music | Change Is Hard

February 25, 2015
by dawnkinster 15 Comments

Weekend concert

Most of you know that I play in a local community band. Each year in February we attend a community band festival in a town about an hour away. Community bands come from all over to perform for 3 adjudicators who give us feedback on our work. For those of you that have been in a high school band, it’s like going to band festival. Without the sight reading part thank goodness! It’s exciting and fun and stressful all rolled into one music filled day.

And this Saturday is the day. We’ve been working really hard on the UFO Concerto by Johan de Meij. The piece is in 5 movements and we’re doing the first two. You can listen to some of it here. The first movement runs, on this particular recording, from 00.0 until 5 minutes and 9 seconds. It’s really beautiful. But what I really want you to hear is the second movement…starting at 5 minutes and 9 seconds and going until 10 minutes and 49 seconds. It’s crazy and it’s taken awhile to grow on me. But I found myself humming this at work on Tuesday.

Believe it or not.

What makes this Saturday even more stressful, other than this being a very difficult piece to play, is that the composer is one of the adjudicators! And to top it all off, he’s the one that will be meeting with us after our performance to give us his perspective on how well we played. Yes indeed. I have never played anything knowing the composer was in the audience, much less knowing he’s going to critique us after!

So what I need from you guys is a whole lot of strong good luck, musical vibes headed over to Okemos Michigan at 9:00 a.m. this Saturday. We’ve worked hard, but a little extra luck can’t hurt!

I’ll let you know how it goes.

January 29, 2015
by dawnkinster 22 Comments

You know you’re getting old when….

Most of the time I forget I’m almost finished with my 5th decade of life. I think I’m maybe thirty-something. Forty-five at the most. Then along comes some episode and I realize how old I really am, and particularly how much older than most of the people I work with, play music with, hang out with, go to dog events with.

Etc.

So let me share with you a couple of stories that made me realize I’m no spring chicken anymore. These are just little stories, nothing major, no epic drama.

Still…

It’s cold here in Michigan. Sometimes it’s really cold. We had a couple of weeks earlier this month when the wind was howling and the temps were in single digits. When the walk from office to the car in the evenings was excruciating. I happen to sit by a window up on the fourth floor, looking out over the parking lot and most of the winter people stop by to use my window and their remote starts to get their cars warmed up before they head out into the storm. For most of this winter, and last winter too for that matter, it never occurred to me that my key fob also had a remote start. That I too could have a warm car with ice melting on the windshield by the time I stumbled through the dark and wind to my vehicle.

Last week I paid attention, wrote myself a note which I placed near my keys (“start car”) and actually remembered to use the remote start thingy before getting dressed in hat, coat, scarf, boots, and gloves to head for home. I couldn’t actually see my entire car from my office window, it was parked behind a big van, but I could see the front lights, and they blinked so I figured I was good to go.

Just before I headed for the stairs, now dressed like an Eskimo, I happened to glance outside. Looking at my car I became confused. What was that at the back? Why…it’s the hatch, fully open! And why weren’t the lights still on? And no exhaust coming out of the back? Surely I hadn’t….why yes I had. Instead of pushing the start engine button on my key fob I had pushed the open hatch button. Because they look so much alike, don’t you know.

So not only was my car not warm…it was colder than it had been before. I quietly pushed the ‘open hatch’ button again, watched as it closed and then meekly crept down the 4 flights of stairs and out to my car where I shivered as I drove home. I didn’t tell anyone for a long time. Now I’m sharing with you.

Stop laughing.

Some of you know I’m the librarian for the community band that I’m in. That means that the beginning of most rehearsals is hectic for me as people that have missed previous practices need music. I’m always running around looking for music and making copies. Often they start rehearsing while I’m still off doing something else.

So this week was no exception. I’d put my clarinet together and started to warm up when someone needed something, and then someone else needed something. Before long I’m running around and they’re playing already. Finished with my tasks I rush to sit down in my seat, sharing a stand with the highschool girl next to me who I already know thinks I’m about 95 years old. She looks at me out of the corner of her eye and keeps playing. I suddenly realize I am not carrying my clarinet and I don’t know where I set it down. I scan the room, locate it on a table, go get it and sit back down again, reaching for the top of my head where I keep my glasses when I’m not reading.

They aren’t there.

I don’t remember taking them off while I was running copies, but they could be anywhere. Or maybe I never had them, they could be in the car. I know I can’t read the music without them, but I figure I’ll do the best I can. I push my chair back a bit to be further from the music stand and think “I can see pretty good tonight, maybe I don’t need those glasses anyway,” and I start to play.

The teenager next to me is still watching me out of the corner of her eye.

Sometime in the first piece of music my ear itches and I reach up to scratch it and realize that I’m wearing my glasses. And obviously have been. Which is why my eyes were seeing pretty good. I’ve heard stories about people losing their glasses while they were on top of their heads. But I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of anyone losing their glasses while they were wearing them.

And now you have.

Really.

Stop laughing.

January 18, 2015
by dawnkinster 5 Comments

The value of music

Rose Bowl parade, taken from TV.

I was at our little post office one Saturday during the holidays mailing something or other and the woman behind the counter and I started the normal small talk about the weather, which wasn’t particularly good that day, wind and snow, typical winter in Michigan. She said she was worried because she had just put her son on a bus headed to the Sugar Bowl. He’s in the local marching band and they had been invited to perform at halftime along with several other high school bands. She was apprehensive about the trip but so very proud of him.

And there we were, suddenly talking about the benefits of growing up in a high school band. The camaraderie, the discipline, the skills learned, the making of lifelong friends. Sure music has value all of its own. But the real value for kids growing up in a small rural town is that music, any kind of music, gives kids a chance to see something larger, to make something bigger than themselves. To be involved in something beautiful.

I was thinking about that post office clerk last night as I sat high in the balcony of Hill Auditorium on the campus of the University of Michigan enjoying the university’s Collage concert. It’s put on by the School of Music, Theatre & Dance and is filled with snippets of everything from full band and orchestra pieces, to soloists, to dancers, to Shakespeare. It’s filled with choirs and ensembles, duets and quartets, unusual music and the classics.

Phone camera in bad light. But you get the idea.

One after another, without pause in between, the spotlight shifts from stage left to stage right, stopping in the center, bouncing off to the left again. Each new act spotlighted a new glowing talent and though the audience was supposed to refrain from applause until the end of each half often it erupted spontaneously.

We just couldn’t help it.

In particular I enjoyed the Men’s Glee Club. As they filed onto the risers behind the band I noted how sharp they looked in their black tuxes, crisp white shirts, grins on their faces. There were almost a hundred of them and they sounded wonderful. I thought about what kind of impression this experience was having on them. How being able to dress up in a tux with tails and have people applaud you wasn’t something most little boys ever imagine doing. And now here they were experiencing this concert and many others in their school musical careers. I wondered how many of them would keep singing into adulthood. I bet most do.

In fact all evening as I watched and listened I couldn’t help marveling at the abundance of talent filling that stage. And realizing that across this country and the world there’s an abundance of talent filling stages everywhere. And that made me feel better about the state of the world. Sure these past few weeks have been filled with bad news, scary news, often unimaginable news. But things can’t be all bad when several hundred kids spend their Saturday night making us (and themselves) feel wonderful. In fact the world is a pretty special place when artists share their talent, when they make such beautiful memories for themselves and their families and complete strangers.

And that, in a nutshell, is the value of music. It makes us feel good. Those of us sitting in the audience love it. But those sitting on the stage producing it reap the most valuable benefits of all. It’s the underpinning of their lives, it’s what makes them who they are and it’s what they will build the rest of their lives on. Music. In the end you can’t measure the value in dollars, can never know it’s exact worth.

But last night, for those kids and their families, I’d have to say it was priceless.

TV Rose Bowl Parade.

October 29, 2014
by dawnkinster 7 Comments

How music heals

I heard a piece on news radio during my commute to work Tuesday morning about how upbeat music helps sad people feel better and calm music helps settle people who are stressed; how music can be used in any number of problem situations to make things better. True I thought.

True.

And I hoped at that evening’s concert we would be able to deliver a bit of fun, maybe even a bit of relaxation to our audience. We’d be playing Halloween music, things like March of the Trolls by Grieg, Shadow Rituals by Markowski, and The Fortune Tellers Daughter by Gorham. Mostly fun stuff, mostly things we could play if we paid attention, though Shadow Rituals was a toss up. We’d made it through that piece, from start to finish, for the first time at last week’s rehearsal. There were no guarantees we could do it again. On the other hand, as people who listened to it played by professionals have said, “Who would really know if you made a mistake?”

Good point.

We were all dressed in costumes for the concert, a bit of freedom from the normal black concert attire. Lots of people went all out and were unrecognizable; a purple telatubby, a vampire, the tallest leprechaun trombone player I’ve ever seen. (The photos here are from last year, I forgot to take a camera this year!) I just added a big tie and a clown hat to my normal workaday outfit. I figured some of my customers take us for underwriting clowns anyway so it was fitting.

I’d started the morning with a headache, a bit of a sore throat, and a sense of being light headed. By afternoon my eyes were itching and I couldn’t stop sneezing. “Great,” I thought. Just what I need. All I wanted to do after work was drive home and climb into bed. Then I got to the concert venue. Sniffles disappeared, eyes cleared up. Headache? Gone.

And that was even before we began to play.

I think the audience had fun. We got a standing ovation from most of the audience when we finished. Maybe they were just glad we were done. Or maybe they’re our relatives. Or both. But I think they had fun. But not as much fun as we had playing. I’ve always said, and I’ll say it again, it’s much more fun to be the one playing then the one listening. Even when listening is pretty darn good.

Our sound engineer forgot to turn on the recording equipment until after the third piece, so we played the first three over again at the end of the concert. Most people stayed to hear them again, and turns out we played them better the second time. We had a blast doing it. Tuesday night the news piece on the radio proved to be true. Music is what’s good for you.

And for me.

April 14, 2014
by dawnkinster 19 Comments

Brahms and magic

Saturday evening + the Michigan Theater + the Ann Arbor Symphony = magic. Guaranteed. And even though I knew that going in I was still blown away from the start of this concert until the last thundering applause faded after the encore.

I’m no classical music scholar, I never took a theory class, didn’t play beyond high school until I reconnected through the community band, but I know when I’ve experienced something extraordinary. That happens every time I hear the Ann Arbor Symphony, but this weekend was beyond any expectations I could have had.

Saturday night it was all about Brahms, starting with Academic Festival composed by Brahms in response to being nominated for an honorary doctorate degree. The piece includes several student drinking songs, woven through the music. Who knew that composers back in the mid 1800’s had a sense of humor?

The second piece was The Black Swan: Intermezzo in A Major. What a stunningly beautiful piece of music. Transcripted for orchestra by Bright Sheng, a University of Michigan professor, the piece is based on Brahms’ composition for piano. It’s so beautiful you just have to listen to at least a little of it. Lush, contemplative, you can’t help but let the cares of the week slide off your shoulders as you let the music wash over you.

The last piece before intermission was Concerto for Violin, Cello and Orchestra in A Minor, played by two amazing young musicians, Itamar Zorman on violin and David Requiro on cello. They played seamlessly, often one began the phrase and the other completed it, almost as if there was a single instrument. Such talent. They so obviously loved doing this piece, and we loved hearing it. Mr. Requiro said it was an ‘indulgent’ thing to play because the first movement begins after only a few measures with a beautiful cello solo. My favorite movement, though, was the third. Listen to a little bit of it; how playful it is. I had a stupid grin on my face through the whole thing.

And as wonderful as all that was, after intermission I fell in love with Symphony No. 1 in C Minor. Though they say Brahms was a bit intimidated by Beethoven you can hear him pay homage to the other composer in this piece. It’s beautiful, from the suspenseful beginning to the triumphant conclusion. And the Ann Arbor Symphony pulled every bit of beauty out of the music. They left nothing in reserve, put it all out there on the concert stage. The audience didn’t even wait for the last note to drift away, the applause started immediately and continued until we convinced them to play us one last encore.

Ann Arbor, you have a gem in your symphony. Every concert is astounding and leaves us shaking our heads in amazement. Even if you don’t think you like or understand this kind of music take a moment and listen to a little bit through the links above. And if that intrigues you go to one concert of your symphony next season, try a little taste, open yourself up to the possibilities. You’ll have an experience you won’t forget. It’s so much more wonderful live and your symphony is..well…there’s no other word…just magical. Attend a concert next fall, let the music take you away, overwhelm you, transform your soul if only for one evening. Go listen to the Ann Arbor Symphony and experience the magic yourself.

You won’t regret it – I promise.

April 1, 2014
by dawnkinster 20 Comments

Pick a note

Most of you know I play in a community band. We practice on Tuesday nights. Tonight I was feeling guilty for not practicing during the week, and tired from a crazy day at work. I was thinking that maybe this one time it would be OK not to go to band. But I had music my husband had pulled from the music library that the director had requested, and I couldn’t just drop that off and run. So I stayed.

And I have to say, this evening, like every Tuesday night, I was glad I stayed to play. I let the music pick up my spirits, enjoyed the challenge of getting a little bit better at the parts I should have practiced, heard new rhythms and underlying phrases of other sections, figured out how some of it went together. I always leave rehearsal feeling better than I did going in and there’s something worthwhile in that alone.

I’m so lucky to have this outlet, a place to let the rest of the world go and just have fun; I don’t think most adults can say they have something similar. Certainly as we get older we get fewer opportunities to do something that other people actually applaud for. Music does that for me and don’t think for a minute I don’t appreciate it. Even when our audience is small I appreciate the fact they come out and clap enthusiastically. It makes those of us playing feel young again, makes us smile, makes us glad we could share the fun we get to enjoy every Tuesday night.

Tonight she handed out a new piece of music, something unique, with sounds not classical or jazz or rag. It is called “Africa: Ceremony, Song and Ritual” composed by Robert W Smith. You can listen to it here. It’s almost 9 minutes but worth the time.

At about 46 seconds in you’ll hear a weird sound, hard to describe, sort of like a metal whistle but not. Our tympani player is a high school student, and this instrument was in his part but he didn’t know what it was. The director found it for him, and he asked how to play it. It’s a metal rectangle with a piece sticking up and a wire of some sort. I can’t say I got a good look at it. She told him how to play it, he tried it out and then he grinned from ear to ear the whole rest of the piece. It was so neat to see a high school student enthralled with learning something new. I talked to him about it at the break, as he was practicing different effects out in the hall. He said it was dangerous, you could get your finger caught in it. I said it was dangerous because if it got played at the wrong moment everyone would know. He started laughing and said that was true about everything he played. Good point.

But the part in my music that made me stop, almost made me laugh out loud in the middle of rehearsal was this. Do you see it? At measure 180?

It says ‘pick a note.’ This is what went through my mind the first time we got to this measure: “Pick a note? What note? Should it be in the key we’re in? Probably not, probably it should be something weird, totally out of character. What would that be?”

It took me so long to analyze those three words that I missed playing anything at all during the two measures. As did most of the band. We all sort of petered out as our minds tried to comprehend that we could choose any note we wanted. For two whole measures we were free, and what we ended up doing was nothing much at all. I’m sure by next week we will have all chosen our note and the sound will be…well…interesting. On the recording these two measures start at 8 minutes and 37 seconds. You can decide for yourselves how strange and/or cool it sounds.

See? This is the kind of fun we have on Tuesday nights. We get to do different things, interact with different people. I wish everyone could do something just for themselves once a week. The world would be a better place.

Indulge yourselves. Find your passion. Grow a little, learn a little, meet a few more interesting people. You won’t be sorry.

And I promise, if I can get there, I’ll come clap for you.

March 1, 2014
by dawnkinster 7 Comments

Musician?

Music maker

After our community band’s back to back concerts last weekend we’ve had a week off. And as usual when I’m not up against a time constraint, not pushed to my limits, not facing epic failure, I didn’t practice my instrument at all. Not once. All week. I did take it out and clean it a bit. And I thought about practicing, surely that counts. So I had a somewhat pleasant jolt earlier in the week when our director sent an email out to everyone thanking us for two great performances, telling us how much she enjoyed Saturday morning when we played at the Community Band Festival, how she was honored to work with such a fine group of musicians.

Musician? Me?

I have never thought of my self as a musician. A musician practices daily, does exercises that aren’t any fun, limbers up fingers, breathes from the diaphragm, tightens the embouchure, can hear whether notes are flat or sharp and can fix it. None of that describes me now or at any time in my past.

Still.

She made me smile when I read her email because it had been fun, that early morning concert – the applause that seemed to last forever, the good feeling we had watching her take another bow, the celebratory singing on the way home. It was all fun, and I wouldn’t get to do that, experience that from my place in middle age, without a Community Band. I’m lucky we have one near my town, lucky that our director is exacting and can choose a good program, lucky to play with other folks who are so talented. Just plain lucky.

I was watching PBS a bit this afternoon. They were doing a show called “My Music” with groups of middle aged and older once upon a time famous (and some still famous) folks singing music from the 50’s and 60’s. I didn’t have any problem thinking of them as musicians, and as I watched the grey haired, slightly rotund musicians throw themselves lovingly into their performance I realized I was watching more of the lucky ones, the ones that get to keep doing the thing they love.

So here’s to all the musicians out there. The famous ones and the not so famous, the has beens and the never really made its. And to all of us who never quite considered ourselves to be musicians at all. We might just be the most lucky because we do it for nothing more than the sheer joy of making something so beautiful it lasts forever in our hearts.

She sent an email to thank us for being fine musicians. I think we need to say thank you back to her…for pushing us to be musicians at all.

Horn

January 27, 2014
by dawnkinster 8 Comments

Wide weekend spectrum

Aunt and the UM bell tower

It’s Monday night and I’m just finding time to tell you about our weekend. I seem to be perpetually behind. Obviously I’m spending way too much time at work. Yea, that’s it.

Saturday evening husband and I attended the University of Michigan’s Collage Concert. You’re heard me talk about these concert in past years. It’s bits and pieces of symphony, band, small groups, soloists, dancers and actors who perform one after the next, each in their own spotlight, the light bouncing from one side of the stage to the other, then focusing on the larger groups, and back to individuals.

Lots of talent

Every person was playing, singing, dancing or acting their hearts out. Each gave their art their absolute best. The combination was fast paced, magical and eclectic. It’s wonderful. Where else could we hear an alto saxophone solo playing the contemporary “The Brass Violin“ by Creviston, transitioning into a chamber choir singing “Ubi caritas“ by Mealor (sung at the royal wedding in 2011). I give you these two examples just to show you how divergent the works were that we enjoyed.

We heard bits of an oboe sole accompanied by a soundtrack of a poem complete with the sounds of birds, a jazz ensemble playing music that had us all tapping our toes and nodding our heads, followed by six men playing classical bassoon while wearing glittery jester hats, followed by 4 trombones playing a crazy contemporary piece followed by the soft tones of the chamber choir again.

Pretty details

It keep us engaged. It kept us looking excitedly for the next spotlight. Where else could we have ever hear a full symphony play a version of “Rhapsody in Blue” woven delicately with the University of Michigan fight song? I ask you where? Only in Ann Arbor.

It was fun. It was crazy. It was beautiful. And I was more than a little sad when the symphony began the familiar strains of Ravel’s “Bolero” because I knew that was the last piece. I’ve said it before, but it is truly amazing to witness that much talent all on one stage, all in one night.

We drove home in a lull between snowstorms happy and tired. We fell into bed late, anticipating a slow lazy Sunday morning. We did not factor in Katie.

Playing!

Katie woke me up at 5 a.m. She had to go out. I did the usual “GO LAY DOWN!” She did not. Though I tried again, in the end I got up and we went outside so she could pee. Shortly after coming back inside, with me back under the warm covers she asked to go out. Again. I got up and we went back out. Again. And again a few minutes later…and again…and again. I went out with her 11 times in 4 hours.

Eventually even I had to realize this was not normal and I got a few samples for the vet. We took her to the local emergency after hours vet (because why would this occur during regular vet hours?) along with her samples.

They took her in the back to weigh her and try for a more sterile sample…and then we waited. Katie waited in her Dad’s lap where she is most comfortable when she is in a scary place.

Sleepy little sick girl

She was so tired and stressed she fell asleep in his lap. I wished I could do the same. Shortly the results were back…she has a urinary tract infection. We got her meds, paid the $300+ bill, and headed home.

She settled in at home as if just going to the vet made her feel better. She got her first pill and seemed to be as good as new, though that doesn’t seem possible. She got her second pill late Sunday night and slept through the night. Today she seems pretty much her normal self. So I’m happy we didn’t wait till normal office hours today since she got relief so fast.

Still…it was a crazy weekend and I woke today sorely wishing it was a 3 day weekend. Katie says she wouldn’t have minded another day with everyone home either. But she’ll wait till next weekend to go to the park..given it’s stinking cold here…record lows predicted for tomorrow.

I sure wish we could all stay home and be nice and warm tomorrow!

Snowy

December 13, 2013
by dawnkinster 7 Comments

Santa visits

You’d think Santa would be too busy this time of year to drop in on our little local community band concert. You’d be wrong. We have a very special relationship with Santa, and he stops by every year for our holiday concert. (Photos from last year’s visit – I forgot the camera this year!)

This year he was almost late! He says it’s because he was halfway here when he realized he was wearing his Crocs instead of his Santa boots, so he had to go back to the Santa House and change his shoes.

It was a wonderful concert. Children were invited to come up on stage and shake jingle bells while we played Here Comes Santa Claus. We told them if they rang those bells loud enough Santa would come. And he did. Then the children danced to Rock Around the Christmas Tree while Santa directed the band. That was probably the highlight of the concert for their parents; you should have seen the little one’s faces. Priceless. I almost lost my place in the music because I was watching the kids dance.

The music was therapeutic for me too. It’s been a long week but it ended perfectly with beautiful music and a wonderful and supportive community all coming together to celebrate.

Merry Christmas everyone. Enjoy your weekend.

December 10, 2013
by dawnkinster 21 Comments

History repeats…and repeats

It’s Tuesday night and that means I was at band practice right? Well sort of. Tonight the high school was doing a holiday concert, and as we have several high school musicians in our community band who would be performing, we opted to attend their event and then claim the stage after for our own dress rehearsal. We have our holiday concert this Friday evening.

Today I had a specially difficult day at work and I wasn’t in the mood for holiday music, but the kids, dressed in their black suits and tux shirts or long black dresses quickly got me in the spirit. They were just so elegant, so confident, so very very young. And did I mention talented?

I watched them enjoy themselves as they produced wonderful music. I watched them lean in and let all that creativity float free. I watched them focus, concentrate, immerse themselves. And I saw in them my own high school band, saw their futures spread out before them, remembered so much of what they have not yet experienced.

I wish them a future filled with music. I hope when they look back 40 years from today they are sitting in the audience watching kids who are sitting elegantly, creatively, earnestly; kids preforming beautiful holiday music which helps to ease the day’s burdens and bring on the Christmas spirit. And I hope they remember tonight and all they felt as they made the music that washed over us. Better yet – I hope 40 years from now they are still playing in a band, still making music.

We gave them a standing ovation, then climbed up on the stage to rehearse our own music. Tired, we ran through the music for the concert, cleaning up a few little things here and there. I marked 4 measures I need to figure out before Friday, others did too. Our last piece is the classic “Sleigh Ride.” You know the one where the horse whinnies at the end? Everyone does it. Every year. Without fail. Still, it’s familiar, it’s Christmas, it’s fun. What better way to end a concert?

The musical version of horses clomping through snow was ringing in my ears as I trudged out to the car through fresh snow, the wind whipping at my legs, my eyes stinging, my fingers freezing. I was kind of loosing all that Christmas spirit. But as I turned on the ignition the radio sprang to life…they were playing “Sleigh Ride” and I began to hum along. And then I took the long way home, through the neighborhoods, looking at the Christmas decorations and singing with the radio.

Seems it just takes a little bit of music, a bit of reminiscing while watching talented kids play, a little music of my own, to let the cares of the day go. I recommend it to all of you. Check your local high school’s website. Every school band is doing a concert about now. Get yourself over there, support them and collect your reward – a renewed faith in kids, in holidays, in kindness and goodness and beauty.

You’ll be humming “Sleigh Ride” on the way home. I guarantee it.

Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Tag Archives: music