In which he plays his first Steinway (long-ish)

About three weeks ago, I met some old college buddies in Nashville to watch Vanderbilt get destroyed by Kentucky* in football. Eh, it happens, one gets used to it. (Rice fans, testify! Can I get an "Amen!"?)

* - A truly unrelated observation: can somebody explain to me why Kentucky fans travel in such numbers to watch their team play football? Dudley Field, home of the Vanderbilt Commodores, seats roughly 40,000 people. Come game day, there were 30,000 Kentucky fans in attendance. Basketball, I get, but what interest do Kentucky fans have in football? Professor K, can you help me out here?

Nashville is a comfortable drive from 41 miles west of Chicago, but part of the weekend involves some Friday afternoon golf. Driving in time for tee-time would mean getting up and hitting the road around 4 AM, which is a lousy way to start a busy weekend that also includes late night card-playing and such. As luck has it, one of my buddies is a surgeon in Elizabethtown, Kentucky, and that represents a comfortable stopping point. So I rolled into Dr. C's driveway late Thursday evening, caught up on current events, debated the Public Option, and went to bed.

Next morning, I woke up to an empty house, save me and two Chihuahuas*. Dr. C was visiting some patients he'd worked on the day before, and his wife Penny was delivering the kids to school. I put on my running shoes, and went out for a run. On the way to the front door, I noticed something that had escaped my attention the evening before... a large grand piano. I took a closer look at it and saw that it was a Steinway, which I guessed to be about 6' or so.

* - What is it with our friends and Chihuahua pairs? Thankfully, all dogs survived this visit.

So I immediately scrapped all other plans, and went to town on the piano. At least, you'd think that, knowing me. Well, I didn't. Volleyball season is fast approaching, and I'd been getting away from that "get in shape" thing I have to do these days just to be able to play. And besides, something didn't feel right about sitting down at this beautiful piano without, you know, permission or something. So I headed out with my Blackberry and headphones, and went for a run around Dr. C's neighborhood.

That took around 45 minutes. During that time, I talked myself out of the very sensible decision to ask permission to play the piano, and used that as motivation to get back to the house quickly. I justified myself thusly: "Why inflict my poor playing upon my kind hosts? They should be spared that."

When I got back, I was unpleasantly surprised to learn that I had locked myself out. The only creatures inside the house were the two yappy, unhelpful, and very agitated Chihuahuas. For 30 minutes, I alternated periods off stretching and canvassing the outside of the house for the proverbial spare-key-under-the-rock / statue. (Admit it: you have one, don't you?) The whole time, trying (and probably failing) to look perfectly innocent. Finally, in response to a text I had sent him, Dr. C told me where I could find the key, and voila, I was back in the house.

The dogs looked at me like, "Oh, it's you. Never mind all that hollering we were just doing."

By this point, I was very much looking forward to playing the piano. But there was a problem: my hands were frozen stiff. They were useless. It was probably 40 degrees that morning, and I had been outside for over an hour by this point. I could not play the piano at all. I tried anyway, of course, but it was awful. And about this point, Penny, Dr. C's wife, returned. And heard, oh, about 45 seconds of the misery I was inflicting on the piano. And said, in that sincere way that Southern folks can when they say something nice that flies in the face of all available evidence, "You play beautifully."

We got to talking, and Penny told the story of how they acquired the piano. Dr. C has an aging rich Uncle with no heirs, and wanted to do something nice for his nephew. About two years ago, they met at the Steinway store in Louisville, played a couple of pianos, and chose this new mahogany O. It took about an hour.

Since then, the Steinway techs have been by a half-dozen times to service the piano, most recently two days before my arrival. Apparently the Steinway people are a little fussy about how you treat their product... they say things like, "Uh, Mrs. C, there is too much dust on the instrument, you folks need to pay a little closer attention to that." And "Dr. C, those Southeast-facing windows will allow morning sunlight to fall upon the instrument" (they like to call it that, I guess) "during the Winter months. You are going to have to move it to a new location, please." They take notes on these things, like a doctor maintaining medical records, and are unhappy when they find their advice / suggestions from the previous visit go unheeded. I guess this is all part of the Steinway experience.

Penny went on to tell me that the piano isn't played very much. Dr. C played as a child, but rarely today. Their children take lessons on it, but don't practice as much as they should. The older one would be really good if he practiced. And Penny doesn't play at all, which you might have already surmised by her review of my playing.

Dr. C got home shortly thereafter. We all had breakfast together, cleaned up, and still had some unscheduled time. I sat down once more (with permission this time), and took a go at I Due Fiumi and my most recent recital piece, the first movement of the Clementi Sonatina. I had to play from memory, since I didn't bring any music (that'll learn me). I played these things well enough the second time around to get a good feel for the piano.

Of course it was amazing. Neutral in all respects, which I believe most Steinway folks regard as a good thing. Bass? Plenty, but somehow not booming. Treble? Wonderful and clear, but without that bell-like ringing our church piano (a Kawai RX-2) has. The touch was heavier than either our Casio or PT's small Emerson grand.

The Verdict (keeping in mind, of course, that I am a true novice when it comes to any sort of "real" piano, much less fancy-pants models like a Steinway O... basically, I know nothing about what I am talking about):

A beautiful piano, one I'd take in a heartbeat from any willing rich, heir-lacking Uncles. Or Aunts, distant cousins, or strangers on the street. But to be perfectly honest, it sort of left me shrugging my shoulders. I guess I expected to be floored by playing a new Steinway. You know, the sort of experience that melts the hearts of hardened men. This was nothing like that. In fact, to my hands, the progression of key weights, from heavy bass to lighter treble, was not nearly as smooth as I expected. The sustain didn't hold as long as I'd like but this is probably a matter of taste, and could be adjusted.

For what it cost (for those of you scoring at home, that would be around $60k, and Steinway is infamous for their refusal to discount), I expected more. I guess I expected it would have made me a better player, but alas, it'll take more than a fancy piano for that to happen.

- Aw2pp, who is nowhere near as with-it-and-hip as he makes himself out to be… Case in point: his use of “with-it-and-hip” in this tag.

First impression of the Kawai at church...

... T-minus 4 days and counting for the recital. Piano Teacher (PT) suggested, nay, demanded that I find a way, some time, to get on the recital piano, and tinker with it a bit. She warned me it had a light touch, and, as a new piano (well, 5 years new, give or take), it had a very different sound from her old Emerson baby grand. So after church yesterday, after everyone had cleared out, and while Sue and the youngin's were having a coffee and cookie break, I took a moment to introduce myself to the piano.

First impression: meh. I don't know what I expected, but I expected more.

To begin with, overall, I don't find it THAT different from PT's Emerson. (Maybe this speaks well of THAT instrument, come to think of it.) What I mean is, I found the keys sort of spongy, and a little uneven, especially on the left hand. I expected that the keys would have a firm bottom, but it was more a matter of a gradual, soft landing at the end of their travel.

Furthermore, though I felt like I was hammering away on the keys, I couldn't generate nearly enough sound to fill the sanctuary. (For sizing purposes, the sanctuary is roughly the size of a basketball court. Which, not surprisingly, it is, complete with a carpeted floor and lines marking out the court.) I'm tempted to say, "This took a little getting used to," but that would infer I did, indeed, get used to it. I did not. In fact, my first time through, it seemed to me the left hand was totally dominating the right, so I paid a little closer attention to the relative dynamics between the two hands when I went through the piece a second time. I still didn't like it, and by this time, the family had consumed their cookies, returned the sanctuary (bringing NO COOKIES for me... hmph), and were listening to what I was doing. A minute or two later, in came our church's worship / music director, and by this point, I was ready to give Jillian a chance to try it out. (Not really... I wanted to keep playing, but I did not want to experiment in front of an audience, and I was a little concerned about the kids running around on a stage of expensive instruments and electronic gadgetry.)

So the good news: I'm not scraping around today for an extra $30k in sofa change, hoping to go out and by one of these things.

The bad news: I'm not totally comfortable with the piano, 4 days shy of recital. More importantly, I am concerned that what I didn't like about it (spongy, uneven feel) is a feature, rather than a bug. Have I become so used to the lightness and relative perfection of the graduated touch of my Ap-200, that when I sit down at a (from what I understand) perfectly fine acoustic instrument, I can't make the transition? Are the things that I dislike on the Kawai (and PT's Emerson) part and parcel of all acoustic instruments, and good piano players learn to use those characteristics to produce the exact sounds they want?

I suspect the answer to these questions is, "Yes, suck it up, and get used to it."

- Aw2pp, who is still awaiting the followup to Dexy's Midnight Runners 'Come on Eileen'...

An actual piano-related post

I apologize to those of you who are disinterested in the job search updates. I can tell from the lack of emails and comments that this is not quite so interesting for you. We'll resume regular programming once this is all behind us. That said, I have a piano question.

Those who know me know that, when it comes to computers, I am NOT a mouse person. In 7 years of doing documentation, QA, and development for SAP, I never used a mouse. Since joining IBM 3 years ago, I never used a mouse. Strictly a laptop guy, content to use the keyboard whenever and however possible. This past Christmas, I got a wireless keyboard / mouse to use with my laptop. Here we are 6 weeks later, and the mouse no longer works. I will probably replace it*, but in the meantime, I am not perturbed. Reason? I knows my keyboard shortcuts.

* - Partly because sometimes it's nice to have a mouse, and partly because the keyboard rocks, and it would be silly to keep it, but not the mouse.

It took awhile to learn them. Among my favorites? Shift-F3 to toggle between capitalization cases in Microsoft documents.* Try it. Click on (or in) a word, hit Shift-F3 and watch it go from "word" to "WORD" to "Word" to...

* - Funny thing... I didn't actually know the shortcut was Shift-F3... I had to open a Word document, type a word, cycle through the cases, then observe what I did to do that. Which brings me, finally, to my point...

Piano, to me, feels like I am executing keyboard shortcuts. Even things I come to know well... say, Ombre or The Entertainer... it feels like my fingers are executing series of pre-programmed steps. Sometimes, I may need to glance at the music just for a mental cue on which sequence is coming next. For something I have played a lot, like I Due Fiumi, even this isn't (or, until recently, wasn't*) totally necessary. I know each sequence, and I know the sequence of the sequences.

* - The problem now with IDF is that, as I mentioned before, the sequence I had ingrained into myself was not, shall we say, orthodox. And learning a new finger pattern is MUCH harder than I thought it would be. I may as well be learning a new piece, even though the notes are the same.

"So, Aw2pp, what's the problem?" Problem is, it doesn't feel like I am making music. It doesn't feel that different, in fact, from typing on my laptop. It's a choreagraphed finger exercise. Acquiring new music a very time-consuming exercise this way. Increasingly so, as the music (and hence, keyboard sequences) become more varied and complicated.

So my questions: this is natural, isn't it? Is this all part of the process? Is that the point of scales and arps, so that those pre-programmed steps become natural, and when you come across them in music, they aren't unfamiliar? Does any of this make sense?

- Aw2pp, a starting middle blocker for Chicago Coast North, hitting .111 on the year.

Playing boldly

Sawtooth and Monica have already heard this, so y'all go on while I catch everyone else up on the most recent piano lesson I learned.

I'm trying to record a clean take of Ombre. By "clean" I mean relatively error-free. That's all. It doesn't have to be musically expressive... I assume that will come some day. You haven't heard any of my Ombre recordings yet. There's good reason for this. I haven't been able to play it acceptably. As you've heard from my Limbo recordings, I'm not against posting something in a less than totally polished state. So the fact that I've not posted an Ombre recording should suggest to you the problems I am having with it. Lots of problems.

So the other day, I did something I've not done in months. I fired up the iPod, and tried to keep up with a recording. This was a stunning exercise. My observations, as I recall them, in the order they came to me.

1. "His (that is, Einaudi's) tempo is all over the place!"

Ombre starts out with 8 bars' worth of whole notes. I thought I had developed a pretty good feel for the timing of these notes, until I tried to play them in unison with the recording. Surprisingly, I wasn't able to stay with the recording, even when counting. Out loud. Like the beginning music student that I am.

It didn't take long to figure out what was happening. legato ed espressivo. Einaudi had taken liberties with the written notes, and went with whatever tempo his internal metronome suggested. This became more obvious when the music turned to 8th notes, and those were played unevenly. While I had tried to play the 8th notes straight up, he sped up and slowed down between (and even within) measures. As a result, his version (natch) sounds much more expressive, musically, than the robotic, calculated notes I had grown accustomed to playing.

2. "Oh, wow, that's fast."

I looked up Andante in Wikipedia. "Walking pace", it says.

I can dial in a number on the Ap-200's metronome, and matched it to the approximate tempo of Einaudi's recording. I learned that his version of Andante is about 15 beats per minute faster than mine. Whoops. Then when you factor the ebbs and flows in his tempo, it makes it very hard to play along with his recording.

On the other hand, he's the composer, he's the professional pianist, and I am a software technical sales geek trying to teach himself how to play piano. So between the two of us, who's more likely to be doing this correctly?*

* - "But aw2pp", I hear you say, "you're entitled to your own interpretation!" To which I say, "Poppycock!"** Once I am far enough along to actually choose to interpret a piece in multiple ways, I will then evaluate which of those I like best. For now, scrambling furiously just to play the notes (and not quite succeeding even at that) does not qualify as an interpretation.

** - I have a good memory for these things. As far as I can recall, that is the first time I have ever used that word. And almost certainly the last, unless it's to order up some of this. Glad you were here to enjoy this moment with me.

3. "Wow, the dynamic says p (piano signifying quiet), but when he jumps into the right hand, it's more like f (forte, or loud)."

It had never before occurred to me that two hands could be playing at a different volume. It's not that I had thought you couldn't do this... I had just never given the question any thought. In retrospect, how silly of me. Different instruments in an orchestra can play at different volumes. The instrument playing the melody had better rise above the supporting players. Why would this be any different when playing the piano?

Let me stop here and say, this turned out to be a really liberating discovery. Not to steal my own thunder, but the main point I took from this exercise was to play boldly. I had been trying to play this piece quietly, at least at the beginning, but the result was not so much a quiet and peaceful sound, but rather a timid, halting, uncertain one. Playing the right hand with bold certainty is actually much, much easier than trying to keep things quiet and mellow.

But I get ahead of myself.

4. That break around midway through (measures 49-52) make a great time to readjust music sheets.


Nothing Earth-shattering here. But one of my few complaints about the Ap-200 is that the music desk can only accomodate about 3 and a half pages of sheet music at a time. Ombre is 5 pages long. Problem solved. If you ever get to see a Youtube of me playing this, you'll get a kick out of seeing me furiously scramble to get everything set up for the second half, during a time in the music which would otherwise seem quiet and peaceful.

5. Wow, that's loud.

The second half then begins mf (mezzoforte, or "medium-strong"). Einaudi's mezzoforte is my fortissimo. Again, I assume he's right about this.

6. And yet, his way is actually easier.

And this is the big lesson I learned. Even though he played a very different version of Ombre than the one I had been trying (unsuccessfully) to teach myself, I picked up on it very quickly. The third time through, I made it the whole way through, pretty much keeping up with him, with just a few errors. My mind didn't have the luxury of playing (well, plodding) slowly, carefully, and indecisively. Who has time for that at 90-something beats per minute? My hands (especially the left hand) don't have time to measure the next octave / jump. They need to go. NOW! Once I reached that point, it was much, MUCH easier.

And a heck of a lot of fun.

I had one more observation about the interplay of resonances on the loud, booming, sustained low notes at the end. There was a whole new character of sound brought on by playing those like they were supposed to be played. But I need to make more sense of it before I say anything more on it.

Recital recordings are due in two weeks.

Here's a clip, but don't listen to it

Since we've last caught up, I have probably put in about 6 hours of bench time.* During that time, I have tinkered a little with pieces from Alfred's Book One, including The Entertainer. And I have been working on the three Einaudi pieces in my bag of tricks, those being Limbo, Ombre, and Stella del Mattino.

* - For those of you just joining us, that's what I call the time I spent on the piano (bench). Just so we're clear.

Those six hours have basically caught me back up to where I was back in August. I have returned to the point to where I can sort of struggle through Ombre (although I've yet to play it error-free... still having trouble with the LH jumps and octaves near the Big Finish at the end*). I have the first RH phrase of Stella at the "Ok, that's passable, but it will hopefully improve while you work on the rest of the piece" stage. Stella is happy music, which in and of itself is a pretty compelling reason to get it up to speed soon. Which leads me to Limbo.

* - Duh, where else would a Big Finish be?

Limbo, as I am sure you recall, was my first (and so far, only clip). There will be more, I promise, but there just hasn't been much piano playing in the last couple of months. I posted a reasonable take of Limbo, by my standards. It wasn't perfect, and it needed a lot of polishing, but it was a reasonable representation of my level of expertise at the time. After having put in a few hours on the bench, I think I have returned to at least that level. But there's a difference this time... I have this fancy new Ap-200, which I can use to record my practice sessions. And in order to overcome the petrifying tension I feel when that little red LED begins flashing, I have begun to record EVERYTHING. Thankfully deleting is easy, because I delete pretty much everything. But once in awhile, something slips through relatively cleanly. For example, the Limbo clip you hear below. It's not bad. So why do I suggest that you not listen to it? Two reasons, really.

First, there are a total of 6 errors in it, as far as I know. Two of them are obvious flubs / missed notes; these will be obvious to everyone. There are another four errors that you'll have to pay closer attention to catch. And for some of them, you may need to know the music a little. Anyway, reason #1 why you shouldn't listen to this is because it isn't perfect.

But that's weak, I admit. After all, I am a beginning piano player, you'd expect errors from someone as inexperienced as myself. Well, I have shared another, even less polished Limbo clip with some friends and family, and was surprised to find out that the music is... well, it's sad. Believe me when I say, this had never occurred to me until I listened to myself play it. Tears have flowed. I don't mean for it to be sad, but I'll be darned, when I listen to it, that's the feeling. Isn't that strange? I don't feel that way when I play it. If you're already dysthymic (I love mixing that word in from time to time), knock yourself out, give this a listen. It'll speak to you. If you're not... well, I warned you.



I'll do my best to balance this out with some happy music as soon as I can play it.

Things that cost around $4,500

Hailun 125. This would probably the first (new) piano I would try out, if I were in the market.



1,300 shares of AIG.*

* - Which, as recently as this time last year, would have cost you around $100k.

Kawai K-2. Almost certainly the next (new) piano on the list.



Some random Yamaha Clavinova (their line of high-end digital pianos). Yamaha is notoriously opaque when it comes to Clavinova pricing. The cynic in me says this is their attempt to align Clavinovas with the rest of the piano world, which is equally secretive about pricing. I am sure there is one somewhere in the lineup that costs mid $4k.



A new wine cellar. Nothing fancy, of course.

(Bonus points for anyone who can identify the gentleman in that picture. Hint: it's not me.)

A cruise for 2 to St. John's. *

* - I'm guessing here. It's been a few years since Sue and I have made this trip.

"A year's worth of babysitting. So I could run errands." - Thanks, Sue, for the contribution. Way to dream big there.


1.25 acres of grass seed and straw. *




* - It's more than that, of course. There's the two days it took the gentleman and his tractor to clear what had been there before (for many, many years before, in fact). There's the labor for the army of gentlemen who distributed said grass seed and straw throughout our yard. And some odds and ends here and there, to complete the package. For now.


I think we made the right call. In fact, if you look really closely at that last pic, you can see that, as of day five, we already have little spits of grass coming up. And while there are many frivolous yet exciting things in the world, you'd be surprised to find out how happy this makes me.

Chopin needs more Cowbell!

Consider the following list of songs, and ask yourself, "What do they have in common?"

• Rock Lobster (B-52's)
• The Devil Went Down To Georgia (Charlie Daniels Band)
• Halfbreed (Cher)
• Suite Judy Blue Eyes (Crosby, Stills, & Nash)
• Anything by Credence Clearwater Revival, Def Leppard, or Jimmy Buffet
  
• You Spin Me Round (Dead or Alive)
• Mississippi Queen (Mountain)
• Honky Tonk Woman (Rolling Stones)
• Roxanne (The Police)
• Creep (Radiohead)
  
• Gold Dust Woman (Fleetwood Mac)
• Stairway to Heaven (Led Zeppelin)
• Beds Are Burning (Midnight Oil)*
• Late in the Evening (Paul Simon)
• Limelight (Rush)
• Dance to the Music (Sly and the Family Stone)
• Unforgettable Fire (U2)
  
• Oye Como Va (Santana)
  
• Don't Fear the Reaper (Blue Oyster Cult)

* - For a real thrill, next chance you get, try to sing Beds Are Burning while smiling. I defy you on this. It is not possible. You cannot simultaneously smile AND sing this song. You will either laugh (and thereby stop singing) or do as the singer does, and scowl (and thereby stop smiling).

Give up? All songs on this list share two things. First, they are all great songs (YMMV). Second, they all prominently feature the Cowbell. Feel free to add your own. This is, of course, an abbreviated list, one that I culled while scanning the Cowbell Project at Geekspeakweekly.

In the meantime, we turn our attention to the last song on the above list, Don't Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult. This song is the source of the best 6 minutes Saturday Night Live has enjoyed in, say, the last 20 years (again, YMMV). Watch this, in the unlikely event you haven't already seen it.



This skit has been the creative fodder for countless websites. A new one that came to my attention this week is MoreCowbell.dj. The premise is simple. Any piece of music can be improved by adding cowbell. Therefore, MoreCowbell.dj allows you to upload your own music, then add a customizable layer of cowbell on top. Say, for instance, that you think Mountain's version of Mississippi Queen didn't already have enough. Find it in the database (or upload your own version), and dial in an appropriate amount of cowbell. In scanning recent entries, I was surprised to find works by Phillip Glass, Elvis Costello, Thelonius Monk (!) and Smashing Pumpkins.

So I took the natural next step, and uploaded what will probably be the first Chopin piece I ever play, the 20th prelude (Opus 28 number 20, in C Minor). Here is said prelude with 42% Cowbell.

	Make your own at MoreCowbell.dj

Improvement?

Rainiest Day Eveh

Don't know if you heard about this, but we've had some rain the Chicago area lately. In fact, Saturday, it turns out, was the rainiest day in Chicago (recorded) history, as around 7 inches fell at O'Hare. 9 inches closer to us. Thankfully, the new house kept dry while raging torrents evacuated water from the neighborhood. To my untrained eye, whoever designed this neighborhood did very well, from a hydrological perspective.

Papa's house* (you know, the one visited by the funny looking dog with deer ears, a wallaby's rump, and Eeyore's tail) was less fortunate. It, like every other house in the neighborhood, had water in the basement. One day after the downstairs carpet was cleaned. (Insert head banging on wall icon here, as Papa surely would if he had a blog.)

* - Papa = Sue's dad, just in case you hadn't heard that. Of course, Grandma lives there too, but for some reason, it's always been Papa's house.

We spent most of Saturday there, ostensibly to help with the cleanup / dryout. As it turned out, there was little we could do, except watch Papa cleverly engineer a shop vac / hose contraption. This was briefly fascinating, but it wore quickly on both the audience and the performer, who preferred to be left alone. And since all the toys have already moved to the new house, this left few options on the rainiest day eveh... except... (Wait for it...)

Play the piano! (Piano-free posts didn't last long, did they? Did you expect them to?)

Yes, Ole Bessie hasn't made (and won't make ) the move to the new house, but remains firmly, stubbornly, where she's always been, at Papa's house. Jillian and Jason went pretty much straight to her, and picked up right where they left off. They didn't miss beat (sorry about inflicting that one on you, but it was screaming at me). Since, as you'll recall, Jillian promoted Jason from the Schaum Green Book, they began work on the Red Book, which Jillian herself hasn't yet completed. I'd guess, in all, they spent about 90 minutes between the two of them, catching up on lost ground. I was impressed with their progress, but equally impressed, if not moreso, with their interest.

Later in the afternoon, with cupfuls of water continuing to trickle out of the basement, I took my turn. You wouldn't believe it. I didn't. I had actually improved on things I hadn't been practicing, if that makes any sense. I can now do a slow, halting, hands-together version of Stella del Mattino. Go figure. I couldn't even do the RH part of it by itself before. And I did quite a bit of work on the two other Einaudi pieces I'd been working on, Limbo and Ombre. I was so happy with Limbo, I was sorry I didn't post a new clip of it for you. Next chance I get. And with Ombre, I can do those tricky triplet measures correctly about 3 times out of 4. For some reason, the triplets themselves don't bother me; it's the getting back to common time in the next measure that trips me up.

On the way home, I mentioned to Jillian that I had played so much, the backs of my hands were sore. "Wow, daddy, that happened to me, too. Our hands must miss playing piano."

And finally, on that note, an anonymous benefactor (let's call her "Grandma MA") has come forward to play the role of September Santa. More updates on this exciting turn of events as events warrant.

New house news

(As promised to 2ndSoprano, this meandering post contains new house pictures.)

Last Saturday night, we visited our new neighbors. They were having people over for a birthday party for their three year old. Yes, these are the same neighbors from whom we'd been anonymously (I hope) siphoning bandwidth. I was so locked into meeting new people, I missed the opportunity to fess up and request forgiveness for tapping permission to tap into their network.

The Comcast guy was scheduled to come hook us up (literally, and, I guess, figuratively as well), on Monday. Sunday evening, after an unsuccessful attempt to cheaply furnish the new house with undervalued treasures from the Kane County Flea Market, I tried to connect again. The network, which had been unsecured for days, was suddenly encrypted. Yikes! We've been detected! There went our last link to the outside world!

(We didn't even know anything about the Bears beating Indianapolis until the next morning.)

This may seem like nothing, but I feel awful about it. We should have gone straight over on day one and asked for permission to connect to their network when we first found it. Anyway, the Comcast guy showed up as promised, and as of Monday afternoon, we are on our own bandwidth. Most of us thought we were missing TV when we lacked it, but now that we have it, we're not watching so much. Not so with Ro', who has resumed ordering us to play her favorite On Demand shows.


"Daddy, come put on Barney!" Is age 2 too early to teach her how a remote works?

Once we closed on the house last week, there were some loose ends to get taken care of. Things that weren't part of the house as delivered by our builder. Minor items, really, like landscaping*, window treatments, furniture, well water treatment, and downspout extensions.

(For some reason, my snarky sarcastic icon is failing me... imagine, if you will, that it worked, and that I placed it here.)

* - Seriously, the yard is so overgrown, the world's largest kindergartner disappears in the weeds when he goes out back chasing butterflies.





Early on, back in the pencil-to-paper stage of our house design process, I had advocated a prairie style design. We eventually eschewed (love that word) most prairie-style influences, in favor of a less horizontal, less formal, more generalized Craftsman-style house. Of course there is some overlap in these styles, and the preponderance of right angles in the house, inside and out, is a testament to this.


Prairie style in some respects... notice how clearly you can see our property line?

As a consolation prize for giving up a prairie-style design, the house came, instead, with a prairie-style yard. Which now needs to be dug up, and replace with copious amounts of grass seed.


Looking out to the back yard.

This process ain't cheap, and will eventually set us back thousands of dollars. Oh, and same could be said for those other items I mentioned a moment ago. They cost money, too. Mucho dinero. Y ya no tenemos much dinero.

Where am I going with this? Good news and bad news. The good news is that there is a really good place for a piano in the dining room.


Yup, right on that wall.

The bad news is that we've spent our piano money, such as it was, on other quite necessary things. So although I miss piano terribly, and though I think Jill and Jay miss it (we haven't talked about it, actually), and although I was sure I'd be playing Nefeli by now, truth is, it could be quite some time before Jillian, Jason, and I can restart our piano adventure.



Nevertheless, I'll keep coming back here, and urge you to do the same. There's more to life than piano, after all. I do promise to let y'all at the Pianoworld and Einaudi forums know when we turn our attention back to piano-related material.

In the meantime, say hello to Baby Joey, almost six weeks old now.

Jason passed Schaum Book One

Jillian and Jason have been real good sports about this whole moving thing. Consider: they're going to a new school. The pool is closed for the summer. We've pretty much packed away their toys. And they aren't as good at going outside and creating their own mischief as we were. They've been pretty bored, but considering the circumstances, they've done a pretty good job keeping themselves busy and out of trouble.

Jason, in particular, has been spending quite a lot of time on the piano. For those of you just joining us (where've you been, anyway?), Jillian has been teaching Jason everything she knows about piano and music. That's cute enough in and of itself. That they chose this without any prodding from us makes it doubly so. Here are some shots from a recent lesson.





She has assigned him pieces out of her Schaum Green Book, and has given or withheld stickers, as appropriate, depending on how he's progressed on the little songs. Stickers are apparently a fiendishly powerful motivator for 5 and 6 year-olds. Who knew? As we neared the end of the summer, Jillian and Jason reached the end of the book, which meant it came time for a recital and exam.

Jillian wrote her own exam. She took some questions from the Schaum book verbatim; took others and transmogrified them slightly; and simply concocted others right out of thin air. Here is the exam she wrote for Jason.


I'll translate for you.


Write down the answer. If it's right, put a "T". If it's wrong, put an "F".
This means "Right Hand".
This means "Left Hand".
This gets three (beats, I assume).
This gets two.


This is an 8th note.
This means to go 8 keys higher.

He got 5 out of 6, which is passing. Then he played a selection of songs from the book. (I'll post a clip once we get new batteries in Flip.) Jillian then created a certificate, certifying that Jason had passed the course.


Not bad. More than I can say, that's for certain.

Gosh, this seems like he's in a hurry

Clearly, it's a matter of interpretation. But even if I could play this fast, I am not sure I would.




I got about 20 minutes or so to experiment with Stella yesterday. It's a slow start, I must say. I don't expect to be able to sight-read this material, but at this point in my development, getting up and going on the new patterns for each new piece is a slow process. And to be honest, I don't really enjoy it.

Holding pattern

Sorry for the radio silence here at AW2PP. Hopefully you haven't gone and become addicted to some other "I'm learning to play piano" blog. There are lots of quality players in the genre, to be sure.

You may recall that we're building a new house, one big enough for Sue's folks and our family of six. (And no more.) You may also recall that for many moons now, we've been targeting August 22 as our closing date. You may then be unpleasantly surprised to hear that August 22 came and went, and we did not close. Two words: lender approvals. It's apparently a bleak new world out there for underwriters, who are just itching to reject applications these days, even those (like ours!) with enthusiastic pre-approvals. Here's hoping that our new target closing date (this Friday, August 29) does not slip.

In between packing boxes watching Sue pack boxes (she's very good at it, takes pride in her skills, and even, egad, seems to enjoy it), I have been:

• Moving packed boxes to our staging area, formerly known as the garage.
• Making meals.
• Turning on new shows for Rowan, who seems to be developing a hearty love for television. She is particularly fond of the Backyardigans, even though she's nowhere near being able to pronounce "Backyardigans". Which, as is often the case for the just-turned-two-year-old, doesn't stop her from trying. Hey, we understand her.
  
• Watching as much Olympics as I possibly can.
  
• Getting updates from our mortgage broker, and providing requested documentation.
• Sitting down at the bench and getting many short, focused repetitions on Ombre.
  

With Ombre, I am roughly at the same place as I was with Limbo when I snatched and posted that clip about a month ago. Which is to say, while I can make it through the whole thing, I consistently struggle with a couple of passages. One in particular is the second instance of the triplet quarter notes (see measure 69)... I've accidentally gotten that right maybe a couple of times, but that's because I wasn't paying attention. I can't do that triplet correctly on purpose. I've yet to make an entirely clean run through Ombre. And I haven't paid as close attention to dynamic and tempo markings as I should. While I tinker with those items, and continue to polish Limbo, my wandering mind has already moved on to the next piece. But which would that be?

The candidates are Stella del Mattino, Tracce, and I Due Fiumi. The first two are pieces that were recommended by Josh, a professional pianist over at the Einaudi forums. They gently introduce techniques and patterns that are reused in other, more sophisticated Einaudi pieces. I Due Fiumi is a very interesting, albeit lengthy piece that our own sawtooth has worked on, and recommended. I played all three of these on the iPod for Sue, and we talked through them.

Tracce first. We decided it was very serious. And in some ways, reminiscent of the first two Einaudi pieces I have learned. I'll probably learn it some day, but it's time to break things up with something lighter. Fortunately enough, Stella fits the bill there nicely, with light, repeating patterns that supposedly sound harder to play than they really are. And while we liked I Due Fiumi too (perhaps that will be next?), Stella won out with its (her?) light, happy mood, and comparative brevity.

So, as is my custom, have a listen for yourself. Go ahead, it's only 2 and a half minutes.

• Jason's update - His teacher (that would be Jillian) graded his exam and recital.
• A comment on Olympic volleyball
• Closing / moving pictures and updates (let's hope)
• More baby pics
• Costco and Digital Pianos
  

Finally, a clip for you

I got home from work early today, and had the house to myself for an hour or so. Sort of. It was me, the dog, and the cat. But they cooperated.

Although it took me about 30 minutes to get this take, it still has three major stumbles in it. But I am posting it anyway. Lord only knows how long it would take to capture a "perfect" take (whatever that may mean). This clip, errors and all, is a pretty accurate reflection of where I am at the moment. While I'm proud of and encouraged by my progress, there are acres of improvement to be realized. I have to eliminate the stumbles, even out the tempo, get smoother with the LH transitions. Once I'm done with all that, I can move on to the special sauce to really make this music. Things like paying really close attention not just to the dynamic markings, but also the way Einaudi himself uses dynamics in his recordings. I have also noticed that he tends to hold notes here and there for emphasis. I'm a long way from that kind of artistic subtlety.

(Once I get all that ironed out, maybe Monica K. will let me submit an improved version for the pianoworld.com recital. I'd really like to start accumulating those little recital medallions!)




Listening to the clip, I am struck by how out of tune Ole Bessie is. Sorry about that. I'm used to it, but it seems particularly annoying on this recording. On the other hand, it ain't getting any better. At least the soundboard crack is behaving itself these days. Summer seems to be good for it.

I can "play" Limbo

Since Friday, I have probably put in about 8 hours on Limbo. I can now "play" it (more on those quotes later). I put in two clean takes last night, in fact. I'll post a vid this week (assuming Sue doesn't go into labor in the meantime, which is a distinct possibility).

There were two obstacles to overcome. The first was having to play Eb-Bb-Eb on the left hand. Think of the demands here... black keys, left hand, even the requirement to use a thumb. My left thumb, no less. It's like all my piano phobias had a convention or something. Good gravy, I had a hard time with this. The first (and, for me, most difficult) occurrence of this transition is measure 16. It took a very long time to be able to do this without looking. I'm still not fully there yet, in fact, but I can do it now with only a slight hesitation. Getting this progression smooth will be one of the defining milestones to meet before calling this piece "done".

Second obstacle, one which Sawtooth also reported some difficulty with, appears a few measures later. Measures 25 and 26 are the first occurrence of a particularly tricky... arpeggio, is that what I should call it? I had to play this phrase over and over and over and... in fact, on Sunday, I totally had to ChuanChang* these measures. For 20 minutes, all I did was play them over and over again. And I found that after awhile, they got worse! So I shelved them and tried to work on the Eb-Bb-Eb transition I mentioned just a moment ago. Then, yesterday, magically, I had very little trouble with those measures (and their reoccurrences later in measures 29-30, 57-58, 61-62, 89-90, and 93-94...).

* - ChuanChang is a new verb I making up for use in this here blog. It means to quickly and mercilessly hammer a tricky phrase, in a highly repetitive manner. Theory being that there is no sense practicing that 99% of a piece you know really well when there is that 1% giving you fits...

As you know by now, there is a lot of repetition in Limbo. This is a mixed blessing. The good news is that you only need to play maybe two minutes' worth of notes on a five minute piece.* On the other hand, there is great risk that Limbo can sound really boring, mechanical, and repetitive. Playing the notes is one thing. That's where I am right now. Making them into music is an entirely different cup of meat, and that's where I go next. That I can "play" Limbo by no means suggests that I am "done" with it. There are extraneous hesitations to be exorcised. Dynamic markings, oh, mercy, are there ever dynamic markings! Notes to be held, emphasized, just a fraction of a beat longer than others. Grace-notes that you barely hint at, which start the next phrase.

* - Well, in theory, it's a five minute piece. Takes me about six and half right now, but that's just a technicality, right?

This is where the fun starts. This is the sort of thing I was hoping to progress to when I started learning piano back in January. Of course, I am also impetuous, itching to try my hand at the next Einaudi piece. I'm eyeing Fuori Dal Mondo. Give it a listen, tell me what you think.

Getting long looks at my hands these days

Over the last three days, I've probably put about an hour and a half into Limbo. I'm still on the first page, which I can sort of play at half tempo. When I hook up the iPod and play it full speed, it's pretty messy, so I am not doing that quite so much right now.

But one thing I am noticing: I am watching my hands A LOT. I think I know why this is. I am having quite a bit of trouble with the transitions, both RH and LH. The movements are new and unfamiliar. I anticipate that this too shall pass.

The key to my learning this piece, I think, is to learn the RH so well that goes on auto-pilot. I have heard 4 or 5 different people's versions of Limbo by now, as well as two different versions from Einaudi himself. From what I can gather, the LH is the one that provides the depth and expression. Sure, it's just playing chords, but those chords (and their subtle changes) are what give depth to the RH arpeggios. So while I still need to get comfortable making LH transitions (heck, I'm still testing out different fingerings), I am going to be drilling those RH arpeggios over, and over again.

Using my iPod as a learning tool

My iPod was missing. In fact, it had been three months since I'd seen it. I missed it horribly, like a lost dog. I had come to accept never seeing it again, and even began shopping for a replacement. But I couldn't pull the trigger; I was horrified to learn how expensive new iPods are. Apple keeps improving them, and charging more and more for the improvements (go figure).

So imagine my delirious relief when, in the midst of looking for some nail clippers in my bag the other day, I found it, folded neatly in a folded, laminated 3" x 5" pamphlet of the Think Client Value Questioning Model. Clearly, I am not referring to this pamphlet often enough.

It was jarring to see what was on the iPod. "Dancing Queen? Funkytown? Who put those on there?"* Equally jarring was what was absent. Nothing from The Killers, The Nationals, Death Cab for Cutie, or Airborne Toxic Event? Had I not even heard of these groups when I lost the iPod? Has it been THAT long? It seems like I'd been listening to some of that stuff for months, but evidently not. So I spent an hour or so flushing old stuff, and added the new. And it was at this point that my iPod became my newest piano-learning tool.

* - Sue reminds me that I put these on there myself. Our children requested them. I originally left this detail out, as I didn't want to throw them under the bus like that.

I added Limbo.

Hear it for yourself (not my performance, mind you, but the composer himself, live, in concert):




I spent a couple hours yesterday introducing myself to page one (of four) of Limbo. I marked it up with all sorts of remarks and warnings to myself, and translated some of those off-the-scale notes into a letter I could recognize. (Wish I was better at this.) At the risk of sounding simple and naive, it was a true thrill when I played the first chords. My mind said something along the lines of, "Holy cow, that sounds like Einaudi music, only it's coming from Ole Bessie, not the kids' CD player!" *

* - For a couple of months now, Jillian, Jason, and Rowan have been falling asleep to an Einaudi CD I made for them. Subliminally, I am creating either great affinity for, or violent aversion to, modern piano music. Not sure which it is, but they seem to like it so far.

What I was doing was this. I listened to a phrase, played it by myself (many, many times, with lots of repetitions), then listened to it again, trying to accompany the track at tempo. I was basically unsuccessful at this, hitting just a fraction of the real notes, but that's ok, since the recording did a good job of hitting the ones I was missing. This approach has the added benefit of confusing those within earshot. "Wow, is that you playing that?" I'd be interested in knowing if any of you have used this approach when learning new pieces.

Limbo itself, as many of you have told me, does not seem to be that difficult. Just a handful of LH chords (I count six, give or take one or two), with the RH doing arpeggios on those chords. I am sure a seasoned piano player could get through it in an hour or two. For me, the transitions between notes are new and unnatural. I am going to have to actually learn / memorize them, and I could see it taking a month or so, depending on how much practice time I put in. That should be just about when we move into the new house (did I mention... I did, right?) It's also a new key for me, the key of Whatever-It-Is-That-Uses-Three-Flats. If I ever get a piano teacher, we're going to have some elementary music theory to rehash, that's for sure. And while I see why Sawtooth regards Limbo as exercise, unlike traditional exercises (scales, arpeggios, Hanons), I thoroughly enjoyed my first pass at it. Can't wait to work on it some more.

But there's more. This is going to be very difficult for me to explain, partly because I lack the words to describe it, and partly because I don't totally understand it myself. But here goes.

Even after two hours, I can already see that this music isn't composed of notes to be played, per se, but patterns to be realized, tweaked, and revisited. Sure, the patterns are made of notes, but the notes aren't what it's all about, any more than bricks and stones are what our new house is all about. The music feels like it is composed of shapes, and the shapes have variations. Limbo takes these shapes, gives them different colors, adds a new edge / vertex, then maybe examines the new (but nevertheless recognizable) shape from a different angle. At the end, you return to the original perspective, and look at the shapes you started with, but you see them differently, based on where the music took you to that point. When I come to understand the shapes, I'll have a better sense for the variations, and I'll be able to play the music, rather than just the notes. I like my chances.

I'll spare you the customary, polite "Does that make sense?" because I presuppose that it does not. It doesn't really to me, either. I'll understand if you roll your eyes, and conclude "Oh, heaven help us, AWTPP has gone all psychedelic on us, I hope he gets help soon." My feelings won't be hurt. But FWIW, that last paragraph is an accurate reflection of what it feels like to try to play Limbo, and to listen to it after having tried to play it. Maybe all music (or all good music) is that way, and I just haven't realized it yet. But with Limbo, this is now really obvious to me.