Anatomy of a Recital, Part…Oh I don’t know anymore

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Recital

I’m going to finish this up lickety-split. After all, my recital was 2 months ago. But I just wanted to get a few things out there for people (yes, my mom) who wanted to read or who are having to generate program notes.

First off – I’m not a music historian. I have an extensive background in music history because I’m old, curious and have taken lots of classes but it’s not my area of expertise. By a long shot.

Secondly, I’m not a great writer. I used to love writing in high school, especially journal entries for my pre-university english class, but it’s been a while and I’m still finding my voice. And even though I’m a really fast reader, I’m a really slow writer. Like, glacially slow. I analyze every word and sentence and still end up making lots of typos.

Thirdly, I took all my own pictures. Or rather, I framed them out and then my husband hold the camera and press the button. I just ordered a remote control for my camera so I’m going to try some self-portraits in the coming weeks and months. As I wade through this photo stuff, I’ve come to the realization that I need really good head shots and I’d like to do it myself (DIM…haha).

Fourth – These program notes are probably not what you’d read at a professional chamber music concert/solo recital. Not that I’m not a professional but I also had to recognize that they were for an academic setting. So there is some language that I would never use if I were doing this outside the ivory tower.

Fifth – despite all of the above, I’m hoping that I still sound like me. And that even for a recital in an academic setting, that they still look pretty good (I used a template in Pages, if anyone is wondering).

So here they are:

DMA Solo Recital Programme Notes

Take a look, or a read, if you’d rather. I’d welcome comments about my writing as it’s something I’m trying to improve before I get to the meat of my dissertation in the coming year.

Related articles

• Anatomy of a Recital, Part 4 (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)
• Anatomy of a Recital, Part 3 (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)
• Anatomy of a Recital, Part 2 (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)

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Anatomy of a Recital, Part 4

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Money, Recital

Recitals are not cheap. Especially when you’re not getting paid to do them.

On the other hand, how many people on the planet actually get paid to do a horn recital? Outside of a university setting? Maybe a handful. Maybe less than that.

So I thought it might be good for me and general populace (read: my school, financial aid people or anybody else getting ready to do this) to actually look at the cost breakdown, line by painful line.

Pianist – $250 (The ever-fabulous Michael Dauphinais. This included all of the rehearsal time and the actual recital.)

Venue – $125 (I chose an outside venue, but the is what is would have cost me to use one of the halls at the school of music.)

Dress – $91 (on sale from $300!)

Posters – $3.50

Programs – $11.50 (I made colour ones for my committee, my school portfolio and my own personal file; the rest were black and white.)

Gas – $40 (There were two occasions that I had to come up to school from where I live that weren’t my normal school days.)

Babysitter – $30

In ‘n’ Out Burger – $10 (I didn’t eat a lot before so I was pretty ravenous afterwards.)

TOTAL: $561

Holy cow! This is in addition to tuition and fees. In this economy.

Where could I have saved money? I could have done an entire recital without accompaniment. And it would have been depressing, awful, somewhat boring and really tiring. I also could have used a classroom at school instead of a hall or the church that I ended up using and that would have been free. And depressing, unprofessional and clinical. I could have skipped the posters. I could have gotten my husband to stay home with the little people instead having his presence and support. The programs are a part of my requirement (although not an official one, I might add) but I could have skipped the colour versions.

So now that I’m thoroughly depressed, let’s look on the bright side. This could have been a whole lot more expensive.  So, where did I save money? By having a fabulous pianist who was prepared and professional, as well as being someone that I musical “gel” with, I saved myself some rehearsal time. The dress, kind of. I wasn’t originally looking for a dress so I did overspend my shirt budget of about $50, but it was WORTH EVERY PENNY. So compared to the original price of the dress, yes I saved. I’m going to go with that. Other saving? My posters and the photography for them and my program. I wasn’t going to do any of it and then I got persuaded that it would a god idea. I took (or set up up) my own pictures and did my own editing. I had a sweet friend print my posters out for me at the Honors’ College on campus (it’s only for undergrads, but she bent the rules for me a bit) and it was only $0.25 for each colour page. I also borrowed a digital recording device from a friend, so I didn’t pay anyone to record the recital, which can get spendy, depending on who does it.

I think I was as “thrifty” as I could have been, with maybe one exception. But honestly, being thrifty wasn’t the point of the exercise. I’d anticipated the costs last spring and set aside some of my gig money for it. But it’s still a little ouchy, all things considered.

UPDATE: I forgot about the $100 worth of music that I bought for the occasion. That brings my total to $661. Zoinks.

Related articles

• Anatomy of a Recital, Part 1 (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)
• Anatomy of a Recital, Part 2 (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)
• Anatomy of a Recital, Part 3 (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)
• Recital Programme (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)

Anatomy of a Recital, Part 3

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Horn, Recital

A lot of people ask any professional musician or teacher how much they should be practicing. The answer? It varies.

This recital was different from the first solo recital I presented last December (less than a year ago – zoinks!). Not just in the content, but in the preparation. I picked my pieces last May and early June. And then I didn’t practice them. Not ever, just for a while.  I just wasn’t in the head space to do it. I was a little (ok a lot) burnt out from the previous semester/season and I just wanted to be home and play with my little people and have folded laundry again.

I’d also sent my horn back to its maker, ostensibly to have the bell cut, but in reality, he basically rebuilt the thing. In the meantime, I played around on a borrowed Kruspe, didn’t spend a lot of time commuting anywhere, built a bookcase and immersed myself in Charlotte’s Web and play dough. Oh, and started this blog.

So it was more like July, maybe even mid-July before I started what I would call actual recital preparation. Around the same time, I started doing some different technical routines and I was also taking a goal-setting course for musicians. So, basically a new horn, a new method of practicing and now new repertoire. It didn’t really occur to me until now, but that’s a lot to mess with just before something like this.

How much time I spent is a really good question. Because I wasn’t keeping track and I have no idea. I do know that I fell into a routine of technique in the morning with pieces and etudes in the afternoon. What I didn’t do this time around is an evening session, until a few weeks before the recital. I probably should have. But I was in a pretty good head space about things, mainly because I found myself day-dreaming about my pieces, pretty much all the time. Being a little older (and possibly wiser?) I physically can’t spend 6 hours with the horn on my face to fix problems. It’s inefficient, physically silly and with the little people running around, I don’t have that kind of time.

The two weeks before the recital was where I really worked my endurance. Endurance prep for me is running the whole program, warts and all, with no breaks, not even for the bathroom. Some people do a version of this where they don’t take the horn off their face, even for a second, but I’m not that extreme. I just tried to create situations that could only be worse than any possible worst-case scenario for the recital. I figured that if I’d already practiced in the morning for 90 minutes, had a lesson and a 45 minute rehearsal in the afternoon and then run my program in the evening without any breaks that it was far worse than what I’d likely do on the day of the recital. Despite all that, I was still in doubt mode in the hours before I played the recital. Would my face give out? What if I didn’t use enough support? Will my legs hold me while I play for that long? At some point, I had to let that all go and just walk on stage.

There was also the non-musical preparation that people in the audience didn’t see. I was back at the gym for the first time in a year, doing cardio to better my lung capacity and lower my heart rate. I’d been doing some goal-setting for the recital and before each practice session. I’d done some visualizing of myself playing the space. The afternoon of the recital, I wrote out a list of affirmations about who I am and my playing and tucked it into my case before I left for the venue. And the sessions with my pianist were so helpful for me to make my musical intentions clearer and brighter.

All this, because time marches on. The countdown was over.

Related articles

• Anatomy of a Recital, Part 1 (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)
• Anatomy of a Recital, Part 2 (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)
• Recital Programme (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)

Anatomy of a Recital, Part 2

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Music, Recital

 

Doing this in chronological order would be too easy. So I won’t.

I started thinking about this recital a while ago. In fact, I started thinking about it shortly after my last recital, a chamber music extravaganza, last April. To some people, that might seem like a lot of time to plan a recital. It’s really not. When I was doing piano stuff in high school, at the very end of my study, it was taking me months and months just to learn a piece. I think it took me almost a year to learn a complete Beethoven Sonata. So four months is pretty snappy.

This first thing I did was to secure my pianist, Michael Dauphinais. He’s ostensibly on faculty at my school, but he really isn’t utilized the way he should be. Why Michael? Because he’s easy to work with, professional, and a lovely, musical pianist. He played for me for my first doctoral recital and it was such a joy to work with him.

The second thing I did was try to find a date that worked for me, my committee of three, Michael and the school at three different halls in two venues. At previous institutions that I’ve attended, there was always a designated period for degree recitals and the faculty gave their availability to scheduling people. So I just go down to the scheduling people and I could pick from there (or, in the case of McGill, they told me when my recital was and that was that). But not here. Sigh. So I did a doodle poll with a bunch of times and places and between the bunch of us, we found a single date (out of about 10, whittled down to 4) which I then immediately booked with my committee, Michael and the venue.

Doodle is both annoying and awesome. Awesome, because you can ask a bunch of people about scheduling. Annoying, because people don’t get back to you all at once and you keep getting an email every time someone finally gets back to you. Kind of like Chinese water torture. And there’s almost always a lone holdout. But I digress.

Since I decided to use an off campus venue, I actually forgot to tell the school until the end of August. Oops. There was a form that everyone on my committee had to sign that approved the music I chose and the date and venue (again) and there was another card that just my supervising professor had to sign so that the school would even know the recital was happening. That was the one I forgot. It’s due 30 days before the recital. I think it waltzed in about 21 days before. They knew about the recital but this was just one of those crossing the “t’s” moments that I’m not always good at/don’t care to remember.

I also had to book the recital venue and I ended up choosing something off campus. Why? The two halls that are available at school don’t have great acoustics – one is too boomy and the other swallows you up (or me at least). The real kicker is that you have to pay for them and it’s not a minimal $25 fee or something. I’ve just gotta say – I really disagree with this. I have to present 4 recitals because of my degree. I have already paid fees and tuition because of my degree (ok, I’ve got scholarships, but there are always some little things that add up). I’m already charged an extra fee for lessons because of my degree. One would think they’d let you use the hall in the school that you’ve paid tuition and a pint of blood to attend for the recitals that you need to present BECAUSE OF THE DEGREE.

Anyhow, I chose an Episcopalian church used to having chamber music concerts and recitals. It’s fairly close to campus. They’ve got a nice Baldwin grand in there (never thought I’d say that about a Baldwin, but there’s a first time for everything) and the staff at Grace-St. Paul’s was lovely to work with.

Not too much visual clutter and the only thing I really needed to think about was where I was going to stand. I did my first recital for my DMA here, so it was almost comforting. That help, the comforting bit, when you’re under stress. I’d imagine these things get worse when you don’t know what you’re walking into. You control what you can and this was something over which I had a say. And there’s a built-in fence there in case anybody in the audience gets rowdy and rushes the stage.

Hey. It could happen!

Related articles

• Anatomy of a Recital, Part 1 (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)
• Recital Programme (lifecomposing.wordpress.com)

 

Anatomy of a Recital, Part 1

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Horn, Recital

I’ve been MIA for a bit. Not only has school been crazy but I presented a recital as part of my degree requirements. I’ve got four of those suckers, total, and this was the third one.

Also, recital was designated a solo recital. No chamber music. No collaborations, other than with my fabulous pianist. Me, standing up, not sitting, for 55 minutes worth of music. Knocking knees and all.

So I thought I’d write a bit about some of the various components of last Monday, starting with the most important part.

The dress.

Awesome, no?

And it was a last-minute dealie, too. I was hunting Marshall’s for a flashy top of some sort to pair with black suit pants and flats – nothing terribly interesting, but it works for me. I found nothing. Nothing hit that balance of a little bit of flash, flexibility for breathing, formality and not too much flesh. Horn players in recital shouldn’t be flashing too much cleavage. Or maybe that’s my old-fashioned upbringing talking.

So I decided to check out Dillard’s, a place I’ve never been. It kind of reminded of The Bay, maybe a little bit of the long-gone Eaton’s. But a little less focused and definitely not Canadian. I searched the whole stinking place and the  I spotted this. Keep in mind, I wasn’t looking for a dress, I was looking for a shirt. A top. Something that stops somewhere around my hips, possibly an inch of two lower. Not a FULL-LENGTH, FORMAL EVENING GOWN.

But I found it. And it was perfect. And it was on SALE! I thought it was too good to be true. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable, could it? It was. I couldn’t breathe in it, could I? I could. Did I look awesome? I DID.

There were two great things about this dress: ruching and a knit lining are apparently every horn girl’s best friend. A close third? The length. I wore flat, not so pretty sandals hat nobody could see (or hear – they were stealth shoes) and it felt like I was playing barefoot. Bonus.

All this add up to one thing: I looked good and felt great. I didn’t feel restricted but I did feel special. And did I mention it was on SALE?

 

Recital Programme

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Recital

With apologies to Fancy Nancy, “Programme” just looks fancier than plain old “program”.

In a scant three and a half weeks, I’ll be presenting a solo recital as a partial fulfillment of my degree requirements for my doctorate. This will be number 3 of 4. The first one was called a “Qualifying” recital. Why? I’ve got no idea. At that point, I’d been admitted and taken a goodly portion of classwork.

The second one was an all chamber music dealie. And basically a pain in the arse to put together. Not only that, but I caught a virulent version of the Norwalk virus and was puking my guts out less than 36 hours before the recital was to take place. I should have cancelled, but I would have had to go through reorganizing the whole thing to do again at a later date. Have learned my lesson on that bargain with the devil. Basically, I was screwed if I cancelled and screwed if I didn’t. Winning.

My headshot from the posters of ill-fated chamber music recital.

So, I’m hoping for health, a lack of reverse peristalsis and the stars to align.

Here’s my recital programme:

Volker David Kirchner – Tré Poemi

Johann Sebastian Bach – Cello Suite No. 5 (Courante and Sarabande)

Franz Strauss – Nocturno, Op.7

Intermission

Denis Gougeon – Cor-Jupitre from Six thèmes solaires

Keith Bissell – Under the Apple Boughs

Jane Vignery – Sonata, Op. 7

I’m thinking of changing up the order, so that isn’t set 100% yet. Would love to know what other people or their students might be playing in recital in the near future. Any takers? This is definitely more contemporary than my Qualifying recital and has double the Canadian content. Hurrah.