Clio's Swiss Blog

brahms clarinet quintet

2010-12-07T14:48:00.000-08:00

Today I went to a lunchtime chamber music concert of members of the Orchestre de Chambre de Lausanne playing Brahms' clarinet quintet.

It was wonderful. This was an approach to Brahms that is different from what I often hear in the U.S. Not all loud, thick, and rich with constant vibrato, but buoyant, transparent, warm, full of color.

The cellist had an amazing role in this performance: by daring to play softly he brought everyone else with him, creating at times the most amazing suspended moments, like in the exposition of the first movement.

I've noticed, also in lessons with my teacher Gilad Karni on the opus 120 sonata in e flat major that timing and color and line are as integral part of the music as having a rich sound. It brings into this music a sort of intimacy, vulnerability that is new for me.

my baroque adventure

2010-09-25T07:46:00.000-07:00

So, my last post took place in a German town where I was attending a baroque music festival. In this one I want to describe the beginnings of my serious studies as a baroque violist.

As a way of explaining the difference between the way modern classical musicians and baroque musicians interpret music, listen to the following two versions of the first movement of the Bach double concerto. First is Stern and Perlman (modern instruments), http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vesrqFeq9rU, and after Andrew Manz and Rachel Podger (baroque instruments), http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIOh5Iq683o. You'll probably notice many differences, the most obvious being that they play at different pitch levels.

The masterclass in Germany was with Elizabeth Wallfisch, a well-known Australian baroque violinist. She was great-always brimming with energy and enthusiasm, and also a wonderful person. I felt like that class was a bit like a 'honeymoon' with the period instrument world. Ok, four days to have some lessons and prepare a concert. Let's go. There wasn't much time for discussing the subtleties of different tuning systems or picking things apart.

On the contrary, my first lesson on the baroque viola with my new teacher Florence Malgoire in Geneva was quite...rigorous? I felt a bit like a lowly modern player who wants to be a part of the baroque world whose innumerable technical habits and musical intentions of a modern violist make her something of an impostor. That said, I think that there are different levels baroque-ness, the purists, the less pure, etc, and I've worked with baroque musicians from all parts of this range. I think probably also my teacher probably wants to start fresh with me, and really take care of obstacles in the beginning.

I find, however, that as a teacher her approach is far more musical than any of the teachers that I've had in the past. My assignments for the week included exercises and scales, but also 'speaking' the words of a recitative from an aria with my bow. It might sound funny, but my modern teacher does not play a role in my creative process. It is more, how can you sound good? and good means musical, of course, but he doesn't teach that way.

She also said at one point, "This sonata is in E major, which is a luminous tonality." Perhaps part of her being so musically oriented comes from her active performing career, but I think at the base it is an inseparable part of her as a person. A student brought a slow movement of Bach that was less than immaculately prepared, and perturbed, she questioned them "But how could you do this to such beautiful music?"

germany

2010-09-09T05:41:00.000-07:00

I’m staying in a very German small town called Irsee. There is a former monastery here that houses a yearly baroque festival which I am participating in. I’ve had masterclasses with Elizabeth Wallfisch, a fantastic baroque violinist.
Today we had a bit of time off before our concert and I went with a few friends to visit the euthanasia center. This probably sounds quite chilling, and it is. During WW2 Nazis used this monastery as a camp for sick and handicapped adults and children who they killed either by starvation or poison. We took in this building that had been used at one time for these ghastly acts, looked at the table that looked oddly like a butcher block with a grooves running to the sides and a drain in the middle. There were pictures on the wall of starving, naked children wailing in agony, one missing a hand. Outside there was a memorial, a sculpture with an inscription: “Let us cry out your pain.” There was a cursory explanation posted about the 2,000 people who had died here by the mass grave where they lie.
It was really overwhelming, especially because we went from this ‘euthanasia center’ next door to the beautiful baroque church of the abbey where a wonderful boys choir was singing, singing angelically. The history that you find on Germany is just so shocking, so horrible, and lies in a present that is so picturesque, so calm, so ordered. It is a very strange juxtaposition. I was left reeling today after experiencing the holocaust site and then the boys choir and church in rapid succession.

danmark

2010-08-11T02:34:00.000-07:00

Hello all

I'm going to fire up the blog after a little vacation... I spent the month of July on a road trip through the western United States: san fransisco to chicago with stops at the grand canyon, my sister's wedding, and other wonderful places until we reached chicago/lafayette, the homeland. It's funny, though, because california is my real homeland. I was born in Oakland and lived there on and off until first grade when my family moved to the midwest. So the trip was kind of retracing my life's path.

Now I'm in Denmark, or Danmark, as it is in Danish. I'm at a music festival called "Thy (pronounced 'tou') Masterclasses,"(http://www.thymasterclass.dk/) which in reality is not masterclasses but a two week chamber music festival. I'm playing five different pieces and over the course of the two weeks will perform each piece twice in concerts around this area of western denmark.

The opening concert of the festival was last night, a sort of impromptu deal pulled together on the second day of the festival. It was a little long, two and half hours followed by a reception with more music, but everyone seemed to enjoy all of it. What was lovely about the concert is how varied the program was, everyone had just brought something that they really liked playing or something fun that they could put together quickly.

Some highlights from the concert: Ravel duo for violin and cello: incredile energy and passion. Especially in the second movement the violinist pushed the limits of what we consider playing with a pretty sound to good effect. (i.e. a little rought or ugly) Sarasate's Zigeunerweisen, or 'Gypsy Airs,' played with great flair (ok, he hammed it up a little) but the audience ate it up. What else? Two faculty played a hungarian chardas with much drama and suspense during the reception. What was exciting about this concert was hearing all these great musicians playing so well and so differently. It's exciting to me in this 2 year international sojourn to be surrounded by lots of different players at once from all over Europe and the United States.

my blog just turned to french...

2010-06-15T04:31:00.001-07:00

i mean, the instructions...

the academic year here is wrapping up, and I'm thinking of writing a several part reflection on this year.

I spent last weekend in France with the family of a friend of mine here and her boyfriend. They are both french, so as foreigners in Switzerland they of course have there own reactions. I was surprised, when I asked one friend about how he liked living in Switzerland, to hear that he preferred living in Switzerland to living in France. (a lot of french that I ask will say that they feel like the swiss are a bit uptight, or that they are made to feel like a foreigner here) He said there is a certain violence in French culture, and when I asked him to explain he gave me two examples. France is a socialist leaning democracy, but unemployment is a large problem and government services are often underfunded and overtaxed. What this means practically is that if you live in France, every time you go run errands at the bank, the post office, etc the employees are in a bad mood because the offices are understaffed (the same thing as in big cities in the US).

Another example he gave was the lack of integration of immigrants from former colonies. France has post-colonial guilt, thus this issue is a bit taboo, but nevertheless it is a huge societal problem that has existed for a long time. He said that in building housing projects in the suburbs for immigrants, the french government created the problem of segregation. I understood and wondered how similar the situation with la banlieue in france is to inner city violence and poverty in the US.

As we were sitting outside sunday afternoon eating barbecued lamb, the question came up, "What do you think of Obama?" Like, wow, we have a couple of real Americans here, now we can get the insider view or something. It was fascinating to talk about politics with my friend's parents, both teachers in French schools. Like most french I've met, they despise Sarkozy. But the extent to which they feel he is wrong is impressive: at one point her mother said "We had an enormous revolution two hundred years ago to change things and now it is as if it didn't happen." Apparently his administration is pretty slick about how they manipulate their power; redistricting to gain an advantage in elections, basically being corrupt. I sensed overwhelmingly their anger and outrage at the president and the state of french politics.

I'll continue with some reflections about music soon...

In two weeks I'm going to be back in the US and am looking forward to seeing many of you soon!

bolero

2010-05-20T14:10:00.000-07:00

I just returned from a concert of l'orchestre de la suisse romande, geneva's orchestra. They play part of their season in Lausanne, as there is no big symphony orchestra in Lausanne.

This was the program: (pictures of conductor and soloist included)

Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos, direction

Alexandre Tharaud, piano

Isaac Albeniz/Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos Castilla, Granada, Sevilla, Asturias, Aragon, extraits de la «Suite espagnole»

Maurice Ravel Concerto pour piano et orchestre en sol majeur

Maurice Ravel Daphnis et Chloé, suite N° 2

Maurice Ravel Boléro, pour orchestre

My favorite moments were the second movement of the Ravel piano concerto, the encore played by Tharaud, the solo flute player, and the first two thirds of bolero.

The pianist was really inspiring to me, in how he carried the melody in the slow movement of the ravel, creating a sense of suspension, of something indefinite. In his encore (a chopin number) he did this same thing, his control over the melodic voice allowed a certain flexibility that i found fascinating.

Bolero, as many of you may know, begins with a snare drum ostinato that continues throughout the piece, which is one 15-minute crescendo. The rhythm started by the snare drum remains throughout, getting increasingly louder until it is joined by another snare drum to ramp up the volume in the final minutes of the piece.

(This is one in a repertoire of pieces that I played when I was in youth orchestra in Indianapolis, ages 14-18 or so. I remember getting so tired with this pizzicato as our conductor tediously rehearsed each wind instrument solo. )

back to the OSR, and tonight's bolero. I was really struck by how quietly they began this piece, and with how much restraint they played. The first flute solo was so beautiful and so audaciously soft. However, as the piece progressed, it got steadily louder but never got loud enough. I felt like the orchestra was more concerned about staying in rhythm and playing with a nice sound than playing the music, and just letting it go and get really loud and huge and raucous at the end. that was disappointing.

something about this interpretation seems very swiss though. nothing too out of control.

don't put sugar in the gas tank, lucas!

2010-05-13T04:08:00.000-07:00

hello everyone.

Last week I played a concert-Richard Wagner's Wesendonck Lieder arranged for voice and piano quartet (piano, violin, viola, cello) rather than the original which is for just voice and piano. We played at Geneva's Palais de l'Athenee, in the 'bee room.' It was a funky venue. The ceiling of the concert hall was painted with a swarm of bees arranged in a very orderly swirl around the chandelier in the center of the room. Behind us on the stage there was a fake curtain painted on the wall.

After the concert we moved to another room for schmoozing/apero with the wagner fans of geneva. The walls were covered with 18th century portraits, and again, the walls painted with fake wood and bricks, lending an air to this building of being very old an ornate until you look just a bit closer.

I chatted with the professor who had worked with us on these songs, a professor that I have recently been very inspired by. He is quite a character: an american originally from northern inland maine (he told me he was self-taught as a musician until going to music school) who runs the opera program at the conservatory in Lausanne. What I find inspiring about his teaching is that 1) everything that comes out of his mouth is about the music (as opposed to the technicality of playing an instrument or so singing) and 2) he has a quite developed pedagogy that makes it easy to understand what he is going for. Quotes are constantly tumbling out of his mouth like "in music the notes attempt to express emotion but it is the silences that expresses the inexpressible"...

in other words, it is the spaces, the breath where the music lives. working with him has given me a lot of food for thought.

Let me unpack this a tiny bit: in told the effect of working with him on this chamber music piece was that I was able to play better than I usually do just by changing my thoughts. I've learned a lot working with him and with vocalists--singing is just so much more natural than playing a stringed instrument. He led us during one lesson through some very simple breathing exercises, but it really made us play much better together, simply by breathing together in a relaxed way.

I said this already, but it's also inspiring to have a professor who is really just talking about MUSIC and not about technique. So often teachers in chamber music will say, that's not together, make it together, that's not in tune, make it in tune. But it is, in the end, remarkably inefficient to go about playing music this way. They don't bother to help you understand the root of the problem, why something is not together--they only expect you to fix it somehow, wave your violin around, look at each other. What I've learned from working with this voice teacher on chamber music is that it is about understanding the music together, and from there, simply listening, focusing and reacting.

I've started to recognize in my many years of playing and studying what makes really great musicians great. it is this, that they are always thinking of the music rather than the details that make it up (ensemble, intonation, balance) and they teach about music in this sequence as well, and ultimately it makes you think more and play better.

during one coaching we hit a spot where we were not together and the teacher yelled at the swiss french pianist..,"don't put sugar in the gas tank!" I wasn't even sure what he meant, but through context I knew he meant, don't mess this up, don't disrupt, don't complicate. I thought it was funny that he chose to say this in this way to our pianist who speaks english but not amazingly. but maybe it doesn't matter if we don't always understand what our teachers say as long as it makes us think.

Pâques

2010-03-31T05:37:00.000-07:00

So, spring break here is actually Easter vacation. A lot of the U.S. celebrates Easter, (3/4 of Americans are Christian) but I've never had a spring vacation over Easter.

Which leads me to believe that: 1) Easter is not a commercial enough Christian holiday to warrant vacation or 2) We don't care that much about easter 3) Christmas vacation is enough, why do you need another?

People take more vacations here, it seems...

One thing that I'm doing this Easter week is playing Bach's St. Matthew Passion. I won't sound like a very good jaded professional musician if I say this, but it is really something to play this amazing piece of music in a 14th century cathedral. Listen, if nothing else to this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=44HcQAyDsvU&feature=related

Than, I found a version of someone playing this same number on erhu (chinese stringed instrument). wow.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zs5-XFFBuI

Beautiful music.

favorite new word in french

2010-03-25T04:44:00.000-07:00

bourgeon = bud

It's spring. I'm happy.

Recently I played a concert of Dvorak's Stabat Mater at an abbey that is the oldest Christian site in Europe (founded in 515), a small town called St. Maurice situated at the mouth of the valais, one of the largest valleys in Switzerland. We arrived on a misty Sunday at midday, the mountains looming above the town partially obscured by low lying clouds. Right before the concert the clouds parted and the sun came out. As we played the sunlight drifted in through the stained glass windows. The surroundings elevated my experience of playing the concert. I find it constantly astonishing how many beautiful old buildings there are here...and it's so taken for granted. There are many subtle ways in which life is different here, and much nicer. Cars are not the dominant form of transportation, people live closer together, culture and education are generously sustained by government money. I feel like I am getting spoiled being here.

I also enjoyed that my stand partner (btw, this is an amateur orchestra, I agreed to play as a paid 'reinforcement' for the novelty, or the cultural experience more than anything) had pasted small notes at the bottom of each movement with the text in Latin so that he could follow the text being sung. Sadly, I don't understand Latin.

failloubaz

2010-03-04T14:47:00.000-08:00

I'm in the midst of playing my first bad gig in Switzerland. Except it's not completely bad because: 1) they feed us well 2) it's slightly amusing.

http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ernest_Failloubaz

Read this, it's about the first person to make a flight between two cities in Switzerland, as Ernest Failloubaz did in 1910. I am now in the midst of playing a musical/oratorio based on his life and work. This work includes choir of 1000, orchestra, and 4 soloists. It is divided into 5 parts, each conducted by the composer who wrote the music (5 parts, 5 composer/conductors). The music is pretty (ahem) bad, much of it following a write one cliché sounding theme, then cut and paste it several times tactic.

What I find amusing is how desperately, in concert, the conductors wish that the choir could read lips, mouthing/singing under their breaths the words to each number with a vigor I rarely see.

In all seriousness, what I like about this is seeing people of all ages get really excited about singing and dancing. I have grown up mostly around church choirs, which is a bit more routine, though lovely thing. These choirs have memorized a 2 hour + work written by local composers about a national hero.

Just to give you an idea I'll describe a scene briefly. Near the beginning there is a men's choir (20 or so out of the 1000) that march onstage to the opening of "Vissez l'helice" ("Screw on the propeller") wearing work overalls and carrying tools (wrenches, hammers, you get the idea). They make gestures pretending to fix things with their tools as they march on stage, and when they arrive at their designated spot on stage, they continue their 'fixing things' gestures with the tools as they sing the song. It's kind of kitch, but heartfelt. very heartfelt.

three concerts to go.

bis-ing the japanese

2010-02-26T04:01:00.000-08:00

Hello all

It's been a while. Apologies. As I have settled into Lausanne and my studies here, my activities have gotten both more interesting and more numerous. The things I am excited about right now are: playing in a string quartet that actually has the goal of sounding good and working hard together, playing baroque viola, and experiencing the life (in a superficial way) of the freelancer in Switzerland by playing in the second-tier Lausanne orchestra (http://www.sinfonietta.ch/web/index.aspx).

It's all great.

A few short stories from the past week. Last Monday and Tuesday I did a run of concerts in Lausanne elementary and middle schools. I would not say that they were very successful--we played a mostly classical program (cimarosa, mozart, handel, and barber adagio) and the conductor tried to kind of force feed the kids reasons that they should care about classical music as they sat in squirmy silence (they were very well behaved).

("You know, the pop music you listen to actually came from classical music, it didn't just fall from the sky," or "A soloist in a concerto is a bit like an alpine skier like in the Olympics: they have to do a lot of hard stuff while the crowd (or orchestra) cheers them on.") It wasn't that what he said was bad necessarily, but that he tried to say too many things. Once after finishing his monologue he turned back to the orchestra, then changed his mind, re-facing the kids, and saying, by the way...this music does NOT tell a story like Pierre et le Loup (peter and the wolf). So enjoy.

I dont' think there is the same sense of urgency here about bringing classical music into children's lives. Orchestras do not rely so much on public support to survive, as the state funds many of them generously. It is not sooo hard to get grant money here, of to find concerts, even for an upstart group, or a small orchestra like Sinfonietta. There is this combination of heightened state support and also a more integral place in Swiss culture. A few nights ago we played a concert in a countryside village 30 minutes outside of Lausanne. It was completely packed (a small chalet-style wooden hall, but still) and we played a decent concert and an encore. Afterwards many from the audience and much of orchestra stayed and ate a light meal of cheese, paté (it's a kind of pastry with meat inside), more cheese, bread, wine, etc. It felt very I don't know, convivial? Not too pretentious?

Last night I went to a lovely dinner at a Japanese friend's house, the occasion being of some of her friends and family from Japan. It was quite a trip trying to communicate, although it wasn't too hard considering there were 2 japanese speakers, 3 japanese-french speakers, and 3 french speakers. Not bad at all. Many choice phrases were acquired by the french speaking guests, "oishii" or "arigato." (yummy and thank you). But my favorite part of the evening was saying good bye. Normally, the japanese bow to each other and say very courteous things, the french-speaking swiss kiss each other three times. I found myself kissing the Japanese visitors goodbye and saying "gochisosama" at the same time. It was strange indeed because I feel like the two cultures are in some ways so different, but to see this readiness on their part to adapt, to fit into a different culture was somehow...weird and touching at the same time?

andy and clio in swiss part I

2010-01-07T14:56:00.000-08:00

So, as I was cleaning out my wallet the other day I came across, in order, all the trian tickets I purchased for little trips around french-speaking switzerland while andy was here. I'm going to slowly recount each adventure...

Andy arrived the monday, the 21st of december in the morning. I had meticulously layed out a plan for him to take the train from lausanne to geneva and then find his way to my apartment without any cell phone contact. In the end, I decided I was too excited to see him and went to pick him up. He came off the plane lugging a suitcase full of presents and american food (tortillas, canned pumpkin, ramen, cornmeal, salmon mmmm). He introduced me to his seatmate, and enthusiastic Christian who seemed very friendly.

We made it home to Lausanne and hit the grocery store for some breakfast food, my kitchen being relatively empty after stores closing for sunday. Andy made sure to buy paté (not something I have ever been tempted to eat here).

With short days, afternoon quickly and we hurried onto a train for Fribourg, where I spent the summer learning french, to go to a friend's + andy's birthday party. I made twin carrot cakes, one decorated David and one Andy in orange peel. After a walking tour in the fading sunlight, we headed to David's abode (the residence hall that I lived in last summer as well) to prepare party food. There was quite a large mixed crowd of people. Andy enjoyed the gamut of greetings and birthday traditions from the three cheek 'nice to meet you' or goodbye to 23 ear pulls from my Russian friend Natasha. Andy lasted pretty well until the 11:30 train and finally! got to go to sleep after two days of voyaging and his first day in Switzerland.

The 22nd, Andy's birthday, was a special day. We really packed it in: train to Montreux, a town 25 minutes down the coast of lake Geneva, to see the Christmas market, then a walk to the Château de Chillon, then train back, swim at the municipal pool, concert of jazz/swiss alphorn music, then birthday dinner + skype dates. We took some cool pictures of the chateau and the dents du midi, a series of peaks (or literally, peaks) to the southeast of Lake Geneva.

The Christmas market was pretty kitsch, but it was fun to go to the cookie stand and buy two of all the cookies that looked interesting. My favorite was maybe the marzipan filled with chocolate hazelnut cream. We looked at all the bizarre pointless things for sale-mushrooms with faces carved out of wood, a whole booth of silicon cooking tools, a booth mostly selling fluorescent colored nougat, etc. We bought chestnuts and munched along the way.

On the way to Château de Chillon I managed to fall in the lake (only up to knees) the complete story can be found on the gross club.blogspot. Because it's kind of gross.

I think Andy had a good birthday, if in a somewhat jet lagged state, fueled by several cups of coffee. The concert was a bit much and he was out pretty much immediately. I got a big kick out of hearing an alphorn concerto, though. Almost as good as yodeling.

ligeti

2009-10-29T10:58:00.001-07:00

I played my first concerts in Switzerland this week, performing Ligeti's Melodien for chamber orchestra as part of contemporary music series here in Lausanne and also in Annemasse, France.

First of all, it was great program, a composer portrait of Gyorgy Ligeti (1923-2006), a Romanian/Hungarian composer, including two orchestral works and two chamber music works. There was variety in the program in terms of type of ensemble, but the concert was also preceded by a lecture on Ligeti (which I did not listen to).

When I got on stage I was impressed by how attentive he audience was (and this was the last piece of the program, nonetheless). As we played the ethereal melodies and textures of the Ligeti, I realized, even through my intense concentration (this piece is quite demanding on the player...subdividing a beat into anywhere from 4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11, to 12 parts) I realized that there was a sort of hush in the concert hall, that the audience was captured by the music.

It's really cool to feel like that while playing music that can be inaccessible on first hearing.

In Annemasse, as well, two nights later we played the same concert. This time instead of a pre-concert lecture the conductor spoke briefly about each piece, and performers played brief musical examples. When it came to the Ligeti string quartet (really great piece, by the way) he talked about a sort of characteristic of Ligeti's music, of two opposing textures which he called "Clocks and Clouds." The clocks representing motives of a more driving, mechanistic nature, the clouds the atmospheric chords and harmonics that proliferate.

I didn't get the sense that the audience was shifting in their seats or bored out of their minds, as I sometimes do at contemporary music concerts. I was impressed at how lovingly and engagingly the conductor spoke of the music, dispensing, I thought, the right amount of information before each piece.

London, et al

2009-10-21T10:07:00.000-07:00

I returned from London yesterday, where I was playing at the Frieze Art Fair, an annual contemporary art fair in Regents Park.

I was also there to see River, a good friend of mine for many years. It was great to met some of her people and catch up with her.

I was playing in an exhibition at the fair, the brainchild of a friend of her's who also lives/lived in Milwaukee. Their exhibit was called 'club nutz,' a replica of a small comedy club that exists in a gallery in Milwaukee as well. They billed it, (when people poked their heads in and asked) as "the smallest comedy club in the world." The point of their exhibit was to (I think) create a unique space for live performance, but also to break down barriers a bit, inviting eminent gallery owners and art world stars to come give performances (anything from readings of Adolf Wölflito telling jokes, to demonstrating a whiskey-pouring jokes) My rendition there of Bach's second cello suite was not completely ill-fitting. I also did a short demonstration with River of some ideas of Rudolf Steiner...as you can probably see, there were quite a varied set of acts at clb nutz.

I also had some quite interesting/eclectic interactions with people in London. I met some a British pair on the bus who I began talking to after we both realized we had no idea where we were going (I probably asked 6 people per day for directions, this being my second trip to London). He asked me what I was doing in London if I was from the U.S. (as in, why would you bother to come here?) then proceeded to explain to me that Brits were less attractive than Americans because of how Darwinism weeded out the less physically attributed when Europeans were settling the U.S. He also said, people in California are especially tall because it was hardest to get all the way to the west coast. hmmm. not sure I agree. He also complained of how mean Londoners are...suggested I go to Ireland or the south coast of England, like Cornwall.

I also met a few musicians from Switzerland while at a pub with Jenny, the friend I was staying with. They were so friendly to me--one told me my french was impeccable except for having a slight German accent (?). He then proceeded to fill me in on all the cool things to do in Lausanne.

It was great to be in London-I ran into a lot of cool people, saw some great art. But in some ways it was exhausting as well, and reminded me in that sense of New York. Lausanne, said one of the swiss musicians I met, "est tranquille" accompanied by a kind of relaxed gesture. "London, on the other hand is a place of extremes, all or nothing of everything you do. "

so a good weekend...lots of perspective.

Life as a music student in Lausanne

2009-09-28T03:48:00.000-07:00

I feel pretty damn spoiled. This is my schedule, give or take:

Practice

Eat

Sleep

Hang out with people

Go on hikes.

I have, for me, for what I am used to, an enormous amount of time to concentrate on playing the viola. This is what I came here to do, and it is incredible to be able to devote so much time and energy to it.

At the conservatory, my obligations as a student have been slow to start, so right now my work is mainly individual. I'm preparing for an audition for an internship with an orchestra in Lausanne and learning music for upcoming concerts. My professor was here a lot in September, so I'll spend the next four weeks he isn't here on incorporating what we have already talked about.

Sometimes I feel like all I do is practice. Sometimes I feel like I don't practice enough. Balance, it's all about balance, huh?

I've been enjoying doing things in French that I have done a lot in English: chamber music coachings, yoga classes, musician gossip, etc. I went to a yoga class and meditated on the gender of various body parts and whether the word 'relâcher' is related to 'relax.' (I think it is).

I hope that my french is improving--I think I'm getting more familiar with third person plural, and forms of verbs that are slightly more inaccessible to my brain. (I haven't yet started to use the subjunctive...I usual realize the opportunity after it passes). I have to say, Americans set the bar low for language learning: I get a lot of compliments on my French within the context of 'Wow, Americans normally have horrible accents.' Someone told me today that I talked like the Swiss, what with the septante, etc. I told him that being less complicated, I chose the swiss way of saying 70, 80, 90 (septante, huitante, nonante rather then in France French soixante-dix, quatre-vingt, quatre-vingt-dix). I haven't quite figured out how to tell who is Swiss and who is French amongst students and professors.

In sum, I'm enjoying my life here quite a bit. I feel lucky. Summer is hanging on, with countless days of 70 degrees with sun and no rain. Maybe this will all come crashing to a halt when I start to be busier and it gets cold...but probably even then life will be sweet in Switzerland.

Lausanne Part I

2009-09-05T02:44:00.000-07:00

The beginning of a stay somewhere is always a time for reflection, before things have started 100% and friends have emerged there is a moment of calm. I had a great summer, but now it's time to swtich gears, to find the steadiness and concentration that my music demands, to find a new rhythm and a new life here.

Yesterday I had a nice last fling with summer, swimming in Lac Leman (Lake Geneva). It was a perfect perfect two hours. Karl and I alternately swam and sunbathed, dozing off in the warm embrace of the sun. The water was crystal clear (the only lake I think I've ever worn goggles in), affording a vision of an underwater paradise of sorts. As the rays of sun glittered through the scene, I felt as though I was in an impressionist painting.

I am very content living here in my apartment--I really lucked out with that. I live in the center of the city, next to the backdoor of the conservatory. My roommate is great. I have a lovely, large bedroom (hint hint, visitors welcome).

the end of summer

2009-09-05T00:40:00.000-07:00

The summer language course ended with a bang: the tcf exam. Similar to the toefl, the tcf tests one’s knowledge of French. I found it quite challenging, which makes sense, since the test measures abilities far beyond my level. I enjoyed certain parts, like expression oral and expression écrit (oral and written expression) where I got to expound on my beliefs about television, the environment, and education. Other parts were not so fun: oral comprehension, grammar…

After the language course ended, we celebrated a little: We had a lovely picnic at a little spot next to the Sarine (the river that runs through Fribourg) and sat chatting, eating, and drinking until long after the sun had set. We joked that it was the cold war part two: the Russians carried on in Russian for most of the night, probably relieved to not think about French, leaving the Americans (north and south) to themselves.

Our last night in Fribourg David, my Chilean friend, cooked for everyone. It was delicious. After a summer spent together laughing and enjoying each other’s company throughout a variety of adventures, we had grown quite close. Luckily no one will be far away, as Switzerland is about the size of Indiana. Nevertheless, the magic of summer will be dissipate, with each going their own way and doing their own thing, as it should be.

french class

2009-08-14T07:48:00.000-07:00

So, I've been at it now for six weeks studying french here in Fribourg.

I've mostly written posts about various diversions without including the obvious, the 4-6 hours I spend each day studying French.

A few snapshots:

My professor, F.W., is an avid fan of high culture: classical music, literature, film, art. After discussing Proust with a friend of mine (a linguist and translator, studying french two levels above me) he said: I've finally met an interesting student. When he asked me for the English translation of "À la recherche du temps perdu" (In search of lost time?) and I didn't have an exact answer, he told me: you have to read Proust before you die.

Ok, ok. I will, I'm sure.

My class is a nice group of people: diverse, with varying backgrounds and reasons for learning French. For example, there is a priest learning French for his work in various Polish churches all over Switzerland. I had a car ride with him once to Geneva and it was fascinating hearing him explain Catholic theology in French to me and an ex-catholic friend.

There are several spouses of Swiss citizens.

There is a Kurdsh refugee in my class. He lived in the mountains for ten years during the Kurd rebellion against Turkey for their own state.

But probably the majority of students are learning french to prepare for studies here (like me).

Over the past 6-7 weeks, we've gotten to know each other quite well. On our grammar tests sentences are starting to appear, like "the musicians played baroque music." (for me) and "the music the D.J. selected was crap." (a reference to my friend who likes electronic music and dancing, and his ongoing debate with the prof, who maintains that all pop music is NOT music and that dancing is ridiculous). Also, there was something about false bills for a student in my class who is studying forensic chemistry.

A few more weeks, and then we have testing to see how far we've come. Time to start studying...

excursion no. 2

2009-08-07T13:04:00.000-07:00

Today my french class returned to the mountains for yet another 'excursion.' This one, however, was even better than the first.

We were a small group, I think fifteen people, and the route was higher in the mountains, with more scenic views and cooler temperatures.

The trip as led by professors of french three (my class) and french five (many of my friends' class). The high point, really, was watching the cows chase the professors.

As we were picnicking for lunch a herd of cows came over to drink from the water fountain. We watched and listened to the cows amble over to us. Each cow has a bell attached to its neck about the size of a very large grapefruit, and they produce an incessant clattering as the cows eat the grass.

Anyway, professors a and b are sitting on the ground eating their picnics when a cow tries to come over for a lick. A firm push on the head is about all they need to be dissuaded--they are gentle and easily scared creatures.

It was a fun walk with a diverse group of people. The professors are both way into literature and the arts. I can easily talk to either one about classical music--they both have a special kind of love for it that I do, but as listeners, not participants. I don't come across people like this often in the U.S. I talked to one of the professors for a while about chamber music, and he asked me about my favorite composers for the quartet (I said Beethoven, particularly the late quartets) he agreed, but said for me Schubert is really it. "Of course," I said.

weekend in viola land

2009-08-01T11:34:00.000-07:00

This weekend I'm taking a masterclass with Imai Nobuko, renowned Japanese violist who teaches in Geneva.

So far, it has been quite inspiring, living up to my expectation that studying music here is altogether different. At lunch today, Imai told me that at the beginning of her career she used to send many of her students to the U.S. to study because all the great European teachers were there. Now, however, none of the people teaching have studied in Europe and approach has become too technical, she said. She said she doesn't like it, this tendency to just play loud all the time: to play clean and loud. Yeah, I said, that is the New York style.

Imai is quite a personality: exuberant, with a gleeful laugh, but quite serious about teaching and playing the viola. Today a student played the Bartok concerto in masterclass with a bit of the wrong attitude for her: virtuosic instead of what the piece really was for Bartok: a plaintive and sorrowful meditation before his death (the viola concerto was his last piece). I think it was the stongest language she used: this is wrong for me, she said of his approach.

But that is what music is about: strong opinions and feelings. Indeed, this is what she lectured me about. You play this music, but you are not saying anything, she said of my rendition of the hoffmeister concerto.

At the end of the weekend she told us we could contact her, come to Geneva to observe lessons, etc. I'm excited to have the possibilty of learning from her as well as my professor in Lausanne.

the blues

2009-07-24T09:58:00.000-07:00

Last night was a friend's birthday, so we went out to celebrate.

At on point someone decided it would be fun to sing her happy birthday in all of the languages that we know: Swiss German, Russian, Portugese, American (not English), Spanish, and French. What resulted was the most amazing cacophony. Wow.

I think I've grown used to birthdays with musicians who can all sing in tune together. Not that I'm complaining; it was quite spirited.

Later we were listening to music (after the bar closed, which happens quite early in Fribourg) back at home. I had brought my ipod down and after listening and chatting for a while some blues came on...it was the most amazing thing because everyone immediately responded to the music and started dancing. It was pretty cool for me, having taught the blues to seven year olds in New York and seen the same innate response to the music.

It made me think about the music of my country: how varied and full of life it is. Being away form the U.S. makes it easier to understand exactly what we have and what is special about it.

tour de france

2009-07-24T09:53:00.001-07:00

I went with a few friends last Sunday to see the tour de France. Biking is quite a nice spectator sport: you stand there, watch the bikers go by for about five minutes, and that's it.

The bikers went by at a pace of 30 miles an hour, first a little clump (20 riders?) then a huge pack with most of the rest.

It was very exciting, and very quick. I filmed it with my camera.

I also enjoyed the people watching there: the group of 3 adults and four lassies (um, I mean collies), the woman waving a both a French and German flag, and then people regarding my group curiously: who are these foreigners speaking bad french and being really loud?

Excursion to the mountains

2009-07-17T09:58:00.000-07:00

Hiking day dawned bright and hot. We made it to the trail head for our hike and began! It was really a great day: my only complaint is that it was too hot and too humid. Because we were in the prealps (the hills leading up to the real mountains south of here)we were not at a high enough elevation to really get the cool mountain air.

I think in all we walked about 20 kilometers, which is quite a lot, about 12 miles. For taking a bunch of foreigners, I thought this quite ambitious. Although there was not much climbing (change in elevation) it was a lot of walking. I heard several times over the course of the day the phrase "Je suis mort." I am dead (of fatigue). Of course, an exaggeration, but it was definitely more of a challenge for those who are 'sportif' than those who are not.

I would also like to point out that the twelve mile walk we took yesterday was classified as "la marche" not "la randonnée." Translated into English, marche = walk and randonée= hike. I personally would classify a 12 mile jaunt through the Swiss prealps as a hike, but no, the word hike in Swiss is reserved for crossing the Alps on foot, or something equally difficult, at least two days in duration.

C'est drôle, la Suisse.

Attention! Careful!

2009-07-15T11:04:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow is the grand excursion to the mountains. All of the french classes will go to Lac Noir, (Schwarzsee in German, Black Lake in English) for a four hour hike.

We have undergone multiple briefings about precautions we must take: do not eat the flowers, do not pick the flowers DO NOT LITTER wear sensible shoes or we will not let you on the bus, bring your sunscreen or else you will turn red like a lobster. And then some final warnings: one can die hiking in the mountains, and every year at least one student gets lost= ???! i.e Pay attention! oh yes, and do no litter.

What is it with you Amercians and hiking?

2009-07-11T05:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was at a friend's apartment. One of his roomates was there, a law student from Geneva. Thinking he might, oh I don't know, maybe take advantage of growing up surrounded by mountains, I asked him if he did any hiking. My Chilean friend (also from somewhere well endowed with mountains) over heard and said, "What is it with you Americans and hiking?"

Hmm. I don't quite understand why hiking is not a big thing for the Swiss. (or maybe it is, and I haven't come into contact with enough Swiss people). Certainly in mountainous areas of the U.S. people are generally into out-doorsy stuff. Raised by exlied Californians, I grew up having 'wilderness vacations' cross country skiing and backpacking. It seems (to me) like it would be logical to go up to the mountains for an afternoon every two weeks or so, living in Switzerland.

My search for a hiking buddy continues. As my classmates plot what they will do for the two weeks between the end of the language course and the start of university, I've heard people going to Turkey, Israel, home to Russia, etc, but I might like to just wander the Alps a bit...

Adventures en Suisse

2009-07-07T14:03:00.000-07:00

I have realized a few things about my current situation:

This is truly an international experience. The students at the University Preparatory Courses are from all over the world. It's fascinating in some ways, frustrating in others: there can be miscommunications. At breakfast the other day I was reprimanded (maybe that is too harsh a word) by my friend from Tajikistan for mentioning a dream that I had the night before. "You don't want to tell your dreams, this is messing with fortune," she said. I understand that in a certain sense: dreams are quite personal, but I'm in the habit of discussing them with my friends back at home. She proceeded to tell me a story about one of her employers in Tajikistan, a scientist, who dreamed of going to the United States, kept it to himself, and then after some time the dream came true.

Another question was posed to me: "I heard that Americans don't eat real food anymore. This is why they are fat. But you're not fat, why?"

That was difficult to explain--I tried to explain how food is mainly produced in the U.S., on an industrial scale, and the ramifications. When you try to explain it, it just sounds crazy how we get our food, and what we eat. (by we, I mean the majority of Americans, not necessarily me).

There are a more students here who speak native Russian than who speak native English (there are 2 of us from the states, and I think that's about it).

Maybe I will also soak up a bit of Russian while I am here.

So we are all learning either French or German, and I suppose after a certain point I will be able to talk to everyone at some level (although, right now, it is near impossible for me to form sentences in German--French is dominating).

crossing the street: culture shock en Suisse

2009-07-02T14:02:00.000-07:00

Cars here stop for you when you cross the street: incroyable.

Today is day two and a half of my Swiss experience.

Today I heard an amazing rendition of Die Schöne Müllerin by the British tenor Marc Padmore. It was a concert in a festival celebrating lieder, or art songs. He apparently is something of a baroque specialist and his voice is very beautiful--not just loud and powerful all the time, it had much tenderness and nuance.

I am taking French three with Frédéric Wandelere, a Fribourg native with a particular interest in French etymology and Swiss history. He also is a classical music fanatic who writes liner notes for CD's (he specializes in Hugo Wolff). He mentioned that Hindemith wrote many works for the viola in my interview.

I've met quite an interseting cast of characters here at the school: so far there is only one other American, and I have befriended a few Chileans, a biologist from Tajikistan, a business-woman form Moscow, a pianist from Shanghai, my next door neighbor Igor is from Irkutsk (the city near Lake Baikhal), and a forensic chemist from Prague.

It's humbling and fascinating to be so out of my element, to be among so many interesting people and away from the small, narrow world of classical music.

Google has switched to German.

Preparing

2009-06-28T14:22:00.000-07:00

I'm on the eve of my departure to Switzerland, and bracing myself for a night of packing and then an interminable day of travel. First to Dublin, the Geneva, and finally a train to Fribourg where I'll live the next nine weeks, studying French.

Today I went to the Gay Pride parade in Chicago with my dad and brother and a friend from New York: maybe a good send off to a year in Switzerland. It was noisy, colorful, disorganized. As we left the parade with mobs of people heading for the subway, trash and debris were left in the wake, a dirty confetti strewing the ground.