My First Bach Invention

After a couple of months, I have finally gained control of my first Bach invention (his #1). The first of many to come, I hope. I have long been familiar with his beautiful array of music but I had not played Bach prior to this piece. At first attempt, I was sure I would never get it. Bach may have had no problem composing and playing his works but I felt like I needed three hands to achieve what probably was child's play for him. I spent many an hour grinding away at the piece only to dissolve into tears and know that I would never get it. But as with my ballet, I always returned to the challenge and faced it head on, not letting it get the better of me. As a result, in short time, I turned the corner (as I frequently do) and came to really fall in love with his music as a pianist. It's challenging in so many ways. I find the intricacy quite fascinating, that is when it isn't driving me up the wall. His compositions (as anyone who knows Bach's works) are a showcase of his indescribable musical brilliance. It's very much like patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time. He was a genius and to be able to master even a simple piece of his gives me a wonderful feeling of accomplishment.

There is more work to be done on this piece, to be sure. There is one unfortunate pause (break) in the play, which I attributed to nerves, as I recorded this. It loses some of its original aural quality as it is recorded digitally on my piano. All I can say is "thank God, I'm not aspiring to Carnegie Hall". My living room will do just fine.

Note:  The prior recording that was logged here is not available.  I will have to establish a new recording, to be posted as soon as possible.  Thank you.

F.E.H.B.

The most fascinating part of playing the piano is how the FINGERS, EYES, HEART and BRAIN work, though not always in harmonious unison. It is an amazing process, but one that also has its frustrations as well as its elations. I am continually intrigued, yet challenged, by the ongoing tug between brain and fingers. As I learn a new piece it seems like a huge hurdle for both – the eyes have to take in the new notes and the brain has to make the fingers hit the right keys, while the heart pounds away with anticipation and nervousness. Sometimes I will sense that my brain is trying to pull me back and protect me from going the wrong direction on the keyboard or playing the wrong notes and other times my heart sends my fingers tumbling across the keyboard on their own and my brain is in neutral knowing that I am perfectly okay. It is indeed an odd feeling to realize that my fingers have a sense of their own. When this happens, the elation sets in and a broad smile crosses my face and I wonder to myself “did I do that?”. Those are the moments that pianists live for – that sense of ease and complete comfort in a piece where everything falls into place.

Of course, getting to that point is a process in itself. Starting and stopping, seemingly a million times over and breaking down sections that seem utterly simple yet pose difficulties that our brain can’t process. Practicing the right hand separately from the left and then bringing the two together poses what I can only term as a schizophrenic puzzle for my poor brain. Each stands confidently on its own but when joined with the other, presents new emotional demands requiring time and patience … not something I’m long on. I so often feel a sense of urgency to make continued progress at a particular pace and will put undue pressure on myself. This only adds bad “fuel to the fire” and it’s at those moments that I have to get up, walk away and shake it off.

My teacher has been wonderfully patient and encouraging though, showing me little tricks to curb the frustration and enhance the technique. As they say, “two eyes are better than one”. So true! She always reminds me that it should be a pleasurable process – not one of berating myself and pounding the keys in exasperation. I have shed some tears though when faced with a particularly tricky passage and what seems like a mountain of notes to climb. But we both know that one day, it will just happen. As effortlessly as I had hoped, my brain will relax and it will fall into place. Once again, those are the glorious moments of acquiring the skill of a playing a musical instrument. The keyboard is, of course, a unique challenge because it requires two hands playing at the same time. No other instrument operates this way. A violin, and even a clarinet, has only one line of notes, i.e. no upper and lower hands like the piano. So, the ultimate mastery of playing this beautiful instrument is that much more enriching. And I was wondering how I would keep my brain cells active as I enter my later years – Hahhh!! I can cross that concern off my list☺

The Sheer Joy

It is very difficult to express how much joy I am deriving from playing the piano once again. Having the opportunity to revive a passion is a rare experience and I’ve discovered that going back to my piano studies has made my life so much richer. There is the inevitable challenge of returning to the keyboard and awakening the skills that lay dormant in me for so many years, but I am relishing that challenge each time I sit down at the piano. In the beginning, frustration is a frequent emotion as well as other obvious hurdles I have to overcome, such as nervousness, my sense of impatience, solidifying my sight-reading and developing the dexterity in my fingers – all of which are that much more difficult in later years. But I also feel a renewed sense of determination that I did not have as a child that pushes me in a more focused direction. I willingly sit down at the piano each day with a real sense of purpose and determination that I did not have as a 10 year old. I find practicing to be absorbing and gratifying and will easily clock 3-4 hours over the course of the day.

I am also making continual and fascinating discoveries regarding how our brains retain information and how our fingers develop muscle memory. The process is an amazing and intriguing one. Each day I learn something new about myself, as I make little leaps of progress. Sometimes it is two steps forward and one step back and other times it is one step forward and two steps back. But remarkably the brain “figures it out”, and over time, I will see a breakthrough that is so utterly exhilarating, it takes my breath away. When I least expect it, I will hear and see myself effortlessly play a passage that I had struggled with for days. I may then lose it for a little bit, but it does eventually come back. Of course, achieving consistency is the real hallmark of ultimate progress and I know in time, that too, will come.

I feel truly blessed to be able to pursue this love of music that I hold so dear in my life. I am also very fortunate to be able to study with an inspiring and supportive teacher that knows just how much to push me, so I can realize my potential. What that potential is at this point, I cannot tell, but the journey is an instructive one, to be sure, and a glorious pursuit.

"The Children of Chabannes"

I seem to be in a movie phase, but as we tend to watch many Netflix rentals at home, this is no surprise to me, nor friends and family that know us. Tonight, my husband and I watched a wonderful documentary called "The Children of Chabannes". Just when you think there simply can't be one more movie about Jews being rescued during the Holocaust, along comes another gem to surprise your brain and elevate your spirits. And, we can always make room for a movie about decent human beings - after all, this world in many ways has not yet learned the lessons of the mid-twentieth century.

The movie tells of a small, isolated agricultural community in southern France, in the region of Creuse. There, a remarkable group of people led by Felix Chevrier, sheltered some 400 Jewish children (from Germany and Austria) who were "released" by their parents for safety, as their parents were sent east to a certain death. The very notion of giving up one's children under any conditions is almost unthinkable, but that these parents were able to separate during a time of war speaks volumes about their courage. With the help of the children's aid society (OSE), these children came to be sheltered by decent and nurturing French men and women who ultimately would serve as surrogate parents. The townspeople, having little to no previous exposure to Jews, and no access to the anti-Semitic railings of the Parisian newspapers, were able to retain their humanity and saw only threatened children in need.

They attempted to provide as normal a life as possible, integrating the Jewish refugee children with those of the local town. The children went to school, learned French and survived with relative comfort until the Vichy government stepped up its round-up efforts in mid-late 1942. Unfortunately, six teenage boys fell victim to one such round-up. Two of them survived multiple concentration camps but the other four never returned. After this devastating experience, the childrens' protectors vowed to do everything they could to disperse their charges to safer private homes and/or ferry them across the border into Switzerland. As a result, many survived the war, though they would never be reunited with their parents.

It was most gratifying to see that Yad Vashem in Jerusalem, Israel has honored these brave individuals who put their own lives on the line for doing something that seems humanly basic: protecting the young and innocent. We heartily recommend this well-done documentary.

Unfortunate Formula

Although $12.50 isn’t a vast amount by any means, I wish I had both the money and the time I’d spent watching “Black Swan” back. Unfortunately, the perceived formula for successful films in Hollywood today is a strange one. Movies don’t seem to have a straightforward plot line anymore – today’s directors want them to have an “edge”. In the case of Black Swan, it is laced with horror, hallucinations and lesbian love scenes. I will deal with the altered version of the ballet’s choreography later.

As things turned out, I had not intended to watch this movie in the theatre. I did not have a strong enough interest in it and was content to wait to view it on Netflix. But as it was a rainy day and my husband and I could not get in to see the movie of our first choice, we fell back on Black Swan instead. The feeling of the settling for next best is not a consoling outcome, but we tried to make the best of it. Being an afternoon matinee, the theatre was not even 1/3 full. Once the movie began, as with most these days, the volume of the music hit us over the head like a sledge hammer. Not a great way to start. But it was the troubling multitude of messages that the story included that turned us both off. Having been a professional dancer myself, for a short while, I could identify with the life that was depicted, to some degree. But, the movie’s story line accentuated some the public’s perceptions of a ballet dancer’s life and outright distorted other aspects, making the viewer almost uneasy as the story developed.

Natalie Portman, in the lead role, does an excellent job in this otherwise Twilight Zone-ish story, even if her character is lacking the confidence a successful dancer needs to get to the top. Dancers with timidity simply don’t get ahead in the dog-eat-dog world of ballet. That aside, she is beautiful to watch on the screen and has done considerable homework in preparing for this role. Her carriage and movements are well executed, though many of the shots and scenes that involve detailed pointe work are executed by a professional dancer that doubles for her. But viewers may feel somewhat nauseated from the dizzying camera work that prevails throughout much of the film. I suppose one of the “techniques” that directors use when shooting a film where they want to convey the illusion and not too much detail, is to keep the cameras darting about. Well, it may cover up the finer details but it is infuriating to watch. Many of the scenes come across as a blur and I didn’t like it at all. I could have used a dose of Dramamine.

I felt that the story itself had potential and they didn’t have to Hollywood-ize with the horror sub-plot. Today’s moviegoers apparently want all the whiz-bang effects as well as watching a movie that includes scenes with bi-sexual and homosexual overtones.

I did like the use of the ballet’s music throughout the movie as an appropriate accompaniment. But as I mentioned earlier, the volume in the theatres is simply too loud. It gets to a point where it not only hurts one’s ears but it is so loud that it ruins the effect. As for the choreography, it left much to be desired. The story line is one of a leading New York ballet company putting on a “new version” of the classic Swan Lake. For the record, I’m not big on “new versions” of classics. A classic is a classic for a reason … because it will live forever and therefore shouldn’t be tampered with. Yes, I know, everyone has put his stamp on it, from modern to jazz to an all male gay version. The problem though with this choreography was that it truly looked ridiculous. It wasn’t believable and didn’t fit within the story line. But once again, the camera did so much whizzing and darting around to “cover” for the non-dancer actresses that it was most annoying. I won’t say anything more about the plot in case you want to see it but think twice before you lay down $12.50!

A Necessary Movie

One has no trouble coming to logical and just conclusions about the perpetrators of evil in any war, but rarely do we think about their children, who are left to live with an awful legacy. That is the foundation for this moving and complex film. Titled “Inheritance”, it aptly describes the proverbial baggage that is handed off, in this case, to the daughter of one of World War II’s most monstrous participants – Amon Goeth. As commandant of the Płaszów concentration camp in Kraków, Poland, he was feared as someone who tortured and killed Jews regularly.

After viewing Steven Spielberg’s now famous movie, “Schindler’s List”, Goeth’s daughter Monika is confronted with the image and legacy of her father and must somehow come to terms with reality. Through no fault of her own, she endeavors to make sense of the past by reaching out to one of the survivors of the camp. It is an extraordinary action which is met with equal compassion by Helen Jonas-Rosezweig – Goeth’s Jewish slave servant during his time at the camp.

I was quite moved by the bravery on both their parts and though not an easy movie to watch, it is a very necessary documentary which serves to remind us not only of the mistakes of the past but of the redemptive possibilities for the future. I highly recommend it!

The Least We Can Do is Say Thank You!

As a volunteer at the Bob Hope Hollywood USO - LAX, I see these men and women as they pass through the Los Angeles Airport. It is an honor to be able to thank them for their selfless service. Because of them, we sleep securely and wake knowing they are on the front lines protecting our freedoms. Please go to this site and send them a thank you - it's the least we can do for the sacrifices they've made. Thank you!