker away from artificial devices of man to where his mind and body can operate free from unnatural confines. Thoreau explores the directions of his walk. He forms a parallel between his affinity for the west and the migration patterns of civilization. The east held history, while the west was the pregnant future. Thoreau even calls to witness the patterns of the sun. “He appears to migrate west daily, and tempt us to follow.” (pg.6) This argument seems to stem from a popular theory of his time called Manifest Destiny. He sites Michaux, Humbolt,Guyot, Linnaeus who described the American wilderness as unimaginable paradise on Earth. Thoreau believes man owes the quality of his development to contact with the wild, and so believes that America should produce men of unbelievable quality. He sites the wolf-suckled Romulus and Remus of Rome and concludes: “The founders of every state which has risen to eminence have drawn their nourishment and vigor from a similar wild source”(pg.8). Thoreau criticizes English Literature, including Shakespeare, as being tame and dull. The future of American literature promises better things to him, of more wildness. Thoreau believes that life is in the wild. The sum of his argument is for the acceptance and embrace of what is real in our world. In defining the power as nature, Thoreau struggles to explain man's aversion to it. I differ from Thoreau in believing the power to be God behind his creation. Therefore, the struggle against the natural is unbelieving man's struggle against God. Thoreau advocates the natural man living naturally in partnership with nature. “The weapons with which we have gained our most important victories, which should be handed down as heirlooms from father to son, are not the sword and the lance, but the bushwhack, the turf-cutter, the spade, and the bog-hoe, rusted with the blood of many a meadow, begrimed with the dust of many a hard-fought field.”(pg.10).

Note: "Walking" by Henry David Thoreau is in the public domain and may be found many places on the internet.

Performance Environment

2008-06-11T10:46:00.000-07:00

The Southern Chorale is a very tight discourse community with a distinct authority structure, rules, and terms for membership. While Chorale uses terminology common to music theorists and choirs, words develop within the group that are specific to that particular group. As a performance group, Chorale is sensitive to specific effects of the environment. This paper will introduce Chorale and explain a few elements of the performance environment.
Dr. Gregory Fuller introduces Southern Chorale as the “premier” choir of the university. As the director of choral activities at the University of Southern Mississippi, he holds the choir to a high standard. Each new member has to pass an audition that tests, among other things, the ability to sing through difficult material at first sight, called sight-reading. The backbone of the choir is graduate students and undergraduate seniors with only a handful of lower-classmen making the ranks.
Members spend a lot of time together during fall and spring semesters. They meet for rehearsal Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, for an hour and thirty minutes. The students also meet each other around campus and in class. When the choir prepares for a concert, they often have extra rehearsals. The singers share professors, performance stories, nicknames of the repertoire, and a passion for music. Hard work, a common goal, and shared experiences forge relationships that last outside the choir hall.
Rehearsals are long and tough. Dr. Fuller calls Southern Chorale his “Lexus” compared to choirs he guest conducts when away at workshops and events. He uses this metaphor to describe Chorale's sensitive response to his conducting that gives him a smooth, luxury “ride”. This responsiveness comes at a price to each member. The singers are expected to sight-read accurately, sing long phrases with a single breath, keep pitch, and give a wide range of dynamics (volume control) under difficult circumstances. The repertoire is daunting. It makes huge demands on the singers' physical ability to perform and their knowledge of music theory. Chorale is the only choir at the university to use tuning forks, a steel instrument that vibrates the pitch scientifically known as A 440 when struck. Instead of relying on a piano, they can re-orient themselves to the right pitch with a personal tuning fork. This system requires that each singer know intervals, the space from one pitch to another, backwards and forwards. The choir can to jump to any pitch from A 440. All of this detail and discipline is for one purpose, the performance.
Environment to a choir is the performance environment. Music is an environmental medium, because sound is a quality of the environment. Musicians, composers, directors are all involved in the science of making art out of sound. The art of music is a personal art in live performance. It is shared from the performers straight to the individuals and immediately dies from the atmosphere. The message is sometimes historical, political, or spiritual, but it is all contained in the music. Depending on the length of the performance, a performer does not get a lot of time to communicate. Every note counts. Every nuance of expression is vital to perform the work of a composer with integrity. The music community in general insists that the instructions of the composer are the final authority on a performance of his work. Time and effort are put into research for authentic performance. When the moment comes, it is important that the appropriate sound be projected to the audience as the composer wished and the director designed. This moment is where other factors from the environment come into play.
One rainy afternoon, the choir got off a bus they had been riding since seven that morning. Tired and damp, the singers ran into the little band hall where an audience of eighty or so students were waiting to hear the “premier” choir of The University of Southern Mississippi. Chorale immediately had to scrap half of their repertoire that required accompaniment, since the hall had no piano. The worst part was when they started to sing. The room absorbed and suppressed the sound. Without the ability to hear each other and make minute adjustments, the singers were like pilots flying in a storm by instruments and air traffic control. Each singer had to trust Dr. Fuller to hold the choir together and safely “land” each song.
Choirs adjust their technique to each room. When a choir is in a room that distorts or absorbs the reverberation of sound, they depend on their ears less and sing the rhythms and dynamics that they see the director giving. Directors call it “singing with your eyes”. In the music community, a room that suppresses sound is referred to as “dead”. The singers cannot hear their sound, because it is like singing into a vacuum. A choir will struggle to unify their pitch, dynamics, and tempo in a “dead” room.
Some rooms have too much reverberation and distract the singers. The sound bounces around and returns to the singers after the music has moved on. If the choir sings what they hear, they fall behind the tempo of the director, and the music falls apart. Composers put notes together as chords to form a sound of dissonance or consonance. If these notes to do not happen on pitch at the same time, the chords do not “lock”. The music simply does not happen.
Dr. Fuller refers to the sanctuary at Parkway Heights Methodist Church as being “wet”, because it carries and projects sound well. He likes the stone flooring of that room for its reflecting properties and mentioned once that he wished he could persuade churches everywhere to remove their offensive, sound-absorbing carpet. Chords “lock” more easily there, because that sanctuary allows the singers to hear and make adjustments to each other for the optimum unity of sound.
The performance is only as good as the sound that reaches the audience. Dr. Fuller moves his choirs around so the sound will hit the audience just right. Distance and arrangement matter. For the Hattiesburg Choral Union's spring program in Gulfport this year, the right sound from the choir was not occurring until about fifty feet or further away from the stage. A good director notes this and arranges his choir appropriately for the best sound to reach the highest percentage of the audience. The Hattiesburg Choral Union, which most Chorale members are also apart of, has a simple arrangement of (left to right) soprano, bass/baritone, tenor, alto; but Southern Chorale often mixes the sopranos with bass/baritones and tenors with altos on the risers for a different blend. Southern Chorale, with roughly fifty members, is one third the size of the Hattiesburg Choral Union. Some arrangements are used to create special effects, such as when Chorale circled the audience one night to sing Mendelssohn. It fit the sanctuary at Parkway Heights well, and the way the sound blended over the audience was spine-tingling.
The environment of Southern Chorale is the properties of sound. Singers are concerned about their sound and how it fits with their section and the whole choir. Directors work to develop and display the choir's sound for performance. Because they are so passionate about the creation and integrity of their art, choirs will always be concerned with the elements of acoustics. No matter how well-trained the choir, their response to their environment means the success or failure of the performance.

2008-02-24T11:52:00.000-08:00

D-A-D-D-Y spells "love".
Anna Laurie
February 22, 2008

Anna Laurie's world

2008-02-19T10:55:00.000-08:00

Anna Laurie: When I be a mama I can have a big necklace. I can play in recital class and you can come hear me. I'm gonna be a bride, and I'm gonna practice Beethoven.

Rachel: When you graduate high school would you like to go to college and sing in the choir and play in recital class and take theory classes?

Anna Laurie: And come home and sleep and practice? Yeah!!

Rachel: What do mama's do for fun?

Anna Laurie: Get into their purse.

Rachel: Anything else?

Anna Laurie: Yes, but I really can't tell you that.

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C-A-R-D spells rat

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Looking at my hands
"I have strong hands too Mama. And I have strong legs to run, and I have a stong mouth to talk. You know what my fingers are? They're wiggly!"

**********************************

I want to get married and be a mama, Mama. I got to find me a husband.
January 20, 2008

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Joshua spreads jelly on toast.

Anna Laurie: I like the way you're coloring, Daddy. Is that coloring bread?

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You can't say bobo. You can only say you're hurt or you're not hurt.

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Joshua slams on the brakes to avoid another car.

Joshua: I'm sorry! Are ya"ll okay?

Anna Laurie: My hair came loose!

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Anna Laurie: I stuck my arm with a glick!

Nana: Did it hurt?

Anna Laurie: No.

Nana: What's a glick?

Anna Laurie: A fossil. A fossil is a glick.

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Anna Laurie: I left my thingamagigee in Clarksdale.

Rachel: What is your thingamagigee?

Anna Laurie: It goes, zzzzzt, zzzzt.

Rachel: What?

Anna Laurie: You know. My clickum!

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Anna Laurie: I want to be a giant like Anna!

Joshua: Anna isn't a giant. She's just a little girl.

Anna Laurie: Yes she is. She put on her mama's coat and became a giant.

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Anna Laurie: Daddy, if I eat all this big gum I'll feel better.

Joshua: Oh, really?

Anna Laurie: Um-hum.

Rachel: So that's the magic cure?

Anna Laurie: You're right on target.

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Joshua: Take a bite of salad, Dear.

Anna Laurie: I dare not.

December 2,2007

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A passionate performance

2008-01-21T14:52:00.000-08:00

Anna Laurie rewrote a classic as she gave a passionate performance of her version of "Tomorrow" from the movie "Annie". She tried to count herself into it, but that still needs a little work. She really enjoys the word "tomorrow". I was afraid for a minute she had got stuck on it. This is one of our favorite videos.

If it looks like it, it probably is!!!!

2008-01-06T11:20:00.000-08:00

Anna Laurie was sitting contentedly in the backseat of our car beside Joshua's mother, Grandmama Cindy. I could hear her crunching and smacking on something. She was really enjoying her snack. I thought they were cookies from her Sunday school goody bag. Joshua had picked her up from children's church, so I hadn't played close attention to what she came back with. "Those look like dog biscuits," Grandmama Cindy noted. I turned to check on this and found that the "cookies" were shaped like little dog bones. We took turns smelling them and looking at them closely. Why would they give out dog biscuits to the kids at church? Surely it couldn't be. Joshua, Grandmama, and I discussed it back and forth. It didn't make sense. There was only one way for me to really know for sure. Swallowing my pride, I took a tiny nibble on the corner of one of the "cookies". "It is dog biscuits!" I said, shocked. Anna Laurie didn't get to finish her snack. We took the bag, and she looked confused as we laughed hilariously. "But how did you know?" Said Joshua. I grinned. "Previous experience".

Joshua learned later that the ladies had bought the dog biscuits for a craft project, but through some confusion a young man teaching the class handed them out instead.

"Another Slice of Memories, Please."

2007-12-08T21:22:00.000-08:00

Stereotypical memories of home and holidays usually involve some type of rich food. Especially around the holidays, we bring out the cherished family recipes that pack on the pounds. The kitchen becomes fragrant with breads, pies, and cakes.

I whipped up a batch of fudge the other day to really get into the spirit of Thanksgiving. Joshua and I sat and talked while I carefully cooked the sugar. We had a lively debate about how long to stir the fudge before pouring it into the pan. When we were done, it was silky smooth; and I wanted to eat the whole batch. I really need a healthier tradition.

For the past two Christmas holidays, my family has gone to a performance of Christmas music. In 2005, we went to hear Handel's Messiah at the Houston Symphony Orchestra. Last year, we saw the Nutcracker at the Houston Ballet. This year, we included my parents in this new tradition by taking them to the University of Southern Mississippi's Christmas Spectacular. As part of the one hundred and seventy-five member choir singing with the university's seventy piece orchestra, the music was more special to me than ever. There is nothing like feeling the power of Handel's Hallelujah Chorus in and around you as the percussive hallelujahs crescendo higher and higher to the very end. I would like Anna Laurie to remember from her childhood the warm and comforting sounds of music at home and in concert.

It is too idealistic to think that when Anna Laurie thinks of the warmth of home and the holidays she will think just of music. As much as Joshua and I like comforting food, she will think fondly of the brownies, fudge, pies, and cakes as well. I, myself, am partial to the sweetness of a good cappuccino as an essential element to a cozy evening at home or the perfect complement to a fine concert. Popcorn goes with movies. Coffee goes with conversation. Pumpkin pie goes with Thanksgiving, and rich candies go with Christmas. At least while we are enjoying the taste of home, I hope we can broaden our horizons to create the sounds of home. It won't add extra calories, and it will be a special memory for years to come.

Bitsy Said...

2007-11-26T15:39:00.000-08:00

"I'm a mother because I take care of people."
October 21, 2007

"I'm the mother of cleaning rooms."
November 5, 2007

Bitsy blinks at a bite of ice cream. "That's cold enough."
November 17, 2007

family member: What do you want for supper?
Bitsy: Dessert
November 22, 2007

What Kind of Recital?

2007-10-11T21:04:00.000-07:00

Rachel: Anna Laurie, would you like to go to another recital?

Anna Laurie: Yep.

Rachel: So.....you like recitals?

Anna Laurie: Yep.

Rachel: What did you like about the recitals.

Anna Laurie: Because I liked the "booster".

Rachel: What?

Anna Laurie: The "booster".

Rachel: What did the "booster" sound like?

Anna Laurie: You know, like this. (She pretends to bring something to her mouth and blow.)

Rachel: You mean a bassoon?

Anna Laurie: Yeah, but I mean a "booster".

The Violin

2007-10-11T18:01:00.000-07:00

My mother's family had a strong tradition of music. They gathered around the piano at every reunion and sang old hymns in four-part harmony. Mama told stories of her daddy teaching notes and harmonies to her and her sisters on the front porch in the evening. I never knew my Grandpa Alton, but I knew his brother, Uncle Earl. I can still hear him belting out a bass line or picking a guitar. He loved music so much that he built a room on the back of his house just for music. He kept many instruments there. That room was one of my favorite retreats as a child. It was a great place to keep up with my piano studies away from home, and experience other instruments. As heir to the family passion, I spent hours in that room exploring when we visited for summer vacations.

In the music room one day, I made an important discovery. I was a young teenager by that time, when I found a strange yet familiar black case there among the guitars, between the piano and the organ. I opened the case and saw the violin. It was just as I had seen in books and video, yet it was real. The violin weighed very little. The wood was dark and rich with a fine grain. On the back, streaks of cherry and amber faded to honey in the center around a filigree design. My fingers traced the smooth spiral at the end. Centuries of tradition were bound up in the f-shaped holes of the violin body. Many great composers had written beautiful music for this instrument. I picked up the bow and discovered the horsehair. I tried it gently across the strings to discover how it worked. The instrument shrieked. Violins do not like the inexperienced. Still, I was mesmerized. I had dreamed for years of playing the violin without much hope of ever seeing one. That day I held one in my hands. I never forgot my first introduction to the violin in Uncle Earl's music room.

I was rehearsing music with my friends a few years later, when I got the call that Uncle Earl had passed away. I can't think of anything I could have been doing that would have been more appropriate for that call. I took a moment to let it settle in and went back to work at the piano. The music helped. Months passed and I thought of the violin. I surprised Mama by mentioning it one day. She didn't know about it. It was still put away. No one played it, so no one wanted it. Mama would have bought it for me, knowing that I would care for it and use it; but Aunt Geneva gave it to me for a graduation present. I cannot look at the black case, the two bows, and the violin without thinking of my great-uncle, my family, and the music room.

The origin of the violin was a mystery. Someone said that Uncle Earl found it at a flea market. There were no markings on the inside of the violin. I took it to a violin shop to have a small crack repaired, and gained a little information from the man that repaired it. He was from Czechoslovakia, and he recognized the wood from his homeland. He approximated the age of the violin to be one hundred and fifty years old. The violin was styled after a Stradivarius. While not the work of a master, it was made by a very skilled craftsman. I like to imagine where the violin has been, who played it, and who brought it to America. The stories would be fascinating if only the violin could talk.

Since the violin has come into my possession, I have felt a responsibility to it. How do you own an object that has endured one hundred and fifty years? I am only the custodian to carry it into the next generation. It is a fine instrument, and fine instruments must be played and maintained. The violin struggled with me. It was a couple years until I gained anything more than the most basic instruction. I took a semester of violin from a graduate student, and the violin began to tolerate me better. I learned how to touch it with the bow. My arms and hands began to feel the violin and relax into the bow. On one or two rare occasions, the violin sang for me with its beautiful resonance. I liked to sit on the back porch in the melancholy rain and play the violin. A new set of strings was to the old violin like a new dress was to me on Easter Sunday. The piano was a more forgiving instrument that would cover up my feelings sometimes, but the violin always knew what I was feeling. It felt my fear. It screamed my frustration. It squeaked insecurity and tension. It mellowed with my tenderness and confidence. Through use and care, the tone of the violin became even richer.

I was devastated one day to open the case and find the violin broken. I'm still not sure how it happened, but the violin got too hot that summer. The neck pulled out of the body and bent upward. When I found it, the fingerboard was resting on the front of the violin. It could not make music. I was horrified. It was a link to my past, a special moment in the music room, memories of Uncle Earl, family reunions around the piano. It symbolized my family's smoldering passion for music that had been stirred to white-hot intensity in me. If it never made music again, I would still keep it for the memories, but I didn't want it to be dead. I wanted the music to live on in the violin. It was such a special heirloom because it was alive with music. I wanted the music to live for the next generation to hear and fall in love with. I took the violin back to the shop, and they were able to repair it. The joint where the neck was glued back into the violin looked very clean. It had survived so many years without lasting damage. I was so proud to play it again. The violin felt that and sang for me.

The violin begs me, each time I touch it, to take up my studies again. I hear it in the little squeaks and shivers of the strings. I shall have to take violin lessons again. It must be. I will never be a violinist. I started too late for that, but I will learn to play. I must play for my family, for Uncle Earl, for myself, for my daughter, for the love of music.

Rachel Rogers
September 21, 2007

Anna Laurie's Music

2007-10-11T17:08:00.000-07:00

Anna Laurie has shown an intrest in music. She has been playing with intervals on the piano. Lately, she learned all the "C"s on the piano. She sat through a piano concert Tuesday night that lasted an hour and a half. My piano professor, who also attended, was amazed that she only heard Bitsy whisper once. In fact, one hour into the concert Anna Laurie had been so quiet that Dr. Leventhal thought we must have left, and was surprised to find us still there at the end.

Body Origami

2007-10-11T16:36:00.000-07:00

My voice professor has been trying to get more sound out of me, but it is not that easy. Let's face it. I am sadly out of shape. Weak muscles loaded down with those few extra pounds fail to execute the strong bellows-like function that is required in good singing. I need exercise.

I walked into an exercise class last Saturday morning. The University provides them free to students, so I had no excuse. The schedule said that this was a Yoga class. I had visions of people closing their eyes and doing deep breathing excercises, but I really had no idea. I grabbed a mat and chose a spot at the back of the class. I had hunted for half an hour that morning to find tennis shoes to wear for exercise only to find that everyone in class was barefoot. I took off my shoes. When I jumped in, they were folding in half from the waist. Slowly we moved from position to position turning our bodies this way and that. We stretched out our legs, bent at the waist and twisted our arms toward the ceiling. Unfolding, we went lower on the mat. Making a straight line on the mat, we propped on our elbows. As my shoulders began to ache, the exercise changed and I had to walk my feet forward, folding my body until I was almost on my head. I think I know what paper feels like after it has been through origami. I felt like I should have looked like a swan or dragon or even just a little box. I guess, in my shape, I will settle for a limp noodle. After a few classes, now, I actually look forward to my body origami. I always wonder what fantastic shapes I will be transformed into next.

Que Sera, Sera?

2007-10-11T15:59:00.000-07:00

Joshua: (scrambling out of bed in the morning) We're late! Again!

Rachel: Don't get upset, it's just like an action movie where the hero and the villan are struggling on the edge of a precipice. The hero is slung over the edge to hang by his fingertips. Using all his strength, he pulls himself up, pounces on the villan, and clobbers him. I know we are late today, but we'll clobber this schedule yet. I just know we will.

Joshua: Que sera, sera.

Moved and Shaken

2007-09-07T16:47:00.000-07:00

Some people seem to have it all together. I really admire them, but lately I seem to be less of a "mover and shaker" as a "moved and shaken". Now that we are moved, I shall turn my attention to managing my week instead of having my week manage me, or run over me, or pulverize me into the dust, or...... ad infinitum, ad naseum.

The furniture is in place, though boxes still clutter the floor. I dug through things to find my oil painting and Joshua's antique map of South America. With them on the wall, I have found our home again. I pounded out Beethoven on my own piano in my own home last night. Finally!!!

Moving has its price. I made a sudden hard move and pulled my shoulder again. I favored it for a few days until I felt comfortable that it would not get as bad as before. As we were getting around for school this morning, I heard Joshua shriek. A muscle in his right neck and shoulder clenched and would not release. Still, he grabbed his 80 pound backpack and, listing to one side, trotted off to German class at eight. His head has been leaning to the left ever since. We just aren't what we used to be. Or is it that we weren't what we thought we were in the first place?

Anna Laurie is chattering of the parties and presents that she wants. She wants to give herself and everybody else presents. My little girl will soon be three years old!

A Great Morning

2007-08-28T19:08:00.000-07:00

I was lazy this morning. I got up at six instead of five. After staying up until two-thirty this morning, I wasn't in the mood to spend an early hour in a practice room with Beethoven no matter how lovely the light from the picture windows are that time of day. So, I waited and arrived on campus at seven. The bagel shop had my favorite bagel, blueberry. A hummingbird crossed my path on the way to the school of music. It was a beautiful morning.

Anna Laurie is singing "Go, Re, Mi". I'm studying Do, Re, Mi in theory class, and I am excited to work with her on it. I've been working with her on pitch for awhile now, but I want to get her to sing more than one note at a time. Levi, Jessica's youngest for now, was matching pitch with me tonight. It was so cute to hear him "ah" with me on a single note. He's one year old. I really get excited watching babies pick up music so early.

Things are progressing. Joshua is supposed to pick up the key to our apartment at nine in the morning. Yeah!!! I'm looking forward to having my piano available again, so that I can practice longer and more conveniently.

We are looking forward to seeing our church this weekend when we go back for the ordination of our friend Chris Meyers and the anniversary of the church.