The Children's Concert

I love working with young children, particularly when we have the opportunity to sing!  In my experience, most 4-year-olds are confident, adventurous, effervescent music-makers and they learn new things so quickly!  When the opportunity arose to share a free program of music with a group of children from the community (ages 3-5), I was eager to take part.  Together, Steve (known today as “Saxophone Steve”) and I planned a dynamic and interactive program featuring a series of familiar songs as well as a few new things.

1. Hello there.  We’ll begin with a simple call and response song to get everyone singing and moving.

2. Instrument Demo.  With a surprise entrance, we’ll segue smoothly into a demonstration of the saxophone.  Steve will talk about the high and low sounds a saxophone can make and ask the children to echo him.  We’ll talk about funny sounds and pretty sounds and use a few short, prepared pieces to demonstrate a variety of musical styles.  We’ll have the children participate by moving while we play.  When we talk about animal sounds, we’ll lead right into a crowd favorite, “Old McDonald.”

3. Sing-a-long.  We’ll lead a brief sing-a-long of songs we think they might know: “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star;” “The Itsy, Bitsy Spider;” and “If You’re Happy and You Know It.”  We’ll talk about our different voices (whisper voice, speaking voice, and singing voice) and move along with the music as we sing.  Simple visuals will help us explore form and repeated material.  Sandwiched in between the songs they know, we’ll incorporate a song I think will be less familiar: “Oats, Peas, Beans” (with a simple movement activity).

4. Short Performance.  To conclude the program, we’ll end with a short, prepared piece in ABA form (“Old Joe Clark”) and ask our little listeners to listen for the change in sections and respond with a given motion.  Hopefully, this will keep them engaged in their listening.

Think of us at 10 a.m. as we gather in a room with 35+ preschoolers and their grown-ups for a time of music-making, teaching, and learning!

Image Credit: Nicholas Garofalo

Ready or Not

Today is my first day back to school. It’s been a mad dash to the finish line but lesson plans in hand, I’m as ready as I think I could ever be.

As most of you know by now, I’m teaching a new class this semester.

It’s exhilarating and completely intimidating all at the same time. The thought of walking into a room with 34 pairs of eyes on me is enough to send me running in the other direction. But, I spent the last three weeks practicing excellence and preparing to teach, to demonstrate, to guide, to share what I know and what I’ve learned.

Yes, I wrote this entire course in three weeks.

Some may have sketched out the first few class periods and left the rest to office hours and Friday afternoons. I wanted to see the whole semester. And by “whole semester,” I mean:

• 4 textbooks spanning almost 500 years

• 78 pages of notes

• a 4-page outline for the first class

• 52 pieces of media (30 recordings, 22 YouTube videos)

• 77 slides of images

• 2 paper assignments

• a 5-page syllabus

• 7 group project assignments

• 10 essay topics

• 14 research paper topics

• 15 quizzes

I wanted to walk in on the first day with the big picture in mind. I want to teach every day with a goal, a purpose, an objective. This is where we’re going to start and this is where we’re going.

Ready or not, let’s do this.

Go for it

Here I sit, surrounded by textbooks, paper rubrics, reading lists, and a 52-page teaching guide that I’ve compiled over the past several weeks. Can you tell I’m in the final week of writing a new course to teach this semester? It’s been a bit overwhelming at times. But, last week was very productive and I feel good about that. My class was assigned to a classroom in another building on campus – across the quad from the Fine Arts Building where I have been teaching (and will still be teaching this semester) and where my office is located. I’ve let myself get bogged down with worry: How do I get there? What does the classroom look like? What kind of technology will I be able to access? Will I be able to get in there with enough time to get everything set up before class? In addition, I’d love to have a piano in the classroom to use as a teaching aid and I knew that would only happen in the Fine Arts Building. Can you imagine? Talking about Copland’s “American” style and actually being able to play open fifths and octaves to demonstrate that signature sound. Then, I got an idea.

Why don’t I just ask to move to another classroom?

It couldn’t hurt to try. Go for it, I told myself. One email, one simple question. Within two days, my class had been successfully re-booked in a classroom with a piano in the building where I’ve been teaching (just one floor down from my office, in fact!). What a relief. . .and what a valuable lesson.

Why let yourself be consumed with worry or depressed by the dreams of “if only”? Go for it. Make the change. Ask the question. Run the risk. Take that leap. Make it happen.

Setting Boundaries

This time last year, I started using TeuxDeux to keep track of my everyday and long-term to-dos. Though I really only use it when I'm at my computer, it helps me keep track of bill payments, emails, and those more involved to-dos that I don't want to include in my daily lists. For day-to-day, week-to-week, and month-to-month planning, however, I hold on to the traditional pen and paper method. I need an agenda that lets me see the whole week at a time, that includes space in the margins for notes and reminders, and that's small enough for me to carry around on a daily basis. For all of these reasons and more I am loving my new Moleskine!

The vertical layout shows a week at a time with monthly views up front for reference. I like that it includes the hours for each day so I can easily keep track of lessons, classes, and meeting schedules. I spent part of yesterday filling in a few recurring things in preparation for the scheduling that will take place over the course of the next few weeks. Choir starts back this week, my Westminster studio starts back next week, classes at the college start the following week, and my Fitchburg studio begins the first week in February.

This semester, I have decided to set more personal boundaries on my time. I will be adhering to my work-from-home Friday rule and I am setting more boundaries for my teaching schedule in both studios. I have classes at the college on Mondays and Wednesdays this semester so my availability for my Fitchburg students will be limited to those days. Thursdays are choir days and I've found it's simply too hectic to shift gears to private lessons in the middle of the afternoon. This limits my Westminster studio availability to Tuesdays (a matter of rescheduling for three students). This schedule feels balanced and manageable when I have boundaries in place. However, it puts me in a difficult position. When I limit my availability, I run the risk of losing students.

For the past year, I've kept Monday evening students despite spending the entire day teaching at the college. I drive home, drop my things, change my clothes, and run back out to teach. I confess that I'm not the best teacher I can be on Mondays at 6 p.m. I never feel 100% up to it. I complain on the way out the door and I check my iPhone every 7 minutes to see how much more time is left in the lesson. It's not that I don't enjoy my Monday student(s) it's that I'm exhausted. I've been out teaching all day, I have quizzes to grade, and my mind is a million other places. Who does that benefit? No one. Why did I do this to myself on a weekly basis last year? Because I thought setting personal boundaries would affect enrollment. It might. But walking into a lesson with anything less than 100% readiness and attentiveness is not the right approach. It's not fair to me and it's not fair to my students.

This year, I want to make more decisions. It begins with balancing my work schedule, setting goals, and sticking to my personal boundaries.

A Day in the Life

I am a freelance musician and largely self-employed.  I have five part-time jobs, all in music.  Christmas is the busiest time of the year.  What does a “normal” work day look like?  Let me give you a little glimpse!  Tuesdays are generally a balance of church work, private teaching, and a little administrative work for some of my other professional work and yesterday was no exception!  This was my day:

*            *            *            *            *

8:45-9:30 a.m.: catch-up with emails, editing, run/walk down to the church

9:30-10 a.m.: worship planning meeting with the pastor (we have six services on our plates right now!)

10 a.m.-12 p.m.: staff meeting regarding last Sunday and this Sunday

12-12:15 p.m.: formatting for this Sunday’s and next Sunday’s bulletins

12:15-1:00 p.m.: children’s choir planning meeting with the C.E. Director

1-1:30 p.m.: walk home, lunch, Post Office run (our midday walk), dry cleaning

1:30-4:30 p.m.: emails, update WCMW Concert Calendar, paperwork, pay bills, more editing, research

4:30-5:30 p.m.: walk to church, teach piano lessons

5:30-6:15 p.m.: file Sanctuary Choir music from Sunday, organize my music for the next few weeks of services, practice music for Sunday

6:15-7:00 p.m.: teach piano lessons, coach duet

7-7:30 p.m.: straighten up the Sanctuary, walk home, skim Christmas catalogs (J.Crew red leather gloves, anyone?), catch up with SD

7:30-8 p.m.: dinner+glass of chardonnay

8-8:30 p.m.: wash/dry the dishes, run to Vincent’s for cookies (we are so spoiled having a grocery store across the street!)

8:30-9 p.m.: take a break, watch The Office

9-10:45 p.m.: write, send/respond to emails, make lists for tomorrow, work on Christmas presents!

iTeach

Look at me writing a post from my phone!  That’s right – you’re looking at the newest member of the iPhone club!  From FaceTime to iMessage to real-time traffic reports to web-surfing that’s faster than my laptop, I am a huge fan.  I can keep up with my emails on the go, update Twitter and Facebook in one fell swoop, and of course, write these fun updates for y’all while I’m traveling!

In addition to the personal and professional benefits, I’ve been experimenting with the iPhone as a teaching tool.  Last week, I introduced “Model T” from The Music Tree: Part I to a student for the first time.  We identified the rhythm and tonal patterns but when it came time to put everything together, I realized my student didn’t know what a Model T was.  Have no fear, the iPhone is here!  I quickly looked up a picture and a short Wikipedia article to share and discuss for a moment.  Following this teaching moment, the tempo indication, “bumping along” made much for sense!

A few days later, I had a high school student working on “Minuet en rondeau” by Jean-Philippe Rameau.  “Keyboard music from this period would have been written for what instrument?” I asked.  After a moment of thought, she shrugged.  “The harpsichord,” I said.  In order to dispel the notion that the harpsichord was played vertically like a harp, I quickly pulled out my phone, looked up a picture, and found a video performance of a 2-manual harpsichord so she could see and hear the instrument in action.  This opened the door for a conversation in stylistic interpretation, articulation choices, and the historical differences in instrument construction.  Now she recognizes that the ornamentation has a practical benefit as well as a decorative one.

Tonight, I plan to bring this recording of “While By My Sheep” into choir practice.  I think I’ll use my iPhone.

Image Credit: Jen Shenk

Dream Big

It’s one of those statements that caught me a little off-guard when I first read it: “If your dreams don’t scare you, they’re not big enough.”  I thought dreams were supposed to be free and simple, floating in a blue sky like white, puffy clouds.  Uninhibited.  Undefined.  The thought of being scared by my dreams surprised me at first.  Who’s scared of a white, puffy cloud? It was cause for thought.  What are my dreams?  How big are they?  How real are they?  Everyone has a “someday” list.  Someday, I’d like to live in a brick townhouse on Park Avenue-esque street.  Will I ever live in a house like this?  Maybe.  Am I actively pursuing it?  No.  As I interrogated myself, I realized this really doesn’t qualify as a dream.  A dream requires goal-setting and small action steps.  White, puffy clouds aside, what are my real dreams and how am I actively pursuing them?

Last year, I dreamt of teaching at the college level.  Fourteen months later, I am in my third semester of adjunct teaching and was recently asked to prepare a new class for the spring.  Exciting, yes.  A great opportunity, yes.  Daunting, yes.  A dream that scares me, yes.  Let’s be honest – I had a mini meltdown just thinking about it this morning.  “When will I have time between now and then to read through three textbooks?  How will I be able to write out all of my lectures, make slides, and come up with assignments on top of my current teaching load?” I lamented.  The answer is simple in hindsight: action steps.

1. Make an outline of the chapters in each textbook. 2. Distribute chapter reading over course of semester (how many chapters on average per week?) 3. Skim each chapter and pull out relevant information. 4. Determine measures for evaluation (quizzes, tests, papers, projects, presentations, etc.) 5. Create measures for evaluation 6. Determine presentation methods (combination of lecture, slides, music listening, student presentations, etc.)

I remember how I felt in the weeks prior to my first day of college teaching (late last summer).  Expecting the unexpected.  Uncertain but confident.

Do your dreams have limits?  Are they bigger than life?  Do they scare you just a little bit?  Dream big – what do we have to lose?

Daydreams

*Disclosure: I get commissions for purchases made through links in this post.

This was the name of the piece I assigned to Bobby last week. Bobby is a well-mannered redhead, autistic, and in the 8th grade.

Now in our third month of lessons, this piece from The Music Tree, Part I is four measures long with three 4-beat patterns total. Bobby immediately brought his hands up to the keyboard and played through the piece, aggressively. Looking at me briefly for approval, I pointed to the page and said, "What about this half note?" "Oh yeah," he said quickly, replacing his hands on the keys.

Again, he played through the piece, correcting his position when he realized he was off by a step. He began again. I could tell by his body language that he was just not in the mood to play music off the page. In a moment of hesitation, Bobby suddenly diverged into another register and musical atmosphere completely, though I recognized a few patterns from "Daydreams."

"Why don't you play this version of 'Daydreams' and then play me your version based on some of these patterns," I suggested. Forcefully, he again played the four bars, struggling to keep the rhythm going. "Okay," I said. "Now play your version of 'Daydreams.'" With no hesitation, Bobby brought both hands up to the keyboard in a fell swoop and began playing his improvisation. Both feet immediately moved to the una corda and sostenuto pedals and he experimented with the change in sound with unabashed confidence.

I listened intently to the layers of sound — covering the extremities of the keyboard — very carefully placed and intentional. In some cases, it was musical babble; in others, it was very much an embellishment of the original piece. Amidst the glissandi (yes, glissandi) up and down the keyboard, the cluster chords, the quick flourishes, and even a theme from the improvisation he played for me last week (I was amazed that he incorporated this), Bobby returned to the original "Daydreams" again and again. "He gets it," I thought to myself. 

Sometimes, the patterns were played softly in the upper register (above the wash of sound he created with the pedal) and sometimes he augmented them slightly in the middle register. I also noticed a few black-key motives from his improvisation last week making a reappearance in this new context. It was fascinating to see and hear his creativity.

After a couple of minutes, I thought to myself, "How long should I let this improvisation activity last? There are other pieces I'd like to get to in this lesson. How do I know when he's at the end?" At a seemingly logical stopping place, I interjected, "That's great Bobby! I love your interpretation of 'Daydreams,'" but he simply glanced up at me and continued on with his improvisation. I quickly realized that this was a valuable teaching moment and a perfectly appropriate way to spend our lesson time. I listened to Bobby's use of tonal patterns, rhythms, and repetition. I watched him play. He was into it. He was making music. He was incorporating things we had learned but he was making it his own. When he arrived at the end of his improvisation, I knew it was complete.

We finished the lesson with a few activities from the lesson book but I was struck by what I had just witnessed. I wondered if others would hear the things that I heard — the creativity, the sensitivity, the synthesis. I learned something new today about music as a language.

First Day of School

It's my first day of school today - second year as a professor!  What a different world it is to spend the last few weeks of summer checking enrollment, revising a syllabus, triple-checking all the technology in the classroom, and writing lesson plans.

There's something very exciting to me about this world of academia.  Students criss-crossing over the quad; tall, ivy-covered buildings; libraries full of books; the voices of lecturers drifting through the hallway.  The pursuit of knowledge can be a very exciting one if you put your mind to learning.  As I approach the academic world from "the other side," I feel like one of my primary goals as a teacher is to inspire learning.  I want my students to succeed and do well but I want them to truly desire learning most of all.  As I told a student today, I truly believe you can be as successful as you want to be.  How do you teach this level of commitment and strength of will?  How do you develop independent learners?  So you see, even professors have much still to learn.

This afternoon, I'll meet the five bright-eyed students currently enrolled in my class (as of 10:19 p.m. last night); dive into our thick, spiral-bound textbook; and pray for no major technology failures.  However, seeing as how technology is not always on our my side, the backup plan is to play "air piano" and play multiple rounds of "rhythm editing" - a sure crowd-pleaser.  Don't you wish you were in my class?!

Image Credit: personal

Preparing to Perform

This past weekend, Steve and I held a joint studio recital (our first!) at the church.  We had almost a dozen students sign up to participate and we've spent the past several weeks of lessons trying to prepare them to perform (for many, this was a first).

How do we prepare to perform?  We do warm-ups, technical exercises, and breathing exercises (for saxophone players, that is!); we practice pedaling in our shoes; we learn how to sit properly, stand properly, bow properly; we practice bringing our hands up to the keyboard and away at the end of a piece; we practice from memory; we perform in front of others; we strive to keep going no matter what happens.  I think this last item is one of the more difficult ones.  Our initial, natural response seems to be to freeze - as if to think, "Did anyone hear that?"

After many recital experiences of my own (including my 2nd grade horror story of completely blanking on Minuet 2), I feel as if I learn something new about myself each time.  There's only so much one can do to prepare for something.  Preparing to perform is no different.  As a teacher, I try to instill confidence, teach professionalism, train memory skills, and encourage students to be the best they can be.  Though, isn't it true that until we experience that rush of excitement and nerves and the flutter of muscles while playing (I have many stories of shaky hands and jittery legs), we don't fully know how to prepare to perform?  For many, myself included, it's a face-to-face confrontation with fear.  It's not about being perfect and not making any mistakes.  It's about communicating with others, sharing music, and overcoming ourselves.

How do you prepare to perform?