Reading Problems

Reading linguistic words and reading musical notes are two fundamentally different activities with two entirely different outcomes. Reading words results in mental ideas (Dony has animals!), which lead to further ideas (Is this on a farm?).Reading notes results physical action (Right arm bow-stroke! Left hand fingering!), which leads to sound (Ringing “C”?). Pausing the eye at commas, periods, unknown vocabulary, is inherent to the process of reading words and forming ideas. Continuous forward eye-motion is inherent to reading notes, to render the on-going pulse of music. The neurological process of reading words can be fraught, think dyslexia, and so can the process of reading notes. Personally, while I have no issues reading words, I have come to notice a number of difficulties reading music. Here are some of them:

My eye does not physically scan continually forward across the staff at a continuous rate. It pauses at anything it doesn’t quickly recognize, as it might in reading a sentence. Encountering an uncomfortable notational figure, my eye may try to loop back over it seeking familiarity. In a familiar piece, my eye might lag behind the notes being played. If my eye has paused, and muscle memory has carried the phrase forward, my eye will frantically scramble looking to catch up. Any of these erratic actions interfere with the essential forward momentum of the music.

Aside from eye-motion, as if failing to distinguish between the letters “C” and “G” (is that COT or GOT?), sometimes I can’t identify a note in passing: they look too similar to me on the staff.  Associated with this issue is a visual illusion of the staff is shifting up or down behind the notes, so a D can change into an F, or vice-versa.

Reading problems interfere with making music, as they typically cause me to freeze mid-play, and the pulse stops, and the sound stops, and the music stops. Everyone who has ever worked with me has noticed the problem. “Just keep going. Don’t stop.” is the predominant instruction. This is like taking someone who has never seen snow to the top of a ski-hill and telling them “Just keep going. Don’t stop.” What they would end up doing would hardly be called skiing.

Reading problems also cause me intense anxiety. When I go to play a piece that I’ve studied well, I know reading mistakes will crop up randomly, interfering with the performance. I can’t seem to practice my way out of them. It is like cooking in my too-familiar kitchen and today I can’t remember where the salt and the bowls are, and tomorrow I can’t remember where where the butter and the knifes are. So each time I start to cook I know I’ll forget something, but I don’t know what that something will be.

If there is a dyslexia of reading music notation, I have it.

In the world of reading-words instruction, there is an abundance of research and pedagogy to mitigate reading difficulties cause by neurological mis-processing. Does any such research and pedagogy exist for reading-notes? My guess is no. Typically, people who fail to progress at making music learn to quit trying, or drop out. I find this sad, and I refuse to capitulate. If there are best practices for alleviating note-reading difficulties, I hope to find them. In the meantime, I continue to practice and explore and see what I can figure out on my own.
Copyright 2018, All rights reserved.

Dream Abandoned; Dream Pursued

 I cried myself to sleep last night.

I always wanted to learn to play a musical instrument, ever since I was a child, to become a musician. I tried piano and guitar, and experimented with others. I took lessons when I could and took classes. I practiced. I joined choirs. As an adult I had some success with voice. Yet, despite the desire and effort, nothing happened.

Reading stumbled, fingers stumbled, always. Internally I knew something essential was missing, some disconnect existed. If there was opportunity to perform, I could see the boredom on listeners’ faces. My conveyance was empty, always.

After five decades of trying and failing I said to myself, “Kate, this door will not open. This is not for you. You don’t get everything you want in life. It is time to move on.” My yearning laid to rest.

I cried myself to sleep last night.

A few years later, on a whim, with zero expectation, I tried messing around with a violin that had been lying around the house. This violin chose me.

It has been seven years now. I practice every day. I finished Suzuki Book IV. I stand in recitals. I sit in an orchestra. I formed a string trio. I have a new violin and bow, both by master craftsmen.

When the violin chose me, I asked myself, “Is it possible to change one’s self? Is it possible to change how one thinks and exists?” For that was what I would have to do in order to learn to play.

With the guidance of several remarkable teachers, some long term, some short term, and a symphony of supportive friends, with ibuprofen throughout the first year, and hours and hours daily of practice, with dogmatic perseverance and high aspiration, with seemingly imperceivable steps: the essential something is being found, the disconnect is fading. I am learning that one is not necessarily confined to live within the box of one’s life. That it is not easy to get out, but that it can be done.

And while lying in bed in the quiet at end of day, I remembered playing through Haydn’s Divertimento with my trio, how we kept the tempo and didn’t stop, how I could read the music and always knew where we were, how we would breath together and cue each other, how the sound of our harmonies pleased my ear, and yes we were under tempo and yes we have a lot of improvement to do, but we played it, together.

I had felt the coordination of my eyes and hands, I had felt the momentum of the continuous sound, I had felt the connection with my partners and the music, I had felt the path to expression being laid; and I felt such fulfillment from obstacles overcome and such anticipation of achievement to come, that tears of joy reigned and I cried myself to sleep last night.
Copyright 2018, all rights reserved.

Cut-and-Paste Music Analysis

I’d been studying the Bach Double Violin Concerto from Suzuki Book IV for several months, slowly and arduously bringing it to life with my fingers and bow-arm, when I realized that it sounded to me like a long and tangled piece of spaghetti. I couldn’t make sense of its musical thread, and I didn’t (still don’t!) have the musical experience or theory education to figure it out. The visual patterns in the score didn’t make sense to me either – they all seemed so random. Then I thought, “Hey! I went to Kindergarten! I know how to cut and paste!”

I made several copies of the score, got out the scissors and tape, and went to work looking for patterns and pulling them together.

Because my teacher first worked on developing my detache stroke, I looked for all sets of sixteenth notes that used detache, and created this page (5 of them, actually. There’s a lot of detache in this piece.):

Next, he worked on honing martele stroke (usually involving a string crossing, and sometimes 2, which adds complication), and I created this worksheet (showing page 1/2):

Eight-note scales show up in the piece (Only 6 times, only 1 is ascending, and they are all unique. Did you know this?):

As do triads of various types (in an extended run if they are 16th notes):

And there are half-notes requiring vibrato (all of which have similar entries and exits):

These 5 worksheets gave me the opportunity to isolate specific techniques that I needed to develop, and practice EVERY occurrence of them. The white space around each bit of music helped to isolate the bit, and prevented playing beyond it simply because more music was there, thus solving a persistant practice problem. Placing sequential bits in sequence allowed for building up a phrase one beat at a time.

There is also a worksheet that identifies shifts, so I can learn exactly where they are, and make sure that I practice each of them.

Those are the sheets that help identify and isolate playing technique. The next group of sheets involved identifying musical elements so I could start to feel the structure of this concerto.

I started by identifying the opening and closing gestures, and every place they occurred. Notice that the opening gesture is used only twice in the piece, the second time in modulation to the dominant, and it is still early on in the piece (m 14). The initial closing gesture of a phrase (m 8) appears 5 times, spaced throughout the piece:

But there is an alternate opening gesture that first appears in m 26, and is used throughout the rest of the piece. This 2nd gesture has two different rhythmic continuations. Pulling all this information together in one place, without the distraction of other aspects of the music, allowed me to study it, compare and contrast, and learn exactly what is what and where is where, which increases my familiarity with the piece and learn its architecture, which helps me not get lost in the playing of it.

After openings and closings, I looked for sequences (3 pages). Practicing them in isolation helps my fingers master their varying patterns:

There is a single larger sequence (the opening phrase) that repeats and modulates:

And a couple of larger sequences that repeat verbatim:

All of this looking and questioning and thinking and identifying, and cutting and pasting, took a couple of days. It was a couple of days very well spent, as it gave me an entre into understanding the musical structure and flow of the piece, which I would not have had otherwise, and it gave me a tool for isolating and mastering technical elements in practice. It gave me the possibility of moving beyond presenting this piece as simply a sloppy plate of spaghetti.

Last word: If you want to try Cut-and-Paste Music Analysis for yourself, DO NOT COPY what I did. It won’t help you. Ask yourself your own questions: What do I want to know? What is confusing to me? What patterns can I find? Only through your own process of discovery will you find enlightenment.


Copyright 2018, All rights reserved.

Chamber Music, Intimacy, Joy

With a bungling beginning, oh the first attempt was awkward. Even painful. We didn’t know if we’d be able to learn it. But we did! Everyone was so committed and worked so hard. I am so proud of my trio. We learned so much, individually and collectively: Haydn’s Divertimento VI for String Trio.

Along with the music, I learned that the core of chamber ensemble work is exposure, dependency, and responsibility.

Exposure, because, as the only person with your part, you will be heard, in all your glory and all your failing, first by your partners, and then by your audience. Everyone will know exactly what you can and cannot do. Unlike real life and the masks we wear and deflections we wield to hide our imperfections, there is no hiding in a chamber ensemble, from anyone.

Dependency, because without the full and best contribution of each ensemble member, the music will fail to exist, and the efforts of one’s partners will have been wasted.

Responsibility, because others are relying on you to do everything you can to help them do everything they can so you can all bring your music to life.

All of this exposure and dependency and responsibility requires a high level of trust among group members. Trust that everyone will strive their fullest and contribute their best. Trust that everyone will support each other in this striving.

Trust, in turn, requires personal intimacy. Intimacy expressed in knowing members’ strengths, accepting their weaknesses, encouraging their growth, and appreciating their contribution in accepting, loving, non-judgmental fashion. Intimacy that allows the creation of a supportive, nurturing environment in which to work together.

In return for commitment to intimacy and trust, you receive joy. Joy of music. Joy of belonging. Joy of friendship. Joy of support. Joy of work. Joy of growth. Joy of sharing.

It had been told to me that playing chamber music is among the most intimate of experiences. I had never understood what that meant. Now I do, from playing with my trio. It is an intimacy found in a sonic realm, through the caressing of another’s sound with one’s own, that can be found in no other way. And when infused with trust and joy, chamber music adds a deeply fulfilling level of personal intimacy to life.
Copyright 2017, All rights reserved.

Best Trio Ever!

Here are 10 reasons why I love my trio:

Everyone loves their instrument, and music, and learning to play.
Everyone is dedicated.
Everyone takes private lessons.
Everyone practices on their own.
Everyone comes to rehearsals prepared.
Everyone works hard.
Everyone is reliable.
Everyone is kind and friendly and interesting and fun to be with.
Everyone brings musical experience into the group, and shares what they know.
Everyone listens to each other.
Everyone supports each other.
Everyone helps each other work out tricky parts.
Everyone focuses at rehearsals.
Everyone is easy and flexible with scheduling meetings.
Everyone respects our coaches and applies what is taught.
Everyone wants to get better, and to perform at our best.
Everyone is excited about working together.
Everyone brings joy and wonder to music and to life.

We started 3 months ago. Cello and viola are accomplished musicians on piano and french horn, but we are all adult-beginners on our string instruments, and this is the first small string ensemble for each of us. My violin teacher agreed to coach us on Haydn’s Divertimento VI. Our first lesson was about feeling a scale together, in tune, watching each other and breathing together. Just the basics! Our first attempt to play the piece was painful. However, after one lesson per movement, and 2 guest coaches on musicianship (Appoggiatura = tension/release = drama/calm = strong/weak, and it’s all over the place! Or, which instrument has the beat when? Rhythm is important! Or, where is conversation happening, and when do you play off each other?) we are playing the entire piece through, comfortably and musically. Our 4 performances will be the test of what we have learned and accomplished.

The most important aspect of a chamber ensemble is how the members respect and appreciate each other, to what degree they work together and get along. In this regard, we are lucky. For a random grouping of adult students, we share common work ethic and aspiration. Practicing and learning together some 6 – 8 hours a week over 10 weeks, we worked hard together, enjoyed each other’s company, and take pride in our joint achievement.

From my partners I have learned what joy it is to play in a small ensemble, and what wonder the making and sharing of music brings to life.
Copyright 2017, All rights reserved.

Fridays @ 5: David-Porter

 The thing about violinist and violin-teacher David-Porter is that he draws me into my dis-comfort zone, relentlessly, every lesson. My job as a student is to go home and spend the week turning that dis-comfort zone into a comfort zone. No tears allowed. And as my goal is to learn to play violin, we wouldn’t want it any other way.

Progress is tacitly acknowledged. The real teaching comes from his weaving his way through the labyrinth of my ineptitude, showing me the sights and providing musical guidance as we go. Always prodding, always pushing, David-Porter isn’t interested in producing mediocre violinists, and it takes a certain kind of stamina to stand for his weekly challenge.

Lately we’ve been working on bowing techniques and the various colors they produce. David-Porter exudes a trust that, with time, I will master these techniques and their subtleties; that, as breath and vocal cords learn to automatically produce expressive language, so will my breath and arm learn to do for music. This trust gives me confidence to toil forward weekly, violin in tow.

If you want to push yourself and maximize your ability, it helps to seek out an elite-violinist and teacher like David-Porter. The higher the level a musician works at and continuously pursues, the more highly their hearing and expressive ability is developed over the decades of a career; and if such violinist cares deeply about the process of translating and providing this information for those lower down the chain, then you have a great teacher uncanny at drawing the best from their students. David-Porter is one such.
copyright 2017, All rights reserved.
photo by Francisco Kjolseth, Salt Lake Tribune