A little snippet of thought

Today we had a discussion in response to the 2012 Peggy Glanville-Hicks address given by Michael Kieran Harvey. (It can be found here) There were some interesting points made, some things to consider, and I brought up a few large questions and thoughts that may take many years to answer. However, one of them, why do I do music? is a question I ask myself quite regularly, and one that I am often asked by people I meet. And earlier in my life, I would probably have answered this question quite differently (mostly with a 'because I can, and because I'm alright at it') but have been challenged to question really why. And I think I've found myself being  more comfortable with my choices now. This is not to say it hasn't been a challenge and struggle at times. Many times, and still now, I struggle with the fact that music can be an entirely self-seeking and self-serving career choice, one that might not benefit anybody else in this world directly (let's put it this way, I'm not saving lives like a doctor, I know this), and how to serve this world and to live out my faith in my work.

I honestly believe I've been given a great gift. And I admit, I like it. It's quite nifty, it has lots of exciting things (well, I think it's exciting). And yes, sometimes it is a little too easy to think that I am where I am because of all my hard work. But circumstances, such as my present one, constantly remind me that this is not the case. Reminders that tell me some (many...) things are beyond my control. And yes, I'll admit that I love doing what I do - I love the social interaction, I love the working process, I love creating things, and I love the buzz of performing, presenting a concert, showing the world what I can do. But I know I seek affirmation, and for expectations to be met. Those of my friends, colleagues, teachers, and ultimately myself.
But what I truly also love is to be able to share my gift, and what I do, with other people. What would be the point of me holing myself up in a room for hours a day if nobody could experience the joy that this music also gives me? The performance is the culmination, but also only a small glimpse into the entire creative process that gives me excitement and joy.

But when I really think about it, as I had to once when having a very honest discussion with a friend about what things were important in my life, music - for all that it appears to be to those around me (close or not) - remains third on my list of important things, behind God and relationships with family and friends. How much more exciting must these two things be?! How much more effort and persistance must these take? How much greater the reward in life (and post this life on earth)? And the way I see it, ultimately my life must serve the most important thing in my life, and all the things below #1 must point upwards. In my approach to why, and how I care about, and spend my efforts.

And maybe for others that's not how it works for them. Which is maybe why I can't always reconcile my part in this world, or this industry. And maybe why I'll never understand.

But that's me. That's why.

A long overdue post

My gravest apologies if you're an eager reader who has had to wait several months for another post. You must forgive me, as it has been quite busy, and I am not so good at sitting down to type my thoughts out for the general public to read. Post Townsville, there was much to do. ANAM kept me well and truly busy, with many projects, including a two-week residency by David Dolan, Head of Classical Improvisation at the Guildhall School, Les Six week, second round of concerto competition, and a few recitals, including my own. I am proud to say that I am alive after it all, and am thankful to have survived it relatively unscathed!

It was great to have David Dolan back at ANAM this year; after last year's work with classical improvisation, it was nice to revisit some of these things - concepts, games and to also have grown so much across a year. So this year, we played some more games, and also launched into improvisation over harmonic foundations. It also helped that he articulated that he thought I was very musical, which is a nice validation of what I'm pursuing! I also managed to have a lesson with him, where we played games with improvisation, and I also took to him part of my Mozart concerto, which I was playing in the second round of the concerto competition. This was extremely refreshing, to be given morsels of ideas about the liberties one might take in order to make this piece truly my own. I also played him my cadenza to the first movement, which I had written earlier in the year. Granted, it is a mish-mash and somewhat appropriated from several other famous (and not so famous) cadenzi, with some of my own quirks. And I know it's not to everybody's taste (or some parts of it anyway!), but I truly was very satisfied with it. In some little way, I came to know a small part of the composition process: the muddled thoughts, the overwhelming amount of material, the frustration of not being able to make it work, and the eventual joy of making a creation that became truly my own across time.

I also floated the idea of improvising a little segment in my recital in September, as a transition between Scarlatti sonatas, to which David was heartily enthusiastic. I have to admit to not having sent a copy of my recital to him yet, as he asked! How does one practice for this? You ask. Well, I found it quite difficult. Where does one start? How does one get ideas? I thought about harmonic structure, of getting from one key to the next, I thought about using chorale melodies (Lutheran hymns, compiled by Bach) and trying to improvise a small fugue (VERY DIFFICULT!), and then finally settled on some sort of motif of which it would then grow. I did eventually do it in my recital, which was a bit scary, but also very liberating. I remember thinking, in the middle of it, "This is great! I have no idea how this will go, or how it will end, but there is no wrong or right!" How refreshing.

The other thing that was refreshing was to be able to play a piece of chamber music at ANAM more than once. A couple of most excellent double reed players were assembled to play Poulenc's Trio for Oboe, Bassoon and Piano for Les Six week. They were most enjoyable to play and rehearse with, and with the exception of a couple of minor disagreements, there were no (bad) issues at all. We had a few tutes with various people, which we enjoyed to varying degrees and then took and ran with our musical ideas.

There have been a few other projects in and out and after that. One was The Impossible Orchestra (not an ANAM project, but involved lots of ANAM musicians), which as an orchestral project designed to raise awareness about carers in Australia, and the nature of their job being full-time and essential (among other things). Thus, an orchestra was formed which would play for 24hrs in eight 3hr segments; the musicians rotated across the time period according to availability and what not, and the 3hr segment was repeated (so not new stuff all the time!), and interspersed with videos featuring some of the carers, and also celebrity conductors and the like. This was a massive undertaking, with musicians from Melbourne (and also some from other parts of the country) making up the orchestra. I would never have thought I would get the chance to play a (little) solo at Hamer Hall, but there you go, I did! It was a pretty crazy project, and one that was enjoyable and enlightening to be a part of.

In most recent time, my latest adventure has been a most exciting one. Last week we met Peter Hill, who is a British pianist who studied with Messiaen for a time (and is also known for his Bach - Peter, not necessarily Messiaen). We, the piano department of four students at ANAM, would be going to play Visions de l'Amen with Peter at the Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) in Tasmania and the Synaesthesia festival, held over the first weekend in November. This work is scored for two pianos - it was the first piece Messiaen wrote after being released from a concentration camp during WW2 and like much of his music, is deeply Catholic, and also features some birds. It was written for Messiaen himself (piano 2 part, with the thematic material) and Yvonne Loriad, his second wife, who was a very talented pianist (piano 1 part, lots of virtuosic stuff). Guess which part we got 'stuck' with?!? However challenging the part was, it was a steep and good challenge. We had two days with Peter in Melbourne where we workshopped the piece in movements, which we had divided between the four of us. This was a fairly painless process, and really quite enjoyable - it was not difficult (as I had imagined) to put together and Peter defied my expectation (however unjustified) that a British guy would be extremely particular and the rehearsal process very nit-picky! We had a couple more rehersals in Hobart at MONA to adjust to different instruments and the room. One of the interesting things about the festival and being artists was that we were also able to explore the museum. The museum itself was shut over the weekend to general public who had not purchased a $605 ticket to the festival. This ticket allowed patrons to enjoy the museum (relatively emptily, as the day before it shut for the weekend there were about 1400 patrons!), and attend the various concerts, and be fed and watered very well!

MONA is truly fascinating. It is just outside Hobart, and belongs to David Walsh, who created it - the building itself, a beautiful architectural concept built into a rock face, and the collection, an eccentric and very diverse one spanning large amounts of time, mediums and concepts. Concerts were held in different rooms and spaces through the gallery, and most of these spaces proved to be excellent concert venues, where one could possibly enjoy visual art simultaneously and sound could filter through parts of the building. Synaesthesia is a neurological condition in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to an automatic, involuntary experience in another sensory or cognitive pathway. (Thank you Wikipeadia. Check out the article for more about it, fascinating). For example, music and colour, or numbers and emotions. Forgive my simple and brash explanations. Anyway, so this festival was about the combination of senses. Which I think is also very appropriate for a venue like MONA.

We performed our Messiaen in The Organ Room, which has an organ (ta-dah!) as well as a wall of greenery of ferns and other plants when you walk out of the lift. Usually, the room also has a myriad of small glass windows to reveal a most stunning view of Hobart. However, each of these windows (yes, EACH one) was blacked out so that our performance could include lighting effects to complement the music.

You may ask, "How does a fairly conservative, Christian girl who studies the piano, end up going to play music of a overtly Catholic man in a venue that is known to be confronting and controversial, owned by a man who is anti-Christian?" This circumstance puzzled me prior to going, but I was determined to have an open mind, and to be take in the experience of this museum, as an artist and interested person. I am thankful that The Organ Room was harmless in every way, and in fact, very pleasant! There is no doubt that I would characterise the museum as generally weird and fascinating; some is very cool, some is disturbing (as in I wouldn't tell my parents about it, let alone encourage them to go as they are even more conservative than me). As a concert and musical experience, it was pretty incredible - getting to play one of the most incredible pieces of music in a cleverly conceived concept and space, for a (mostly) appreciatve audience, and to be able to hear other fantastic music in great spaces (Quartet for the End of Time? Yes please). I love that so much thought and care has been put into the completely experience of visiting MONA, and find the place entirely fascinating. Someone commented that if some, or even one, of this confronting collection was in an average gallery among other fairly harmless art, that particular piece would stand out as highly controversial and out of place. But given that most of the collection is there to provoke and confront, one only expects to come face to face with the weird and big questions, which become the new norm. Definitely, there were certain rooms where I was afraid to go through by myself, cautious of what I may see around the corner.....but an entirely fascinating and intriguing place.

Festival wrap!

Last week I returned from ten sun-drenched days Townsville. Why Townsville, I hear you ask. Well, every year, the Australian Festival of Chamber Music is held there; international and Australian artists convene to make music together for a dedicated audience of those who have travelled from all around Australia to enjoy the intense nature of a festival. How I came to be at the festival is a long, but exciting story, so bear with me (or skip ahead a paragraph or two...)

On Good Friday, I received an email from Piers Lane, who is the Artistic Director of AFCM, and a wonderful Australian pianist who is based in London. I first met Piers two years ago when I went as a trio member as part of the AFCM Advanced Winterschool (an education arm of the AFCM offering students masterclasses and the like). I was introduced to him again last year by my former piano teacher from university, when we were both at the Port Fairy Spring Music Festival, where I was a member of a piano+wind quintet (lead by Paul Dean, our esteemd ANAM Artistic Director). At that time, I'm pretty sure I was sitting with my former teacher's two children, watching some DVD and being snuggled up to. Irrelevant, though fun, facts! In time, Piers had talked to Paul about the possibility of one of the pianists from ANAM coming to the festival to page-turn for artists (as sometimes Winterschool students, who have done so in previous years, are inexperienced and make artists a bit nervy, particularly as most of the concerts are live broadcast), and to also play for the Winterschool students who come as instrumental soloists. Paul had mentioned me and that was all good. Earlier this year, the first of ANAM's Australian Voices series at the Melbourne Recital Centre featured the music of Nigel Westlake. This programme was curated by Matthew Hoy, a member of staff at ANAM and also a fine cellist himself; Michael Kieran Harvey also played the piano sonata of Westlake, which was astonishing (for many reasons, including that it is very difficult!). I played in an ensemble piece called 'Rare Sugar', scored for clarinet solo, string quartet, double bass and piano. This was a highly enjoyable experience, and a lot of work went into its preparation as it is quite a tightly written score, and rhythmically very groovy and interlocking. Only a day before the performance did I manage to start letting go and enjoying myself, instead of only concentrating on counting to five, or seven, or feeling the two-and-a-half. I usually do not care much for reviews, though nice ones are always pleasant, and in a few days, there was a review in The Age of the Westlake concert, which was fairly complimentary. I was referred to by name, and as "sprightly" which I think is quite a positive term. Incidentally, the day that this review came out was the day that Piers Lane was in Melbourne, launching the AFCM. The featured composer for AFCM 2012 was actually Nigel Westlake himself, and some of his works had been programmed for the festival. Upon the recommendation of Festival artists Cathy McCorkill (clarinet) and the Goldner String Quartet, for whom the piece was written, 'Rare Sugar' was programmed for the festival. However, it was only when the programme notes were being written was it noted that the piece also required a double bass and piano. That's ok, the double bass part could be covered by another artist at the festival this year, Max McBride. However, the pianists at the festival had heaps of stuff and repertoire to do and Piers couldn't think of who might be able to play this part. Until he saw the review in the paper. And it all clicked. The person to come to the festival to do these things was me.

And so it was, all the processes were set in motion: the business of checking with my teacher (a resounding 'of course you should go'), getting leave from ANAM (as it involved missing the first week of term 3), liaising with the administration team of the Festival and organising flights, a contract, publicity material and much more business-y things. After a jam-packed 'mid-year holiday' from ANAM filled with concerts, baking days, rehearsals, and competition, I was all set to go to Townsville for AFCM 2012!

Let me tell you, waking up at 4am is not pleasant; I don't even remember why I agreed to a 7.30am flight - remind me not to ever again! Bleary-eyed and yawning, I made it to Sydney for the half-hour layover, which was of course, not even that long as the flight was slightly delayed. I really did step off one plane, walked into the terminal building for a grand total of maybe four minutes, only to step onto another plane en route to Townsville. I was thankful to finally arrive in Queensland - too many hours sitting in a plane seat with not much else to go! Plus, it was warm, like 24 degrees warm. Which, when one comes from a fairly bleak and grey Melbourne winter, is pretty much like pure bliss. One of the lovely volunteers from the festival was waiting to pick me up from the airport. Bronwyn was the first of the many amazing volunteers who helped to make the Festival such a smooth-running operation. As I was to find out through the week, there were volunteers to drive us around to the rehearsal and concert venues, to and from our hotel, and even to the shops or The Brewery, should it be not too inconvenient! There were volunteers to staff the lunch room (where I spent many hours...on account of not too many pratice/rehearsal rooms! Oh ok, yes, I admit I love eating..!), there were volunteers at the concerts, ushering, and doing all sorts of wonderfully often neglected and overlooked, yet important jobs of all kinds. We stopped by the shops for me to get some supplies, feed my famished gob, and restock on milk for the rehearsal venue (important ingredient in morning coffee, an essential Festival drink). On our way, we drove along The Strand (which is a beautiful beach front strip), and Bronwyn told me all about the places to go (and to not go!), with some recommendations for dining out. I was greeted at Quest Apartments, my home base for the next ten days, by Deb, Artistic Administrator. It was great to be able to meet her finally, as she was the person I'd mostly been communicating with about the festival and all the arrangements. What a wonder woman! As a fairly young, still-student, from a family who doesn't often go on holidays where we splash out on hotels and the like, this was pretty exciting. I will probably make the worst diva ever, which I consider to be a fairly good quality, as I always think, "Wow, I get THIS?!?!". I shared a lift with one of the music interns, who was helping to bring up a brand new Yamaha digital piano for my room so that I could practise in my hotel room. (All the pianists got this deal, so good!) Deb handed over an Artist's Welcome Pack, full of information, schedules (the only criticisms here was that the font was so tiny, and that everything was labelled with only the date, not the day of the week!), some freebies (yay!), programmes and a bottle of red wine (Yeah, I could be an artist every day, I think!). The sun was shining, I had a whole room to myself, and I was having a day off to myself! Blissful indeed. While we're talking about the hotel, yes, my bed was huge. Like, two single beds put together-huge, where I can't reach the corners when I do the starfish. And to celebrate my bed being nicely made for me every day (because I'm not diligent enough to make it quite so tightly or neatly myself), and its size, I slept on one side, then rolled over, then could keep rolling over; and yes, I also slept in the centre too (crack and all), just for fun. I went for a little explore into town that afternoon - I must have walked to to not so exciting part of the mall as many of the shop fronts were bare. However, I did visit the Perc Tucker Regional Gallery, which was the venue for the Winterschool Public Masterclasses, and also the gallery where Di Bresciani's 'Rhythms of Light' is currently on exhibition. I also visited Mary Who? Bookshop, one of the stores supporting AFCM and its events and artists.

The next day I met with the amazing Michele Walsh, legendary for qualities which include (though not limited to) having time for everybody and everything, tireless and enthusiastic leadership, violin and teacher extraordinaire, everybody's proxy mother and general awesomeness. I have to note here that I had not met her until this day, but had heard so much about her, in part because I have many friends who have learnt with her. Michele was an artist at the Festival in her own right, as well as Director of the Winterschool at AFCM 2012. She carried out both roles (and particularly the latter) with great dedication, patience, generosity and sensibility, and was an utter joy to work with. Her role as Winterschool Director involved organising lessons and masterclasses for the students with the artists, and deciding on the public concert at the end of the week, as well as leading the Winterschool Young String Ensemble Workshop during the first weekend, among other things. It was wonderful to meet her for the first time on Friday, and to feel like we already knew a lot of each other, as we had exchanged emails in the week prior, and knowing so many mutual people. The first half of our coffee date was dedicated to business and organising the Winterschool schedules and stuff, and the second half turned into a very pleasant exchange of all sorts of ideas, recountings and getting-to-know-yous!

My role as Winterschool accompanist was a fairly late addition to the mix of the Festival, all things considered in festival timelines (which I imagine to start a good year or several in advance). Some students come to the Winterschool as soloists, and obviously bring repertoire that sometimes needs a piano. Thus, my role was very immediate and full of surprises! It was lovely to meet a new bunch of students who were keen to learn; some of them were people who I had mutual friends with, so that was very lovely! My job here was to play for their classes with the artists, and also on one occasion, to play for the public masterclass. This was a great way to learn some repertoire very quickly and to also sit in on some fascinating lessons (that I otherwise wouldn't have had the opportunity to do so). The thing that struck me about the artists giving lessons was the different ways they approached things - some were more technique-specific, some talked about specific details of the music, some made broad comments about using eg. the left hand (string player), some talked about the solo line's relation to the piano part. But the thing that was overwhelmingly constant and fascinating was their musicality and love of music, they ability to convey concepts to students and their generosity of time and energy. David Harding, one of the violists at the Festival, remarked on the enthusiasm of the students to learn and that for him, he would rather give many lessons for free to those who are enthusiastic and hungry to learn, than to those who pay and have no interest whatsoever.

One of the other things I did was page-turn for many of the pianists in many of the concerts, providing I was not otherwise busy with rehearsals of my own. Many people don't enjoy this job at all, and I can understand why - so much pressure to make sure it's right, and if you screw up the pianist might screw up! There are many intricacies (or not!) of page-turning. Helpful hints include making sure you don't have an overwhelming scent (or odour..!), not wearing a jacket or item of clothing that may get in the way, making sure not to eat garlic or onion prior to page-turning gig, making sure you don't get in the way if the pianist has low notes, using the left hand (usually) so that your arm doesn't get in the way of the pianist reading the notes, whether you wait for the nod or anticipate, and standing up early enough to not make the pianist feel stressed. And what not. Easy....! This proves to be an interesting and invaluable job - I sat on stage almost every night with a most interesting seat. One gets to see the pianists' hands close up, gets to read the music (especially cool for listening to works that are new to me!) and to feel the energy between the players on stage. I've recently been developing a theory that one gets to know others very well when we play music with them, because it's such a personal thing to do and it - rehearsing and playing - reveals a lot about one's personality and working style, very quickly. One gets some sort of sense of the pianist's style when sitting at such close proximity! And each of the pianists I turned for was different and equally fascinating. They each had their different preferences and at some times, required me to do slightly different things (turn late, turn early, don't turn back, turn back, wait....). The funny thing is that the audience noticed, "Oh, you are doing a great job with the page-turning, I don't know how you get it right all the time!" and other things like that. It was fantastic to meet the pianists of AFCM 2012 and to be able to observe them so closely. Even more wonderful was having Kathy Stott come to teach us at ANAM in Melbourne after the Festival!

Of course, I went to as many concerts as I physically and mentally could - just for the record, there were almost 25 concerts in nine days. There were so many excellent performances, how can one list them all? But try as I may.....
The Storioni Trio (with Natsuko Yoshimoto replacing their regular violinist, who was injured) from Holland were very impressive in all of their performances. Their Ravel and Archduke trios were magnificent, and full of colour.
Piers Lane's performance of Malcolm Williamson's second piano concerto was a riot, as this is a piece I don't know, and it is utterly nuts! It's jazzy, it's fun, it's offbeat and just crazy.
The Debussy concert: an account of Debussy's messy and crazy life, interspersed with some of his chamber works. Debussy's music constantly makes me fall in love with music again and again!
Goldner Quartet's Beethoven Op. 18 No. 3 They're just amazing. The quartet, that is (more about them later..)
A fabulous tango concert, largely led by Atle Sponberg, the coolest Norwegian around - this guy went roller-skiing (?!?! But we found out they don't have brakes!) and plays the violin like a boss, and he does tangos amazingly!
Caroline Almonte playing the Goldberg Variations - just, wow!
The best Brandenburg #3 I have ever witnessed - the most energetic, fun and spirited strings I have seen.
The Families' Concert with Saint-Saens' Carnival of the Animals (made my glockenspiel debut..!), best rendition of 'Pianists' (by best I mean 'hilarious'), amazing narration (text by Ogden Nash) and just all-round fun
and a most memorable Festival Farewell concert, the funnest concert of the entire festival.

....and that's just some of the highlights! (Don't worry, emphasis on 'some'.)


But the real highlight of the week was surely playing in one of the evening concerts with such fine musicians as the Goldner Quartet, Cathy and Max. Here I entered into the world of being a Festival Artist. Let me tell you, festivals run at breakneck speed. You often get chucked together with other people in a quick hurry and you don't get a lot of rehearsal time! We had three scheduled rehearsals, a dress rehearsal and then the performance; however, due to schedules being tight and several changes during the week, I think we had a total of maybe two or so hours to put this piece together. Thank goodness all (but one) of us had played this work before! It's a tricky work, with changing time signatures, offbeats and things that lock together, but maybe not how you expect it to. It's got a cool groove, so once you get into it, it's great, but getting into it in the first place is hard. Had I not been at ANAM, firstly, I would not have had this amazing opportunity to even be at the Festival. Secondly, I would not be so well prepared, or happy with the idea of short turnaround times, or be used to working at such a fast pace. Of course, the other members of the ensemble were very kind and helpful (I'm just little me!!). But I'm glad that I was paranoid enough to prepare well! Working with these musicians was an utter joy and exciting ride. The performance itself went quite well, with a few slips on the way (as to be expected in live performance, and with new people!), and I had lots of fun. Apparently I grooved big time, as many people pointed out later! What was crazy about this experience was that I was playing alongside these musicians who are people I respect greatly, and are the sorts of people I myself would go to, to seek musicial training! They have taught and tutored my friends and colleagues - it's a crazy thought to conceive that I was an equal member of the ensemble as them. Part of me was proud to have been performing and to be able to prove that I am a capable pianist, and the other part of me was completely humbled to be part of it. I don't think I even have the words to adequately experess how amazing this experience was.


This was truly one of the most exciting musicial experiences in my life so far. I learnt so much from being there, doing stuff and being around so many amazing artists. There are many stories from this trip which I have not even recounted - many are hilarious and fun (like watching the Olympics coverage in the green room prior to going on stage, true story!). I met so many amazing people - both professional artists and fellow students (my future colleagues!) and had a lot of fun. Should anything further come from this, fantastic; if not, I have had a wonderful experience. Words fail to really capture it all!

Competitions and stuff

(Sorry, this post was supposed to be posted on Wednesday last week, but I ran out of internet data on my computer then....so here it is anyway)

As the Sydney International Piano Competition continues on the radio, I have to admit to not having listened to any of it so far. Maybe I will tune in for some of the last bits, but honestly, I have to admit to not actually desiring greatly to listen to it at all. Mostly because I cannot stand that much piano (yes, I know, I am a pianist. And apparently a very atypical pianist, which I think is a compliment). And also because I don't really believe in competitions in general. This blog entry is interesting and highlights many aspects I agree with, about competitions being flawed and what not. What do you think?

Having said that about competitions, I find myself in one this weekend, the Mietta Song Competition. To tell you the truth, I'm rather bemused by it given my stance on competitions in general. In general, I remain a fairly uncompetitive person in the field of music - this is what makes somewhere like ANAM so attractive to me, and somewhere I love being. But I realise that competitions are good for some things, like having a (large) goal to work towards. They perhaps used to launch a career, but nowadays, they don't guarantee that much except for some exposure, some opportunities (usually built in with the prize) and winning some money is always a nice perk. But one of my teachers once said that I shouldn't enter a competition with the goal of winning, but because it's a good reason to have repertoire and date goals. Apart from the competitions at ANAM (which are compulsory) and uni (free to enter, why not?), I don't think I have been seriously in a competition since the age of about fifteen. Apart from having to pad out my bio when required, I am perfectly happy with not listing all the prizes I have won from this-and-that competition.

So, the Mietta Song Competition. The audition for this was actually on the same day that I had to perform Brahms g minor Quintet. So yeah, a pretty stressful day. But we performed and I was happy with it, so no matter as to the result, I was pleased. Getting through to the semi-finals was just a happy outcome. A few months later, I am staring down the barrel of performing in Iwaki Auditorium in a public concert (not just in orchestra or playing for MSO auditions). The rigorous thing about this competition is that there are eight semi-finalists, who will perform a twenty-minute recital on Saturday. Four of these singer-pianist duos will proceed to the finals, which is the next afternoon, and present a thirty-minute recital, of which the repertoire is completely different. I think it's the turn-around time that is the hard part. It's that you have to effectively prepare a 50-minute programme that may not all be heard! Good thing we did a concert on Sunday just gone, to prepare for it, and also if we don't get through, we will have performed it anyway! I'm trying not to think about the competition aspect too much, mostly because it's quite weird for me to even think that I'm in one, and also because it should just be about making music. It's just another concert - I do heaps of these all the time! - of which there might be fun perks to it.

Last weekend, in addition to the song recital at Richmond Uniting Church, I also played second piano in a performance of Brahms' German Requiem. Wikipedia tells me that an average performance lasts for about 60-80mins or so, and that it is Brahms' longest work. I suppose in theory, I though to myself, "Oh yes, that's do-able. Hard, but I'm up for the challenge." so I accepted the gig. The rehearsals (for me) were squished into three days - the choir had been preparing for a little while. What I found craziest about the entire experience was actually preparing it, and the energy requirements for this! In learning it since a month and a bit ago, I found myself wondering how I was ever going to learn such a large work. The score was really fat, it seemed like there were always still so many pages to go. I felt like it might have been a piece that while listening, you never wanted it to end, but while playing, you just wanted the number of pages left to quickly dwindle down! In trying to replicate what it might be like to play it all, I did several runs of the piece, but of course, this took about an hour! Just an hour to play it from top to bottom, crazy! And I never thought that I might recall large sections of it - there are many bits to it, after all (though some bits are repeated). But I got to my first rehearsal, a fairly easy read-through and found that I could actually do most of it, including the difficult passages (double octaves, difficult for me to sustain over six pages on account of having small hands!). The two-piano version was actually sanctioned by Brahms, and does a pretty good job of capturing the orchestral score; there are so many great lines to be had, and intricate textures in the orchestra that one piano alone cannot hope to even replicate. In performance, of course, many things are heightened, I think largely due to adrenalin. I knew that I would have to rely on keeping calm, but also the adrenalin kick (long one!) to sustain me through this work. Thankfully it did, but the concentration required for such a thing is, and was, quite taxing! Honestly, I was surprised I didn't have a headache at the end of it (from concentrating and focussing that long, as well as from the general choir and audience illness *cough cough splutter sneeze* between movements!) but I did enjoy a well-deserved chocolate croissant to celebrate the end of the German Requiem on Bastille Day. Oh, the irony.

Today a group of girls from my old school in Perth came to visit ANAM. They are on tour in Melbourne, performing a few concerts around Melbourne and what not, and going to visit placesand stuff, y'know, the stuff you do on school tour. I was asked to talk a bit about how I came to be at ANAM and in telling my very uncanny story, and the equally uncanny story of how I am going to be at AFCM Townsville next week, I realised that my life, particularly in recent times, and some of the best bits, is (are) a set of amazing "coincidences" that I could not have planned, or even dreamed of. It is a great lesson in trust, determination, integrity and faith!

So, holidays, I hear you ask? Well, most days I can't practice past about 5pm. I think that's quite holiday-like. But I am going a slight bit nutty from spending so much time alone. The other morning, I went to pick some lemons from the tree in my backyard: I was in my pink flannal pyjamas, climbing up and reaching up as high as possible, and trying to avoid over-balancing and falling in the pool. I hope there were no neighbours looking! I look forward to seeing friends soon (in a few weeks, though not sure how long I'll last!) and life returning to it's "noraml" craziness. I'm not sure which I prefer....! If we get through the finals on Sunday, I'm taking Monday morning off. If we don't get through, I'm taking Sunday morning off. Either way, relaxation has been built into my plans! There is still much to prepare for, especially for Townsville. The artistic administration team has been incredible in getting information to me - I just received a rehearsal schedule today which looks like a schematic for a very complex problem, which it probably is. I am struggling to make sense of it all, especially the part where it says I am supposed to be in two places simultaneously - not sure how I'll manage that one! Upon returning to ANAM after Townsville, there is much to do - Les Six week, Concerto Comp Round 2 (how did I manage to get myself into this in the first place?!?!), Open Day, a few concerts with an old friend, and my own recital in September. Much to look forward to and do!

The things that take up space in my head

I've spent much of this week by myself, on account of the holidays, and time to get stuck back into practice. This, of course, is a fairly solitary pursuit, and often results in many hours spent with myself and my own thoughts, only to cease practice and return home, where I live by myself. This has been aided by being ill all week and the desire to stay in and rest, though of course, I have not been going to bed abnormally early as my mind is still active! I often think other things and sometimes phrase it in my mind as a status update. But of course, too many status updates in one day with all these thoughts might lead others to believe that I do nothing other than conjure up status updates.

So, a blog post dedicated to things I've been thinking about, or amused by, this week. Some thoughts have already appeared as status updates, and I shall not repeat some of them, of which the choice is purely arbitrary.

Gladys:

"is learning from Poulenc's trio that when in doubt, return to the happy theme!"
"cannot help herself from giggling while practising the Poulenc trio."
"misses her friends dearly."
"is rediscovering Beethoven."
"is practising her viola face while doing her technical routine."
"is amused that she's smashing out Mozart cadenzi while Clemens Leske smashes out Brahms 2."
"is hugely satisfied after her day all to herself to practice."
"must be the most boring, nerdiest, but satisfied, person after a whole day of practice."
"Brahms Requiem: while listening, I never want this to end. While playing, I count down the pages till the end!"
"is making her glockenspiel debut in Townsville at AFCM!"
"thinks she's in love.....with the piano!"

Each day this week has re-affirmed that I love making music, listening to music and playing the piano. And without trying to make it all that my life is, for it cannot be, and should never be, it inevitably has shaped who I am to a large extent.

And I miss my friends big time. Especially those that have gone home to different parts of Australia. Some part of me wishes I could have gone home too, but remember that it was so expensive and that I have many things coming up. The weight of the world (not really, but felt like it) was lifted off upon receiving a reply from a friend to whom I had written about not being to do something that I had previously agreed to do. It often takes a moment of crisis and realisation for me to realise my over-enthusiasm and optimistic outlook of my abilities, capabilities and efforts. For me, it often takes my friends to confirm these things.

Almost mid-winter already?

So yeah, umm, I sometimes blog. This year, not very regularly, or with great frequency. But I haven't forgotten what it's like to put thoughts into words, even if fairly artificial on a screen. But the Thinker in me says that this is helpful for sifting through what's going on in my head, for processing and for evaluating (more on the Thinker stuff later). So this post is likely to be very long, to capture so many things in the last number of months.

So many changes have happened from last year to this year. In my last post, I alluded to changes, some which are not perceptible from day to day, but across time, become ever so apparent. I think given that it is now July, I am at a stage where I am able to comment on how things are morphed across time, after having had some time to be introduced, settle and find a comfy spot for.

I continue to be mostly happy about my living situation. Bar a couple of nights this year (cf. many nights in the last seven years, including several times a week frequently!) where there have been parties across the road or people in the street making a bit of a racket, it has been blissfully quiet. Okay, so when it's windy the shade sails rattle around, but I've gotten used to it mostly to the point where it doesn't bother me much any more. There have been a few nights where sleep was greatly desired, but they were mostly not a result of distractions, rather, many thoughts on my mind. It is a safe neighbourhood, and a pleasant place to live. I have really enjoyed living by myself - such freedom of independance, and being so decided on so many things purely of my own accord without having to factor in so many unknowns. I occasionally miss having people around me - when I start having all night text conversations, that's when you might know that I'm craving some human interaction! Or when I realise that speaking for the first time three hours after I wake up is the first time I've spoken all day! I have few regrets about moving here. I have been back in the inner north area a few times this year, and I do miss it terribly, for it is a place of great familiarity, the only place I knew for many years well! But it's sort of nostalgic to go back there, with some sort of sadness, but also with confirmation that I love the situation I'm in now, where it's not super-grungy (because I'll be the first to admit, I've never been a grungy person really!). A few weeks ago, I went to visit, and on the tram back to ANAM, I breathed a sigh of relief and memory when the tram crossed the bridge onto the southern side.....!!! I have had a few people (emphasis on few!) over. The only thing about living by yourself is that catering for more than one person becomes something of slightly greatly difficulty! It's perfectly fine to have completely unmatching things, and only a few of certain things, because it is unlikely that the need for more exists! However, larger groups of people call for more cohesion and multiple things! I only have two proper chairs, a lot of floor space (which friends kindly and generally take to with relaxed acceptance), and a little table. A quartet (actually!) of friends dropped around unexpectedly last week for a cup of tea quite late in the night, and a relaxed little while ensued with little fuss and great merriment. I also celebrated my birthday with a number of friends dropping around during the day (which was gloriously sunny!) for a BBQ lunch/cake and cup of tea into the early evening. Such a buzz of activity and happiness, which my humble and very blue abode seemed to manage quite well, with great help from many friends in the catering and cleaning up departments.

I have also had time and impetus to do more reading this year than I have had in the last seven years (bar the summer holidays)! This is something I have really enjoyed, as when I was much younger, I used to chew through books quickly, and our membership at three public libraries enjoyed a great work out! One of things about moving out of college was not having virtually unlimited internet and lots of things to watch at my disposal. I purposely opted for only a small amount of internet per month, so that I wouldn't become completely dependant on this technology - though, having a smartphone now makes me wonder what I didn't do with it before?!

ANAM continues well. It is scary to think that I am halfway through my proposed ANAM career. I feel like I've been there for a long time, like I've really found the place where I feel comfortable, but also that I have only just started and that there is so much still to be done! This year on paper looks far less hectic than last year - I guess having more pianists really helps, and so too does having a vision to have more time for students to practice and actually learn their instrument. However, of course, as with everybody that knows me, I have managed to remain frightfully busy, with big projects that have challenged and extended me. The programme I applied to for Banff received a healthy rejection, and for a moment I was disappointed, though I thought to myself, "Oh well, maybe I'll be able to have a holiday." Everybody that knows me knew that this was a laughing matter. I've also been asked to be in projects with friends that I could not turn down, for fear of not having enough fun or enough to do. How foolish and enthusiastic of me! Oh well, I'm still alive thus far! A few big external projects have also cropped up, including:
*A performance of Brahms' German Requiem, playing the two-piano reduction with the massed choir at the Intervaristy Choral Festival
*The semi-finals of the Mietta Singing Competition (a fairly large competition where both the singers and pianists compete for prizes. Not that I really care that much about competitions, but is a good chance to work on some great repertoire and present a recital!)
*and being invited by Piers Lane (the Artistic Director and amazing pianist) to go to the Australian Festival of Chamber Music at Townsville, to play in one of the concerts (with Goldner Quartet, Cathy McCorkhill and Max McBride), help play for Winterschool students, page-turn for the pianists, possibly receive some lessons and generally hang out as an artist.......
[this last one came about in the strangest of coincidences, which was really quite amazing. Ask me if you want the full story, it's quite cool..]

So, it's all a bit exciting and part of me hears my friends and teachers saying, "You deserve it!" which I somehow don't believe, but am still equally excited and surprised to be doing it all. I also have somehow found myself (by no serious will of my own, trust me!) in the second round of the ANAM Concerto Competition. Honestly, as I was saying to A (who kindly played the orchestra for me), "Oh, I just want to go in there and play some nice music, and the biggest tragedy is that only Bill, Tim and you will get to hear my cadenza!" (I had re-written a cadenza, adapted from one I wrote five years ago, which was based on Geza Anda's, and subsequently morphed into one with some influences from Beethoven, Brahms, and others. Seriously, I was so proud of it, and happiest mostly about this little bit of music that I helped to create.) And now, I'm in the second round where I actually have to learn the rest of my concerto. Oops! A few other things await me upon my return from Townsville, including the Poulenc Trio in a week celebrating Les Six, Open Day (one of the activities I'm involved in is a children's show), a performance at the Athenaem Club (I agreed mostly because I'm curious what it's like, rather than being smart and saying no because I don't really have the time haha), a few concerts with a friend back in Australia for a month, and my recital! So yes, life at ANAM continues at a cracking pace. I'm not sure how I haven't fallen over yet. Some days are inevitably not so good, nor productive, but in the end, it's something I love doing, and I mostly enjoy the madness that it is!

One interesting experience I had in May was to accompany three hopefuls for the MSO Principal Bassoon audition. Obviously such an audition is something I doubt I will have to undertake in my career. Colleagues and friends talk about auditions so much; I have done a few myself, but not of this sort. The sort where it's a big job, likely to attract the best from around the country (and further??), undertaken under strict conditions (such secrecy with not seeing who else is auditioning, the screens all the way through to the end, the option to have the panel know who you are, or not), and the drawn-out nature of the whole day. While the actual playing for the day is not heaps (as we have all done three hour rehearsals), I suspect it is mostly the psychological test that is the real killer. It is the anticipation of what might be asked, the waiting around, the uncertainly of so many things. What a day it was! Of the three people I played for, one of them was the last person in the final round (of which they did not appoint the job anyway....), and I saw this entire process through the course of the day. How fascinating! It was exhausting, not because of the amount of music I played (I think I played a grand total of about 300 bars!) but seriously, the waiting and the nerves and pressure of having one chance to impress enough people on the panel (behind the screen) to put one through to the next round. It's a tough gig, is all I have to say...!

Now, halfway through the year, I think is the point where the ANAM cohort has settled into itself better. At the beginning, people are keen to impress, perhaps already know others, or know of them, have some notions (or not!) and generally undergo some sort of dramatic changes in technique and approach. But now, everybody has settled into the routine, how it all works and what they need to do to make it happen. I've always known this since I did it, but playing in a chamber group is such an intense environment where you get to know others - working style, and personally - very quickly. I have found this to be true again of this year! At the beginning of the year, there was a distinct division (not in a bad way, but a noticeable "who's who") between first years and the returning students. Now, there is less so, and more of a blur. I have always found that the people I am closest to at a particular point in time are the people I see every day; I still have great friends outside my everyday happenings, but I know I get caught up in my current situation quite easily. These friends from this year I have found to be refreshing, encouraging and full of fun! How fortunate I am to be surrounded by these wonderful people! Honestly, I am so thankful for these friendships. There are a few where I think to myself, "How did I not meet this person until only recently??" and others which I never thought I might be at this level of depth with. But things happen for a reason, and here we are!

One of the exciting, yet flawed, projects I did this year, was to play in a piano trio that went up to Brisbane for the Crossbows Festival at the Queensland Conservatorium. The rehearsal and preparation process was intense, very focussed, at times difficult and frustrating, but also for me, a very steep learning curve in being able to lead, follow, be diplomatic, kind and hard-working! All in all, an enjoyable process. Unfortunately, the concert experience was not that enjoyable (apart from playing quite well, and being able to do it with two friends and go to Brisbane for the first time) due to a number of organisational mishaps. Apart from these things, the trip itself was enjoyable and a few days that broke up the usual routine of daily life, but doing something similar haha! Of the two friends I played with, one was somebody whom I have worked with before, and we both agree that we work well together. The other was somebody I had not worked with before, but found to be a steep learning curve and exciting discovery to be able to do so! I think this is one of the exciting challenges about somewhere like ANAM - you can request to play with certain people but sometimes the ad hoc ensembles teach you more about yourself and others. Because fo the intense nature of it all, I commented, "If we had not worked together, we would not have this sort of strong friendship even after six months of knowing each other." How music so easily exposes our personalities, strengths, flaws and character! I look forward to so many more projects that this year still has - I have to keep reminding myself that this time is really very short in the whole scheme of things, and that there is no better time to enjoy it!

The other large change of church-hunting has also progressed! After a couple of months of visiting all sorts of places, ranging from the traditional to the fairly progressive, I decided to stick at City on a Hill. I know I was looking for something a bit closer to my side of town - I did actually find a great church in Albert Park that was very welcoming and where I could have served happily, though when I started thinking about it, I wasn't sure I would be staying here (in this local area) for a long time, and for as long as I am in Melbourne, I know that the city itself is somewhere I consider central, and where I want to be not too far from. It's taking a little while to adjust to all the differences, but it helps that I am now in a Connect group - also helpful for getting to know people as it is a large church. They have been welcoming and thought-provoking. The teaching is good, I knew a few people there, and met some more that I didn't even remember went there! It's pretty vibrant, so I'll be there for a little while, I think, despite the football rivalry!

The only regrets I have from this year so far (though I generally like to have a 'no regrets' policy) is not having enough time for everything and everybody that I wish. I often think about old and good friends, whose friendship I do not value any less, but see less frequently. Our lives continue at their spiralling rate and I've found so far the only way to survive is to hang on! So, hanging on as I may, I find myself busy, absorbed in so many things and becoming nostalgic (maybe as best represented by blogging!).

So, these holidays have so far seen me have two days off - two glorious days of getting stuff tidied up, eating with friends, catching up with friends (not as much as hoped, but then again, there are so many people I would like to catch up with!), much laughing, MUCH eating, and some chamber music reading (which does NOT count as practice!), adventuring and baking adventures! A most delightful weekend. But now back into the work, as there is much to prepare for! I'm looking forward to the rest of the year.....

A whirlwind summary

First term at ANAM has nearly come to an end! How did it all go so quickly?

The summer was blissfully relaxing; I managed to get a real break. My family went for a holiday down south in Western Australia, driving almost 1500km in about five days. (When I reported my travels to Victorian friends, most of them drew a blank at "down south" because obviously "down south" from Melbourne is the ocean....) There were lots of trees, wineries, local tourist attractions, beaches, more trees, good walks and a variety of interesting backpackers (and other budget travellers). I managed to sleep well - a particularly fine achievement as my brother tends to be a noisy sleeper (read: snores, breathes deeply, which I cannot stand!) and I always uphold when we go on holidays that I will, for the first night, share a room with him as we did when we were much younger at home, and if I can't sleep, I will trade with dad and share with mum. However, this was not at all necessary; we must have done so much that I was so tired and slept so well! I also experienced pretty severe sunburn, which is an experience I never want to have again. Oh, the pain and the peeling.....how pink I was!

I returned to Melbourne at the end of January, again before Chinese New Year. Good thing I have cousins over here, and that my aunt and uncle decided to come also to spend a few weeks with their children and attend to business. I was able to stay with them for a week or so before I moved into my new house (!!!). Upon reflection, and in telling people about my move to the other side of the river, out of college, into a place by myself, I find myself extremely happy. I feel much more relaxed, at liberty to set my times as I need, experiement with cooking, not needing to deal with red-tape administration, play political games, nor be bothered by stupid and rude behaviours that are not acceptable in normal society. It feels real, what it's really like to be living a real life that is not surrrounded by the fun, though rather artificial, environment that the previous seven years have been. Over the last few years, I've tried to have a 'no regrets' attitude to things, and this is one of them. Even though I feel so much happier about my living situation (and also that it's a leisurely 15min walk to ANAM every day!), I don't regret living at college for so long, as it suited my needs at that time. But this is the next phase of life, something that one needs to do before they reach 25, which I am to hit in just under three weeks!

The first term of ANAM always seems like a bit of a blur. Last year it went so quickly as I adjusted to how it all worked, a very new and different way of approaching my music. This year, after a bit of a summer break lull, it has been a refresher of how ANAM works, what the rest of the year is shaping up to be and how my learning goals are geared towards deepening my musical education. I've had a few projects that have already extended me beyond my perceived capabilities and set a tone of great expectation for the rest of the year. This year I feel like I am doing lots of things that I've never ventured near before: Brahms and Scriabin and a few other things thrown in for good measure. It shall be a good challenge and steep learning curve! There is also a distinctly different vibe among the students from last year to this year; I think I cannot say it is better or worse, but just different. Different people bring different vibes and the combination of so many new students with different life experiences and expectations obviously contribute to the flavour of it all, so why argue with it? I'm just letting it wash over me, deciding what I can tolerate, emjoy and avoid.

One other major factor that has changed this year is that I'm currently in the process of searching for a new church to be a part of. Since moving to Melbourne, I have been a part of the same church congregation (almost seven years) which has seen much change, due to the highly transitional nature of the congregation and its demographic. Due to a number of factors, not least moving house to another part of town, I decided that it was time to go elsewhere. Honestly, in many ways it might have just been easier to stay, despite the commute. I was (still am, possibly?) extremely sad to leave - it has been such a defining part of my life, particularly of my life in this city. I grew so much, I made many friends who are some of the most mature, generous, influential and loving people I have met; I have so much to be thankful for. It might have been easier if I was needing to leave because of a significant relocation (like to another city or country!) but it is weird to still be in the same city and know that I am elsewhere too. But change, despite how much we dislike it or are uncomfortable with many aspects of it, is often good for us, and a good reminder that we are fleeting in the whole scheme of things of life anyway. So continues life, for better or worse, and the earth keeps on turnin'...

One thing I've been slowly figuring out over the last few years is my identity, and how we are inherently relational beings. Given the number of changes that have happened, particularly in the last few years (changing study/work, living, involvement in various things), I've discovered and constantly rediscover the relationships in my life that form, establish, fall away, re-establish, and continue to simmer and grow over time. While I often don't see change from day to day, little moment peaks and coincidences happen every so often that remind me that I am ultimately not in control of very much, and that we just have to ride the life journey for all its enjoyments, grief, and surprises.

This blog hasn't disappeared!

I have just gotten myself one of those USB modems so that I can finally have the internet on my laptop. I've just been lazy after moving house, and part of me really enjoyed not having the internet at home (apart from a bit on my phone). I read some, cooked well, relaxed, didn't spend entire evenings staring at a screen (as I have inadvertantly done tonight after setting it up), and my house has been quite clean.
But it was getting a bit inconvenient. So I signed up for the most basic amount. Just to keep myself in check, just to get by with the simple stuff, coz really, right now, it's about decluttering parts of my life. Making it streamlined, making it work, and getting on with the things that really matter to me.
So maybe the next few blog posts might unfortunately cover much material and time. Sorry about that.
The brief story is that I am back at ANAM this year; stuff has started very quickly and of course, there is not much time to take a breath now that the ball has started rolling (and is gathering great pace)! A few concerts have already been played, new material is being learnt and new, bigger goals are being set.
Bring it on.