Ni hao

I have recently returned from a ten-day trip where I was the piano tutor at tutti world youth music festival, a musical and cultural experience for high school ensembles in Beijing.
I admit prior to the adventure I was extremely apprehensive and nervous about the entire thing: travelling overseas (not really by myself, but also kind of..), being a very inexperienced teacher, feeling like I was somewhere between student and professional (so what really am I??), not really knowing who my students were going to be (and what level they were), and having heard all sorts of stories about the crazy things that only China does so well. Prior to this trip, I had no desire to travel to China, despite many friends telling me that it was a crazy, fascinating and incredible place to visit.
But now having returned, WOW. I get a small sense of what my friends were talking about. What an adventure! So much has gone through my mind about the entire trip, which blogging might be useful to process, so here goes. This warning here tells you that this post is EPIC long. Seriuosly long. I don't really expect you all to read it, but you have been warned if you decide to embark on it all!

These stories will hopefully be divided into various parts, which may not be entirely chronological.
But when friends have asked me, "How was China?" I have chewed off their ears!
In brief, China was an amazing trip: musically, interpersonally, pedagogically and culturally. And more!

Musical
Pretty much all the other tutors that made up the faculty are musicians who I consider to be my teachers. And I know that learning (should) never stop, at whatever age or stage of life one is at, but you must understand that I felt pretty daunted by the idea that I might be their equals, at least in the eyes of the students. But this is the wonderful thing about tutti - it is a festival where competitiveness is seriously downplayed, and our great aim was that everybody - students, teachers and tutors - would just have an excellent week of learning. And learning not just about music, but also about other people, cultures and life in general! There were a couple of tutor lunchtime concerts through the week, so I had the chance to play some music with these wonderful people. I played the first movement of Schumann's excellent piano quintet with the wonderful Michele Walsh, Yum Williams, Jeremy Williams and Louise King. What wonderful musicians! We had lots of fun; there were spills and moments of some uncertainty, but I think the spontaneity of the music making is what I've come to know about festivals: you don't often get lots of rehearsal time so you have to be as prepared as you can be, and trust your, and the others' musicality, experience and good nature enough to let go and have fun! The tutors also played at the Welcome Banquet, in a mish-mash of pieces designed to show us all off. The last movement of Weber's Grand Duo for Clarinet and Piano definitely tested the tired and out-of-tune upright piano! All the performances that the tutors did were wonderful - they were, risky, on edge and lots of fun. There was a rendition of Haydn's trumpet concerto with mixed ensemble like you've never heard it before - including one-per-part strings, a clarinet playing the oboe, a wind section that included a recorder and saxophone, a flugelhorn, and some assorted brass. There was Telemann that had a guitar. There was Butterfly Lovers concerto with the odd assortment of us all - and it was lots of fun! It was also really beautiful to watch the conductors in action and also to talk with the other tutors about teaching methods and about the progress of their students.

Interpersonal
This is such a terrible heading, apologies...but the only term I could come up with. I had a wonderful time meeting all sorts of people. As alluded to above, it was really wonderful to meet and work with the other tutors. The teachers from the schools were also really wonderful - they have such a hard job taking their school groups on tour as they have a musical responsibility as well as a pastoral duty outside of class times! I met teachers from Queensland, Western Australia and South Africa, most of whom were just so wonderful and eager to learn themselves. One in particular that I met was actually a girl who went to the same high school as me! We had no years of cross-over but discovered that we had quite a few mutual friends! The greatest joy, however, I think, was definitely meeting so many students.They were so enthusiastic and full of excitement and were so excited to be in Beijing. The students in my class were just beautiful too. It was really wonderful to meet them all and get to know them - musically and personally. I had some excellent chats about the music that they liked to play and listen to, learnt about their schools, their cultures and some of their perceptions about music and life, including some about what they wanted to do when they got older (so full of enthusiasm and promise!). One moment in my class also happened to end up talking about toilet paper and the different types of toilet paper in different countries!

Pedagogical
The teaching experience was extremely fascinating. I was very nervous about the experience as we were unsure about what level all the students would be - we would only know when we got there. This, as you can imagine if you know me, did cause a bit of panic in me - I like to know what I'm getting myself into. This proved to be a valuable exercise to me also in letting go and going with the flow! I had five 'formal' students in my class, plus a few additions across the week, ranging from extremely competent and technically secure to those who struggled a bit with rhythm and reading forwards, and some in-between. What a mixed bag! One of the biggest challenges was finding things that might be applicable to all levels, but also in some ways it is also not hard to find things about playing (musical, physical, conceptual etc) that are applicable to all levels of students. We learnt some figure-8 warm-ups that made us look like swimmers or seriously uncoordinated humans with swinging arms. We did some breathing exercises (strangely enough applicable to playing music!). And we did some improvisation, David Dolan style! For almost all the students, this sort of improvisation was extremely new, daunting and had to be prefaced with "the world will keep on turning when you finish"! A few fabulous comments from this exercise were that it was actually quite fun, and liberating! Some students were even game enough to do it several times as they gained confidence, or wanted to experiment some more.

One of the greatest challenges for me was teaching my two Chinese students. Firstly, they were both technically extremely gifted, both young (12 and 14), and had little English! Not that this festival was about competition at all, but it was interesting to watch the two of them and to see their strenghts and weaknesses, especially in comparison to each other. I had been told by other teachers that in their previous experience with Chinese students that more often than not they were extremely competent especially technically but sometimes lacked the emotional impulse of making music (not to say that they didn't love what they did, but that their playing was mostly driven by technical mastery).  I would say that this was certainly true of my two students, and I took a fairly different approach to teaching them. They each played a solo segment in the student concert evenings, and it was interesting to see how each played and it was fairly evident what was valued in their music-making. It was also interesting to watch the reaction of the audience to their respective performances, which was very different. In the Grand Concert, we allocated them a piano duet, Ravel's Mother Goose Suite. This was, I think, a huge challenge to them as they had never played with other people before, so there are things to negotiate, like physical space, how to start together, what happens if you make a mistake and so forth. Their first read-through was very good - they read and picked up on things very quickly but it was interesting to see their personalities on show. He charged through, easily understanding complexities while where she was unable to execute, she sung along. They worked hard to put it together, finding time where they could to practise together.

Add to that the complication of me not being able to speak Chiense, and their mostly lack of English! We had one of the student volunteers from Dulwich College (where the festival classes were being hosted) translating for us, but obviously the need for a translator slows the process down, and also many things are lost in translation, including nuances and the beauties of language, which I love! For example, I suggested, "You could take more time here" which the translator then asked, "So do I say 'you should go slower here'?". "No no no!!!" was my very hearty response! So given that the Ravel is so pictorial and descriptive, I got really good at singing (well, good might be a bit enthusiastic. I'm not using it qualitatively here..) and acting and dancing around the room! I also discovered that the way that Chinese students are taught piano is very diligent and somewhat prescribed. I quickly learnt that what I sang or said was taken on with great enthusiasm, so either had to give many options on how to do something, or none; never just one, because otherwise that would be the way it was done. In asking them how they wanted to do something, I suggested, "Like this? Or like this? How do you want to do it?" I was met with a stunned revalation of, "You mean I have to choose for myself?!" I was shocked but also pleased! The other revalation of Chinese teaching was when I asked if there was anything else they wanted to play, and one of them said, "Yes, but I have to read from the book". Nothing wrong with that in my opinion!

What a pleasure it was then to hear at the end of the week that apparently they had really enjoyed my teaching, and that while their teachers usually focussed on the technical aspects of playing, I had focussed on the emotional parts of the music (what I'd like to think of as just 'the music'!) and hopefully introduced them to another way of approaching their music. Also wonderful was when students made small changes to help them in big ways. Like thinking about different fingerings, or using breathing in our music (even though we don't need to breathe to operate our instrument per se), or thinking about the pedal and how it's more than just 'on' or 'off'. The other beautiful experience for this young teacher was to have a few students return to my masterclass out of their own will - particularly those who had come with their school ensembles as another instrumentalist, or vocalist. Though they didn't have much prepared to play, we discussed music and life anyway, and they stayed anyway. In my limited teaching experience, I don't demand that students stay but invite them to if they think they can learn something from it or contribute to it. One particular student came on the last day and stayed for three hours worth, even though he didn't play much, but was able to give some feedback for other students and hopefully found some insights and thoughts to take with him in his own music-making. Another came back on successive days to just listen and learn and to discuss music and piano. I hope that I was able to inspire them all at least a bit, to consider great possibilities, to think about other ways to approach and make music and to enjoy and listen to as much as possible!

Cultural
Wow. Where does one even begin?! I think this festival is truly unique - the musical aspects are given equal importance to the cultural tour that everybody came on. And it's all about learning and sharing. This environment was incredible and beautiful - and not that my normal environment is particularly competitive or pushy (only self-driven, admittedly pretty hard) - but this had almost no trace of it and was  just a time to meet different people and experience their culture.

Beijing itself is an incredible and baffling city. Since the Olympics, so much has been built and modernised (and also in the last 20-30 years!). But at the heart of this bustling modern city is an old civilisation steeped in tradition and history. The reign of the emperor and the imperial system still looms in the Forbidden City and the Summer Palace, while the rise of Communism and the various political tales have played out in Tiananmen Square. Old sits next to new in the hutongs and you forget that you are in a modern city while lost in gardens and courtyards and halls. You feel the sense of grandeur, also your insignificance, and wonder at human ingenuity and conflict as you walk The Great Wall. You try your hand at your best bargaining skills at markets as you try to get to get the lowest price on clothes, shoes and the like. They yell at you, shouting for your business; they appear offended when you offer a significantly lower price.

Also culturally surprising was what each school brought to Beijing. The majority of the faulcty were Australian, and a few from elsewhere, like North America. The biggest surprise to me was meeting so many South Africans - students and teachers. I sometimes get lulled into this false sense that if a country also speaks English, they must have the same cultural experiences and values as me. The largest group of them was from the most exclusive school in South Africa - an all-boys all-boarding school in the English tradition. Wow, what another world they come from too! Their boys are gentlemen - they all call their teachers and elders Sir or Ma'am, and they hold open doors and stuff for others. Not done out of obligation or mockery, but out of respect and discipline. Most exemplified for me on one occasion where the faculty were a bit late to the soundcheck at the China Conservatory in Beijing and so we slipped in, and stood on the steps while there was a briefing. All the students were seated. I was happy to stand as I knew I'd probably be sitting around for much of the morning. With no prompting, two of the boys from the school got up, exited their row and said to me and another, "Ma'am, please have my seat". No questions asked.  I was very struck by them and their school - so much that I'd like to visit South Africa and visit their school and also another school in Cape Town where I had a couple of students.

Their music-making was also extremely different to ours in many ways. While it was not perfect (nobody is!) it definitely had so much life and joy that was so obvious to the audience. So much of what they performed made everybody want to dance along. Their marimba ensemble had everybody grooving. Their choir was beautiful, even though apparently they were feeling a bit nervous and apprehensive and did not expect such a overwhelming receptino from the audience. It was very funny, then, at the Farewell Banquet when a rock band from one of the Australian schools played and all the Australian students started dancing. By dancing I mostly mean standing in a group and jumping up and down in very vague time. In contrast, most of the South Africans, who obviously have groove built into them, stood awkwardly at the back trying to figure out how to dance to this music! I sat down next to one of the teachers from the school and remarked at how funny this was, and he replied with, "I have to get a photo or video of this! People won't believe it back home!". Haha.


Back to China. Maybe more chornologically here on in....

Now the whole story....(warning: is very long, just in case the above wasn't long enough!)
We travelled with China Southern Airways and were seated in Premium Economy which was actually a bit better than normal Economy. The bathroom was like a suite - there was so much space! The long plane trip provided great opportunity and time to get to know my neighbours, including the saxophone tutor who chewed my ears off! (It's okay, we became friends and I even sat next to him all the way home, so he mustn't have been that intolerable!) The layover in Guangzhou was also a meeting point for a few other tutors and it was nice to spend a little bit of time meeting and getting to know them.

The first couple of days were spent just with the faculty: to get settled into Beijing and to have some rehearsals and a bit of a plan of how we were going to run things. We were bussed to Dulwich International School, which is about one hour out of the city and has Beijing's only cricket and rugby pitches. The school has lots of space, but with the city ever-expanding, the land will probably be prime real estate very soon! We were also bussed to have lunch and dinners at various local restaurants, which at first served a Chinese cuisine so Western (maybe in anticipation of Western tastebuds?!) that we protested that we wanted real Chinese food. I will point out that our party pretty much used chopsticks for the entire trip; we're real cultured and stuff.

On the first day we met with all of the school teachers to set the tone for the entire festival, and to introduce all of us. There were so many of us, it was somewhat overwhelming to have everybody go around the room and say what their name was; I have a really leaky head so by the time we got halfway around the room I had already forgetten a lot of the names and where they were from and what ensemble they took! I targetted a couple of teachers from the schools from which I had some students. We talked a bit about their music programme, and I asked what I could be helping their students with.

We then headed off to tour a hutong and have lunch at a local family's home. The hutongs are a remaining part of old Beijing, where modernisation has not encroached. There are all sorts of alleys and roads connecting the labyrinth, and are where families used to live together in little communities. Our hutong tour guide Alice (riding a bike) led our party (following in rickshaws) through the maze and we had a home-cooked lunch, and then met the father of the family. He told us a bit about his family, and showed us some of the hand-cut paper cut-outs that adorned the ceiling of the main room. They were beautiful and intricate! We then headed off to see a tea ceremony. There were all sorts of different types of tea: jasmine, hand-rolled flower, white (NOT tea with milk!), tea that was good for skin or losing weight and so forth. Each was brewed in a different manner, in a different pot. For example, we learnt that one is supposed to pour hot water over the clay teapot to warm it up. Also, the outside is smooth but the inside is rough, in order to absorb the flavour of the tea; and one flavour of tea is for each teapot so as not to cross flavours. We were each allocated a teacup and another taller cylindrical cup into which the demonstrator poured the tea. The teacup is then placed over the cylinder and then inverted (very hot!). Then you can smell the flavour of the tea from the cylinder and roll it around in your hands to warm your hands. They were all beautiful! Of course, purchases from their shpo ensued...

We had a Welcome Dinner at the ballroom in our hotel that night where we could be in the same room as everybody: other tutors, the teachers, the students, and some supporters (mostly parents who were also on the trip. They had activities organised for them every day, and they also came to the concerts. Good holiday, huh?) There were a few speeches to welcome everybody and the faculty performed a few pieces to show us all off. We ended with a Ross Edwards piece where we were all stationed around the room.

The next day we started classes proper - I got to meet my students and they got stuck into tutti ensembles. We ate cafeteria lunch (serious downer after a few days of really good food) and then were off to our next adventure: the Summer Palace. It is as it sounds: the summer residence of the emperor. This has a long and messy history; the Summer Palace was built by the emporer to celebrate his mother's birthday but through time, had been burnt down several times. We learnt about the Dragon Lady, Empres Cixi, who was a power-hungry imperial concubine who bore a son for the emperor. She went on to control two other emperors, doing everything in her means to retain power. She killed lots of people, bankrupted the nation, dismantled the navy and unwittingly paved the way to the end of the imperial era. The Summer Palace is huge - about three times as big as Forbidden City! There is a lake, and as you walk around, you forget that this is still in Beijing, a bustling city! There is also a beautiful long corridor with paintings depicting all sorts of things, including Chinese stories and scenes, nature and traditional Chinese designs, the longest painted corridor in the world. 

At night we went to Wangfujing Street, which is a big mall with all sorts of shops - including big international chains. I have to admit that as it was so hot, we treated ourselves to Haagen-Dazs ice-cream. We wandered around as the sun set, poked our noses into a few shops and avoided getting hit in the head with flying lit helicopter toys. We also saw the Wangfujing food market, which was serving up all sorts of meat including scorpions and snake. On our way back we drove along the Avenue of Everlasting Peace, which is a road that stretches for a while and runs through the centre of Beijing. We drove past the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square and the concert hall and all sorts of fun things in the city centre.

The next day was a full day of teaching. We definitely deserved the drinks at the end of it all! This was a long and tiring day, but also fun. Due to the nature of the programme, there would be classes in which students would be coming and going, and also students were at some liberty to pick which masterclasses they wanted to go to, particularly if they play several instruments and sing. I felt a little bit like a broken record through this day (and also the other full day of teaching) but hopefully it wasn't too boring for the students! At lunchtime, we had the first of the two faculty concerts, where I played the first mvoement of the Schumann quintet. What fun it was to revisit the piece. We unfortunately had to endure cafeteria food for dinner but enjoyed a fun student concert in the evening. We were treated to the ensembles from three of the schools. It was a long evening, with many stage changes and talking in-between, but it was also so wonderful to see the work that the students had put in and just to enjoy having music played for us. I already raved a bit about Hilton above, so needn't say too much more except that by the end they had a whole bunch of people flood onto the stage below and start dancing, and then at the end they launched into a school cheer. How's that for brotherhood?! There were also a number of ensembles from St Stephen's School in Perth and it was really lovely to see one of my students performing in so many of their groups - choirs and bands.

Tuesday was thankfully just a half day of teaching. All the masterclasses were in one hour blocks or so, with ten minutes inbetween to shuffle between activities. Each day the students also had combined tutti ensembles: either orchestra, band, vocal ensemble, big band, mixed ensemble, or guitar ensemble, or in my case, tutoring the the Piano Duo made up of the two Chinese students working on Ravel. In the afternoon we went to the Silk Market, but that day it was raining so the traffic was pretty horrendous. The journey that should have taken about an hour took almost double that! Most of the tutors this year have already been to Beijing for this festival two years ago, so many didn't want to join in (and couldn't stand the idea of more cafeteria food). Those wishing to go shopping were in the minority, so we hopped on some of the student buses to go there. Thankfully I was not the lone female tutor on the all-boys school bus! Aimee and I hit the shops eager to try out our bargaining skills. We were pretty fresh at it, sometimes doubting whether we made a good purchase or not, and getting better at our, "Oh no, too expensive" and walking away act. Only to be yelled at: "Lady, you come back here!" when they really wanted the sale. I think we did pretty well for our first go. We made a few purchases and were sporting a few shopping bags. We ran into a few of the girls around the markets, who surprisingly didn't have that much shopping. The boys on the other hand, as we clambered back onto the buses, sported shopping bags galore full of shoes, clothes, headphones and the like. It seems that the girls were in general a bit uncomfortable about bargaining but the boys seemed to take on the challenge, egging each other on: "How much did you get that for? I got it for 30. I bet I could get the next thing down to 20."

We then had dinner en masse at a restaurant and then went to see an acrobatics show. If you get the chance to see one of these in China, go! They are pretty amazing. We saw a tightrope walker (who did all manners of tumbles and even unicycled on the tightrope!), a deft juggler, dancing girls who made formations while throwing and turning diablos, a contortionist so flexible it was difficult to tell whether she was forwards or backwards, gymnasts who tumbled through hoops, guys who clambered up poles and jumped around (sounds silly, but they were rad), and the same girls with fans who also rode bikes around the stage and even stood up on the handlebars and seat while the bikes were in motion! It was an incredible show!

A second full day of teaching was up next, broken up by a quick rehearsal for the faculty for our item in the grand concert a few days later. We thankfully re-negotiated the morning masterclass times to be a little bit shorter as the traffic was pretty bad and we were late. An even longer student concert in the evening made the post-epic day drinks very well-deserved, but again, it was great to see our students perform, and hoepfully have some fun doing so! Thus ended our time at Dulwich College, which played fantastic host to us (despite the lacklustre cafeteria food).

On Thursday we had a day at the China Conservatory. The morning was taken up with soundchecks for the various tutti ensembles. The hall at the China Conservatory is beautiful; it has a beautiful sound, the sound and feeling is quite true on stage and while it is fairly sizeable, it still feel quite intimate and doesn't feel too big. We had a fairly quiet rest of the day, with a brief rehearsal in the afternoon for the faculty ensemble for the Butterfly Lovers concerto, complete with cuts and all. The Grand Concert was that night, and the product of the hard work of so many people. It was really wonderful to see the tutti ensembles, to witness my piano duo ensemble perform (debut!), to hear the new composition written for the recorder and marimba ensemble, to see the primary school from China and their wind and percussion orchestra (this was amazing. So tight! So diligent! But also a small level of creepy haha). It was also extremely warm to play on the nice stage!

The final full day was an excursion to the Great Wall of China. I had been looking forward to this excursion very much, with the anticipation that I was going to be quite overwhelmed by the entire experience. We went to the popular site, Badaling, which is probably the closest part to the city. Thankfully we went pretty early, so it wasn't too crowded by the time we got there, but it definitely filled up quickly! We started out with a performance by the tutti choir (all the students!) of Demot's piece "My love is greater than the great wall" at the wall, which was a pretty cool experience for the students, and onlookers and probably Dermot too! A couple of great moments captured on video are two things Dermot yells out:
i) "Smile, you idiots!" mid-piece, and
ii) At the end, "Now scream and go crazy"
Climbing the Great Wall was really tough going. It was a hot day, and there is no shade until you get to a tower. The wall was built by slaves (lots of them!) and often when they died there was not enough time to have a proper burial or anything like that, so many bodies were built into the wall. The towers were used to send smoke signals back to the Forbidden City if they saw enemies advancing; the different smoke signals indicated how many troops there were, and could be seen from the city (unlike some days in Beijing that are obscured by smog!) and from there, the army in the city could get ready for battle in half an hour. Efficient communication method, huh? The steps to the Great Wall are all of uneven size, some very large - up to my knee. Makes life especially difficult for small people! Some of the steps have parts that are worn away, so there is no regularity as you're going up. Some parts are very steep too, so there was a lot of self-talk and will to get me along! I only made it to the first tower; I had wanted to go further, but my lack of fitness really didn't permit that. Next time I will train for a year in advance! When I got to the first tower, my back was drenched in sweat, my heart was pounding and my gut a little bit queasy. But I was pretty happy with my effort and was rewarded with some pretty good views. Coming back down was possibly even harder - the hardest being the very slight downwards slope at the end, just when you think you've completed it, the shins complaining and all! An ice-cream (or two, in Bevan's case!) were good treats.
PD says that the experience of climbing the Great Wall never gets old for him. I think I can understand that. I hope next time I will have the energy, fitness and will to go further!

We then bussed off, all sweaty and exhausted, to the Silk Market again for another time to try our hand at more shopping and bargaining. This time I was armed and more than ready. I went in with a plan and a list of what I wanted to buy, and came out fairly successfully! I stood my ground on multiple occasions, doing a little bit of shopping that friends have talked about as an experience in China. We clambered back onto the (tutor) bus with all our wares and excited cries of "what did you buy?!"

The Farewell Dinner was held on the Friday night at our hotel's ballroom. Such a strange feeling to be at the end of the festival, being ina  room of lots of people that we now knew a bit more. There were lots of photos being taken, much more inter-school interaction and a feeling of great relief that we'd gotten through the week and also bittersweetness as we knew this was the end of the week. There were a few speeches of thanks, lots of hugs, exchanges of emails, and a few musical performances including a fun gumboot dance from a small group of Hilton boys. What a fun way to end the formal part of the festival.

Celebrations went late into the night, but I was exhausted and slightly hysterical (to the point of crying haha) that I went back to my room to pack as there was yet another early start to the next day. No tour of Beijing is complete without visiting the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square. What an incredible place this is. Tiananmen Square is right in the middle of the city, and is the world's largest public square. Obviously, due to the political events that have taken place there, there is tight security. But many people still flock to it. Particularly to see Mao's Mausoleum; there already was a cue at about 8.30 in the morning, and people sometimes queue for hours to get in. To be honest, I don't really see the point of seeing a dead body, but each to their own. And I also am somewhat baffled about the Mao-worship that still remains a sentiment among some of the people. We walked through the square, and then headed to the Forbidden City.

The Forbidden City is at the heart of Beijing, the former residence of the emperor and his family and entourage. The emperor had complete power, almost as a deity; what he said, happened. There are three main halls and a series of many gates to enter before even getting to the centre. There are a large series of courtyards for all the different people, including the emperor's private courtyard (very big!) and also a courtyard each for each of the concubines! The main square in the Forbidden City is large, and is where the people used to congregate. The emperor could sit in the throne room on his throne and look out, but people cannot see in. The bricks underfoot are fifteen layers deep to prevent anybody tunnelling in. Woe betide those who attempt it!!! We learnt about the life of the concubines: they were selected every year during a selection period, from a set of girls who came from the royal family. They were wihsked away to the Forbidden City where they would fight for their chance to be the favoured concubine, often by bearing a son. Those who found favour with the emperor had significant improvements - not just for themselves, but also their family, who would be granted more land and money and their relations promoted to higher offices. But those concubines who fell pregnant would also be plotted against by the other concubines, who would attempt to kill her and/or her child, by poisoning or 'accidental' falling. We also saw the private courtyard of the Dragon Lady (of Summer Palace infamy), including the throne room where she sat behind a screen with the Dowager Empress as they tried to control a young emporer. The Imperial Garden is the only place in the Forbidden City to have trees, and was the garden for the concubines to enjoy. It was hard at times to imagine that we were in busy Beijing as we wandered around the Forbidden City, steeped in history and tradition.

We were then off to the airport to catch our long flight home, to rest and recover and for me, to re-live all the moments of an incredible adventure.

There were great moments of 'lost in translation' through the trip: often they were signs that were mistranslated, particularly at the breakfast bar at our hotel! Also, being of Chinese ethnicity, I was often mistaken for being able to speak Mandarin. This was only handy infrequently, as I was sometimes not harrassed in the same way to buy things. However, it worked mostly against my favour, starting out at Melbourne Airport where the security lady said to me, "xie xie" (thankyou) and I replied in a very Australian "ta". Things continued on the plane were the stewardesses would come around with food and drink and start talking in Mandarin to whcih I had to pull blank faces and sheepishly ask, "Can you please repeat that in English?". There were moments of gesticulation at the hotel reception and business centre to try buy stamps for postcards to send home. Even the arrival card I was handed on the way back home was in Chinese - I thought I could fill it out anyway, but realised that I didn't understand any of it! At shops, when I mumbled, "English....", I had a few comments: "But you look Chinese!" I had to reply with, "I am...but Australian!" and while trying shoes, "You have small feet, like Chinese feet!". "They ARE Chinese feet!" was my quiet protest.

We were so fortunate to have such an excellent tour guide in Amanda. She kept us entertained on bus rides with many stories of her childhood and growing up, her family, how Beijing and China have changed across time - politically, demograhpically and socially, many funny stories of everyday life in Beijing now, and the many 'lost in translation' English stories! Let's just say that concubines are  not cucumbers! To the organisers and people that did so much work: Peter, Xiaolei, Bevan, Aimee, the Dulwich College helpers, their work, organisation and enthusiasm was incredible. The other tutors, led by Chairman PD, were a joy to meet and work with. The students and teachers I met were beautiful and such a pleasure to teach and learn from.

If you've made it to the end of this post, congratulations. You definitely deserve a medal. I hope I will get the opportunity to do this festival again - so much has been sparked and I need another fix of fascination, bafflement and wonder!

A story of page-turning

While most posts on this blog are of musings and reflection, I warn you although this following one will also be that, but will not have a happy outcome (unlike most of the others here). I do not often rant negatively here - though ranting on in general seems to be my forte - but in this instance, this story is too incredulous not to be documented. This post does not intend to offend nor humiliate, thus anonymity. It merely hopes to document, shed light and hopefully educate.  

Recently, I played for a recital where I required a page turner. Now, I will be the first to admit that page-turning can often be a daunting job. And we, as humans, are subject to error. I can accept that. And usually if something has gone pear-shaped and I whip a page over or back with speed and a grumpy face, it's usually just because I need something done quickly and I do it myself. Peter Donohoe has written an excellent article about "The Art of Page-turning", which can be found here. While it is quite long, it is well worth the read and is also full of great anecdotes. But he makes the point that a good page turner is worth their weight in gold, and often is the last person to be thanked. But woe betide the page turner that does a bad job! There are several grievous offences, including having bad body odour or breath, using the right hand instead of the left, consistently turning too early or too late, among others....
Such offences can severely distract the pianist and even compromise an performance. Not to scare anybody, but because I think it important that all musicians have the ability to do it because you never know when you might just have to. And to highlight the importance of doing at least a satisfactory job.

So, the story.
I started playing, having turned down the top right corner of the first page. Just so, you know, the first one is easy. As I get to the bottom of the page, the page-turner (let's just refer from here on in as PT) jumps up suddenly, and uses the right hand. Oh, that's okay, the music and the keys are obscured momentarily but I know it quite well so it's okay. So, a right hand turner. Let's see if PT gets it correct the next time. Nope. PT continues to use the right hand to turn. I mean, I know the music and keyboard pretty well but it's good to have visual recognition at the times you desire.
I didn't want to break the flow of the first set of pieces so had to wait until the break in the middle (an excruciating 12 minutes in)  to lean over and ask, "Can you use your left hand?".

But no, sometimes the right hand is not sufficient enough to do the job.
I had briefed the PT just prior, that the music was all straight through, no turn-backs. Only for the first set, and a bit of the second. Maybe just follow the music, and I'll nod as well. PT is pretty keen on following the music. And only gets up at best, two bars before the end of the page. Because they're following the music, right? But because two bars is not enough time to get up, get (right) hand ready and flick the page (which is not old music or anything, no sticking together, just regular A4 copy paper), PT gets worried that the music that is sounding is not as followed so starts to kerfuffle with two hands trying to furiously get the page over in the most noisy and obtrusive of fashions.
Especially in the quiet moments where there are amazing changes of harmony. Or in slow movements.
Or when there is a double bar at the end of the page, furiously flicking over to reveal the next movement, or even better, two blank pages.

Because we're following the music exactly, PT also fails to notice peripheral things. Such as me furiously nodding to turn the page. Or the furious shaking of head to indicate that this is the end of the movement and it doesn't need turning. I probably should have glared, but i) didn't have the heart to do so and ii) was so distracted already that all energies had to be focussed on actually playing rather than multitasking.


But just in case all that wasn't enough...
At the end, the PT commented and asked, "Oh, does the page turner always sit on the left? Because perhaps I should have sat on your right hand side so that I could have used my right hand."

Followed by the response to my question, "What do you play?"

"The piano."







Okay, so I get that not everybody has done page turning. And many people don't enjoy it. But here are my two cents worth:
i) If you're a musician, you need to be able to do it at least to a basic level of satisfaction. Because you might be called on to do it and just HAVE to do it. And except in the case of extremely difficult music, should not be a task more difficult than actually playing music.
I don't mind if you are an early-preparation person, or stand up in time to flick it over and sit back down again in one movement. Just make sure it happens without fuss.
ii) Okay, so maybe this PT had never done it and was inexperienced. But:
a/ Had not considered what things might be helpful or unhelpful if they were in my position (as a pianist!)
b/ Had no awareness of what was going on around them - musically or physically. Nor learnt across time. I just don't get that.

It was my error: I should have sacked the PT while I had a chance; as it turns out that hindsight is a wonderful thing and the stress caused by the PT was far greater than the act of doing the page turns myself.

Thoughts, comments, incredulity welcome.

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!