January 17, 2012
November 19, 2011
Church Ball
Church basketball is notorious for bringing out the worst in Latter-Day Saints. And while I wouldn't say the same is true for volleyball, last night's church volleyball game has made me think that it's time to hang up my volleyball shoes. Never naturally athletic, volleyball has been the only team sport at which I have felt competent enough for a recreational (certainly not competitive) game here and there. There was competitive vibe during last night's game that prevented me from enjoying the sport like I normally do. Conversely, I am pretty sure I hindered the enjoyment of my teammates.
Pride injured, I wanted to make excuses for my playing--I was too cold, the net was too high, the gym is too big! And, aren't church sports supposed to be more relaxed, more low key, than this? Isn't this a venue in which mediocre players are supposed to be allowed a chance to participate?
Struggling with my dejected feelings, it occurred to me that church ball is emblematic of all of the problems inherent in a volunteer organization such as ours. My engineer husband, who approaches every job with efficiency and effectiveness, often struggles with inefficiencies and the never-ending call for more meetings. And, how many, participating in ward choir, have groaned because of the one monotone singer who faithfully attends every practice, and never sings in tune?
One dear friend of mine quit attending ward choir, and when I talked to her, she said that she had lost her voice, and it was time for her to hang up her vocal chords. She didn't want to be the one old lady that everyone wished wouldn't come to choir any more. I recalled her words last night after volleyball, and made the decision that I wouldn't be that person that everyone secretly wishes would stay away.
But what about those poor souls who never "get it"?
Two examples from the Savior's life come to mind: The instant in which the apostles wanted to send the children away so that Jesus could get some rest, and Jesus instead invited the children to come unto him; and the time when Jesus was found amongst the sinners and publicans, instead of the more "righteous" pharisees.
I'm not saying that my competitive volleyball friends are pharisees! But the Savior showed us how to be patient with those among us who are weak, and taught us to include everyone who wants to associate with us, even if we have to put aside our own desires for a "good game", or a pitch-perfect performance--a good lesson for me in my current calling as Ward Music Leader, and in whatever callings I may have in the future.
Pride injured, I wanted to make excuses for my playing--I was too cold, the net was too high, the gym is too big! And, aren't church sports supposed to be more relaxed, more low key, than this? Isn't this a venue in which mediocre players are supposed to be allowed a chance to participate?
Struggling with my dejected feelings, it occurred to me that church ball is emblematic of all of the problems inherent in a volunteer organization such as ours. My engineer husband, who approaches every job with efficiency and effectiveness, often struggles with inefficiencies and the never-ending call for more meetings. And, how many, participating in ward choir, have groaned because of the one monotone singer who faithfully attends every practice, and never sings in tune?
One dear friend of mine quit attending ward choir, and when I talked to her, she said that she had lost her voice, and it was time for her to hang up her vocal chords. She didn't want to be the one old lady that everyone wished wouldn't come to choir any more. I recalled her words last night after volleyball, and made the decision that I wouldn't be that person that everyone secretly wishes would stay away.
But what about those poor souls who never "get it"?
Two examples from the Savior's life come to mind: The instant in which the apostles wanted to send the children away so that Jesus could get some rest, and Jesus instead invited the children to come unto him; and the time when Jesus was found amongst the sinners and publicans, instead of the more "righteous" pharisees.
I'm not saying that my competitive volleyball friends are pharisees! But the Savior showed us how to be patient with those among us who are weak, and taught us to include everyone who wants to associate with us, even if we have to put aside our own desires for a "good game", or a pitch-perfect performance--a good lesson for me in my current calling as Ward Music Leader, and in whatever callings I may have in the future.
November 5, 2011
Musical Adventures from the Dunn Household
I have long been puzzling over how to approach my children's musical instruction. It's early to worry too much about it, but I'm very eager, and maybe a little pushy. Some families start their kids as young three years old, and if I were to follow suit, my oldest would have been playing for nearly five years, and my youngest would have started music lessons last year. I actually did attempt to start my kids as toddlers--we have a tiny violin with a broken neck to prove it.
It just so happens, that starting our children at three years old was impractical, if not impossible. There was no interest on my kids' end, and no patience on mine. It reminded me of the frustration I felt when I tried to read to my 6-month-old as a new mom. I had often been told of the benefits of reading to your baby, and warned of the consequences of not doing it; but learned that my son had no ability to sit still in my lap, no concept of what a page was, and no interest in letting me turn that page. I gave up. But only until Jeff was older, and now he loves reading!
When Jeff turned six, my husband started giving him piano lessons, and I started giving him violin lessons. I thought I was the expert, having taught hundreds of students; and that my husband was the amateur. I regret to say I was critical of my husband's relaxed approach, as I pushed Jeff to do everything exactly right--perfect posture, perfect intonation, perfect bow hold, etc. We got through our 100 lessons, as I advertised on the blog some time ago, and then we quit. On the other hand, Jeff is still going very strong on the piano.
Fine, Jeff can be a pianist. We'll need a good pianist if I'm going to play Brahms Piano Quartets with my kids. Maybe I should not have any of my children learn the violin. Girls and their mothers have enough issues between them without sharing an instrument. And they certainly can't play the same instrument as each other! Emmy seems like a viola personality to me. And that leaves Camille with...cello! Hooray!
Proud of myself for having figured it all out, I go out in search of a viola teacher for my five-year-old. As it happens, they don't really exist. Nor are there small-sized student violas. In the meantime, Jeff starts picking up the violin on his own, and asking me to teach him. I'm not about to fall into that trap, so I call another violin teacher, who says she can take him. (Dave wonders what in the world is wrong with his wife. Isn't one musical instrument enough for a boy? A boy who also takes dance classes? But he's good, I tell him--he's a natural dancer. Never mind that he's the only boy in the whole dance academy. Dancing will help him in all other sports, too, I remind Dave. So, Jeff can quit dance when you sign him up for soccer? Sure, I say--but I don't really mean it, because he's just so good! And that's going to be my struggle with Jeff in everything--he's good at everything he does. I know he can't do it all. But I can't not give him every opportunity, can I?)
All of that was the background to yesterday's events. I took the kids on a "field trip" to the music store, where I showed them what different string instruments sound like. I got down the big cello, and let the kids hear the sounds of the open strings, and then let the kids sit down and hold the cello. Emmy's eyes just lit up. I pulled out a viola, and while I was tuning that, Jeff said, "That sounds way cooler than the violin!" Camille just ran around, while I tried to keep her from banging on the drum set in the corner. There will be no drums in this house, not if I can help it!
Since Jeff can't take viola lessons yet, I will proceed with the violin lessons that have been arranged, so that he can easily transfer to viola when he's a few years older. And Emmy will be our cellist! When I told this to Dave, he said, "I always thought of Emmy as being more of a cello person." I should have asked him in the first place, I think to myself, until Dave adds, "I see Camille as a flutist."
It just so happens, that starting our children at three years old was impractical, if not impossible. There was no interest on my kids' end, and no patience on mine. It reminded me of the frustration I felt when I tried to read to my 6-month-old as a new mom. I had often been told of the benefits of reading to your baby, and warned of the consequences of not doing it; but learned that my son had no ability to sit still in my lap, no concept of what a page was, and no interest in letting me turn that page. I gave up. But only until Jeff was older, and now he loves reading!
When Jeff turned six, my husband started giving him piano lessons, and I started giving him violin lessons. I thought I was the expert, having taught hundreds of students; and that my husband was the amateur. I regret to say I was critical of my husband's relaxed approach, as I pushed Jeff to do everything exactly right--perfect posture, perfect intonation, perfect bow hold, etc. We got through our 100 lessons, as I advertised on the blog some time ago, and then we quit. On the other hand, Jeff is still going very strong on the piano.
Fine, Jeff can be a pianist. We'll need a good pianist if I'm going to play Brahms Piano Quartets with my kids. Maybe I should not have any of my children learn the violin. Girls and their mothers have enough issues between them without sharing an instrument. And they certainly can't play the same instrument as each other! Emmy seems like a viola personality to me. And that leaves Camille with...cello! Hooray!
Proud of myself for having figured it all out, I go out in search of a viola teacher for my five-year-old. As it happens, they don't really exist. Nor are there small-sized student violas. In the meantime, Jeff starts picking up the violin on his own, and asking me to teach him. I'm not about to fall into that trap, so I call another violin teacher, who says she can take him. (Dave wonders what in the world is wrong with his wife. Isn't one musical instrument enough for a boy? A boy who also takes dance classes? But he's good, I tell him--he's a natural dancer. Never mind that he's the only boy in the whole dance academy. Dancing will help him in all other sports, too, I remind Dave. So, Jeff can quit dance when you sign him up for soccer? Sure, I say--but I don't really mean it, because he's just so good! And that's going to be my struggle with Jeff in everything--he's good at everything he does. I know he can't do it all. But I can't not give him every opportunity, can I?)
All of that was the background to yesterday's events. I took the kids on a "field trip" to the music store, where I showed them what different string instruments sound like. I got down the big cello, and let the kids hear the sounds of the open strings, and then let the kids sit down and hold the cello. Emmy's eyes just lit up. I pulled out a viola, and while I was tuning that, Jeff said, "That sounds way cooler than the violin!" Camille just ran around, while I tried to keep her from banging on the drum set in the corner. There will be no drums in this house, not if I can help it!
Since Jeff can't take viola lessons yet, I will proceed with the violin lessons that have been arranged, so that he can easily transfer to viola when he's a few years older. And Emmy will be our cellist! When I told this to Dave, he said, "I always thought of Emmy as being more of a cello person." I should have asked him in the first place, I think to myself, until Dave adds, "I see Camille as a flutist."
October 18, 2011
Healing Power of Music, another example
Afternoon is the hardest time of day for me. I've heard other moms say the same thing. I had one of those extra hard afternoons yesterday. There was no particular reason, just the usual tired and hungry symptoms, and little things just kept adding up--we were running late, the kids couldn't find their shoes, there was a bad smell, etc. After the kids were packed into the van, and we were finally on the way to our destination, we kept getting stuck behind drivers who wouldn't turn, or who wouldn't go the speed limit. I was still edgy, and my mood threatened to ruin our outing.
Classical music was playing on the radio, and Jeff, who often complains that I don't listen to "cool" music like his dad does, heard something he recognized in the music, and wanted to know what it was. Everyone in the car focused on the music, trying to guess what it was. I knew that I had played it before--I had vague memories of a conductor castigating the first violin section in these very passages.
It didn't take too long for me to identify it as Beethoven's First Symphony, but what made the moment magical was that even after we'd figured out what it was, where we'd heard it before, etc., we all kept listening. And while we enjoyed the playful rhythms of the scherzo, and the lively last movement, I felt the tension evaporate, and we went on to have the most enjoyable evening together.
Thanks, Beethoven!
Classical music was playing on the radio, and Jeff, who often complains that I don't listen to "cool" music like his dad does, heard something he recognized in the music, and wanted to know what it was. Everyone in the car focused on the music, trying to guess what it was. I knew that I had played it before--I had vague memories of a conductor castigating the first violin section in these very passages.
It didn't take too long for me to identify it as Beethoven's First Symphony, but what made the moment magical was that even after we'd figured out what it was, where we'd heard it before, etc., we all kept listening. And while we enjoyed the playful rhythms of the scherzo, and the lively last movement, I felt the tension evaporate, and we went on to have the most enjoyable evening together.
Thanks, Beethoven!
October 4, 2011
The Downside of Practicing
I tortured my family when I was in high school.
Every morning, I'd trot downstairs to the music room, which shared a wall with my three brothers' bedroom, carefully tune my violin, and proceed to work on a lengthy series of scales, arpeggios and etudes. While they were trying to sleep.
And again, every night, after everyone had gone to bed, I'd get out the old fiddle, and practice some more. Sometimes, I would be so kind as to leave the music room, and practice in the living room, so that not only could basement-dwelling brothers enjoy it, my violin could resonate throughout our entire house.
I imagine there was some celebration when I left home for college, although I continued torturing everyone else I lived with since--from roommates, mission companions, my spouse, to my children. To all of those who endured the screeching and scratching for countless hours:
Thank you!
Every morning, I'd trot downstairs to the music room, which shared a wall with my three brothers' bedroom, carefully tune my violin, and proceed to work on a lengthy series of scales, arpeggios and etudes. While they were trying to sleep.
And again, every night, after everyone had gone to bed, I'd get out the old fiddle, and practice some more. Sometimes, I would be so kind as to leave the music room, and practice in the living room, so that not only could basement-dwelling brothers enjoy it, my violin could resonate throughout our entire house.
I imagine there was some celebration when I left home for college, although I continued torturing everyone else I lived with since--from roommates, mission companions, my spouse, to my children. To all of those who endured the screeching and scratching for countless hours:
Thank you!
September 2, 2011
Healing Power
For as long as I can remember, I've been inflicted with what my mom calls, "Friday headaches." Apparently, I absorb all of the stress between Monday and Thursday, and then that stress manifests itself in these agonizing headaches, while everyone else is whooping and hollering, "TGIF!!!!"
It seems like Friday would then be a terrible time to schedule a rehearsal, and yet, Fridays usually just work out for Robyn's and my schedule the best. But then, something remarkable has been happening: I start each session with a throbbing head, but feel just fine by the end of the rehearsal, sometimes more energized!
In case you are interested, we are preparing for a Nampa Music Club meeting next Saturday, September 10th at 1 p.m. at the Presbyterian church on Lake Lowell. Robyn will be performing several solos, and I will join her for two Kreisler pieces.
It seems like Friday would then be a terrible time to schedule a rehearsal, and yet, Fridays usually just work out for Robyn's and my schedule the best. But then, something remarkable has been happening: I start each session with a throbbing head, but feel just fine by the end of the rehearsal, sometimes more energized!
In case you are interested, we are preparing for a Nampa Music Club meeting next Saturday, September 10th at 1 p.m. at the Presbyterian church on Lake Lowell. Robyn will be performing several solos, and I will join her for two Kreisler pieces.
August 13, 2011
Hobby?
I was consulting with a doctor recently, and in the course of the conversation, he asked what I do. I told him that mainly, I was a mother, but that I was also a violinist. Later on in the meeting, he referred to music as my "hobby," and then talked about how he wished he had more time for his hobbies.
Had I been a lawyer, who had put my career on hold to have a family, occasionally offering legal advice now and again, would anyone refer to that as a "hobby?" I dare say, they would not!
I guess that is one of the perils of doing something you love, rather than something that makes money. To be fair, no one has to certify in violin playing to perform--and there are certainly a lot of fine amateur musicians who really do play just for fun. In a way, I wish I could say that I play "for fun," but I really don't have fun unless I'm seriously playing.
So, I bristle when someone asks me if I'm "still playing the ol' violin," as if it were something I could ever not do. As much as I hate to be defined by others as a violinist, as if there were no other human qualities about me, I AM a violinist--and it's no hobby!
Had I been a lawyer, who had put my career on hold to have a family, occasionally offering legal advice now and again, would anyone refer to that as a "hobby?" I dare say, they would not!
I guess that is one of the perils of doing something you love, rather than something that makes money. To be fair, no one has to certify in violin playing to perform--and there are certainly a lot of fine amateur musicians who really do play just for fun. In a way, I wish I could say that I play "for fun," but I really don't have fun unless I'm seriously playing.
So, I bristle when someone asks me if I'm "still playing the ol' violin," as if it were something I could ever not do. As much as I hate to be defined by others as a violinist, as if there were no other human qualities about me, I AM a violinist--and it's no hobby!
July 1, 2011
Twin Falls Recital News Release
Robyn and I are featured in the Times News Arts and Entertainment section for a recital we will be giving there in two weeks. (It is a repeat performance of the "Sounds of Spring" concert we gave earlier this year, except with a name change to suit the month of July!)
My experience with the press hasn't been too positive lately, especially when it comes to photographs. Some time ago, when she lost the photo that I had submitted, one newspaper's writer did a Google search, and found an unflattering photo of me, which was then published to my chagrin.
In this case, wanting a photo of Robyn and me together and not having one, someone did a little photo-shopping, and created one of their own. I guess I have to give whoever it was credit for trying--but if I had been given just one more day, I would have submitted a brand-new photo of Robyn and I had taken two nights ago. Here it is:
Worse than the edited photo are the edited bios! I appreciate someone wanting to pad my resume to make me sound more impressive, but it's not entirely honest, and I hate to have anyone misled as to my actual accomplishments.
However, the essential information correct--the date, time and location of the recital (Saturday, July 16th at 7:30 p.m. at the new Twin Falls Center for the Arts). If you're in the area, hope to see you there!
My experience with the press hasn't been too positive lately, especially when it comes to photographs. Some time ago, when she lost the photo that I had submitted, one newspaper's writer did a Google search, and found an unflattering photo of me, which was then published to my chagrin.
In this case, wanting a photo of Robyn and me together and not having one, someone did a little photo-shopping, and created one of their own. I guess I have to give whoever it was credit for trying--but if I had been given just one more day, I would have submitted a brand-new photo of Robyn and I had taken two nights ago. Here it is:
Worse than the edited photo are the edited bios! I appreciate someone wanting to pad my resume to make me sound more impressive, but it's not entirely honest, and I hate to have anyone misled as to my actual accomplishments.
However, the essential information correct--the date, time and location of the recital (Saturday, July 16th at 7:30 p.m. at the new Twin Falls Center for the Arts). If you're in the area, hope to see you there!
June 12, 2011
Top Ten Sonatas
Sometimes I hear Sonatas described as stuffy, serious music for snobby classical music audiences, as opposed to crowd-pleasing showpieces. Perhaps it's because of the whole "knowing when to clap" issue that arises during a multi-movement piece (I say, clap whenever you want to!), or because of the concentration it takes to appreciate a sonata in its entirety that I am warned not to program too many of them. But I really love the violin/piano Sonata repertoire, and I often program more than one when I give a recital. I love the filling out of a musical idea across three or four movements, as well as the partnership between the instruments. Plus, there are so many good ones to choose from!
In no particular order:
1. Franck
2. Beethoven's "Kreutzer"
3. Ravel
4. Brahms
5. Brahms
6. Brahms
7. Mozart Sonata No. 10 in B flat, K. 378
8. Beethoven "Spring"
9. Beethoven No. 7 in C minor
10. Copeland
Neglected on my list are the wonderful Baroque sonatas of Bach, Handel, Corelli and Tartini. Also worth mentioning are several other French works including those by LeClaire, Faure, and Debussy. In short, what you are actually seeing here is music that I hope to program someday, if I haven't already!
In no particular order:
1. Franck
2. Beethoven's "Kreutzer"
3. Ravel
4. Brahms
5. Brahms
6. Brahms
7. Mozart Sonata No. 10 in B flat, K. 378
8. Beethoven "Spring"
9. Beethoven No. 7 in C minor
10. Copeland
Neglected on my list are the wonderful Baroque sonatas of Bach, Handel, Corelli and Tartini. Also worth mentioning are several other French works including those by LeClaire, Faure, and Debussy. In short, what you are actually seeing here is music that I hope to program someday, if I haven't already!
May 24, 2011
The Wand Chooses the Wizard
I've been looking into finding a new bow to go with the new violin. I'm having a harder time doing this than I did choosing a violin. I'm hoping for some magic to help me decide, similar to what happened when Harry Potter went to Olivander's to pick out his wand. But does a bow choose it's violin, or it's violinist? And how does one shop, when one can't just take a trip to Diagon Alley?
May 7, 2011
Abandoned?
The night before I acquired my new violin, I spent some time practicing. I was trying to get warmed up and ready so that I'd have something to play when Terry brought the new violin, but Dave heard me and said, "Having one last night with Bosco?" (He named my old violin Bosco. That was never my idea. Ever.) At that moment, I felt a tinge of guilt, sorry that I was about to abandon my faithful friend of 14 years.
I have had similar feelings the night before each of my girls were born--that Jeff would never be an only child again when Emmy was born, and that Emmy would never be an only girl when Camille was born. But I would only be adding to my family, not replacing any of my children. Unlike my children, my old violin has been relegated to a dark case under the table.
"Bosco" is a great violin. It really deserves to be played on by a competent musician. I am not sure I want to sell it--I hope that one of my children might be able to play on it some day. But it will decline if it's not played on until that time.
I've heard of fine violins being loaned out to concert artists. Do you think I could do that on a smaller scale--loan out my violin to a promising high school student or young college student who needs a better ax while they save for their own? If any of you reading this knows anyone who might benefit from such an arrangement, please contact me!
I have had similar feelings the night before each of my girls were born--that Jeff would never be an only child again when Emmy was born, and that Emmy would never be an only girl when Camille was born. But I would only be adding to my family, not replacing any of my children. Unlike my children, my old violin has been relegated to a dark case under the table.
"Bosco" is a great violin. It really deserves to be played on by a competent musician. I am not sure I want to sell it--I hope that one of my children might be able to play on it some day. But it will decline if it's not played on until that time.
I've heard of fine violins being loaned out to concert artists. Do you think I could do that on a smaller scale--loan out my violin to a promising high school student or young college student who needs a better ax while they save for their own? If any of you reading this knows anyone who might benefit from such an arrangement, please contact me!
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