How did that happen? Suddenly, it's autumn. It's my favorite season. Every year at this time, I'm grateful that I have a job that is somewhat dependent on the school year. It ensures that every September, I get to have that "new beginnings" feeling. In the two weeks since I've been home from Banff (which continued to be an amazing experience -- more posts on that to come), I've been organizing my schedule of performances and students for the upcoming season. Many returning students, a few new ones, including three boys!
It's funny, I'd been working all summer under the assumption that this year was fairly light for me, performance wise, but as I was updating my website last week, I realized that I'm actually extremely busy! A nice realization to come to. Not a lot of opera this year, but the role I'm scheduled for is one that I'm really excited about -- Donna Elvira in Don Giovanni. I had been nervous about it, since it's traditionally sung by sopranos, but I had the good fortune to study this summer with fabulous mezzo Judith Forst, who has sung the role many times, and convinced me that we high mezzos can do it! I've been working on it, and so far, so good! I'm hoping to be able to coach with Judith on it a few times before rehearsals begin in the spring. It's the perfect setting to try the role out -- with the puppet opera! I can't imagine a more fun, joyful, supportive environment.
Most of my season this year is concerts and recitals, which is just fine by me. Next week, I'm headed to Victoria, BC to do a recital at my alma mater, with my piano professor at the keyboard! I was invited to come up as a guest artist, and it feels like I'm coming full circle in a way. I'm singing some of my favorite pieces -- Mahler's Lieder Eines Fahrenden Gesellen, Debussy's Chansons de Bilitis, and Britten's A Charm of Lullabies. Then, my first Elijah in October, more recitals (Mahler and Brahms) in late October, and two different Messiahs in December. One is with a chamber orchestra and chorus, which should be particularly fun.
In the middle of all this are some pops concerts with the Seattle Symphony, previews of Seattle Opera's upcoming Iphigenia in Tauris (I'm singing Iphigenia), some film score work (listen for the Hallelujia chorus parody in the Shrek Christmas special this winter!), and two shows in the Seattle Opera chorus (Pagliacci and Tosca). I've never done any opera chorus work before, so I'm giving it a try.
So, I'm a busy girl! It seems like a great variety -- all of it fun!
Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Thursday, October 26, 2006
well, I think I look at least 21...
I was leaving my lessons yesterday, walking through the schoolyard, and a kindergartner stopped me:
boy: "Hey! Do you remember that time when you subbed for us in Miss L's music class?"
me: "Yes, I do."
boy: "Are you Willa's mom?"
me: "nope."
boy: "Well, who's mom are you?"
me: "I'm nobody's mom."
boy: "Oh, because you're just a teenager, right?"
me: (laughing) "No, I'm not a teenager."
boy: (confused) "Oh. Well, you look like a teenager!"
SWEET!!!
boy: "Hey! Do you remember that time when you subbed for us in Miss L's music class?"
me: "Yes, I do."
boy: "Are you Willa's mom?"
me: "nope."
boy: "Well, who's mom are you?"
me: "I'm nobody's mom."
boy: "Oh, because you're just a teenager, right?"
me: (laughing) "No, I'm not a teenager."
boy: (confused) "Oh. Well, you look like a teenager!"
SWEET!!!
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
stickers
My younger piano students (mostly girls, between the ages of 5 and 10) all receive a sticker at the end of each lesson. I keep a large assortment, and they use them to decorate their lesson books. I must say, this is not entirely selfless on my part -- I get at least as much amusement out of it as they do.
My first lesson on Mondays is with R, a 5-year old blond princess with one of those high, squeaky voices that only a 5-year old blond princess can have. Her parents are from South Africa, and though she has lived here most of her life, she still has a very strong (and adorable) South-African accent, probably due to the fact that she goes to a French-speaking school and doesn't watch much tv, so the only English she really hears on a regular basis is from her parents, who also have accents. In any case, she chooses her stickers in pairs, always with the following week in mind, and the pattern on the cover of her book is completely symmetrical in a way I didn't even know kindergartners were capable of. Two pink fairies in the top corners, two bumblebees in the bottom corners. A tropical fish dead center, and two sparkly butterflies evenly spaced on either side of him. She's very serious about choosing. For example, with the sparkly butterflies (one of which she chose yesterday), she carefully examined each one on the sheet to find one who's color and size closely matched the one she already had, then carefully placed it at a slight angle on the book to create a perfect mirror image.
Next I have E and T, two friends who both have their lessons at E's house every week. E is a year older and usually goes first. She is a very grown-up 3rd grader now, and has been taking lessons quite a bit longer than T, who just started 2nd grade. I often have to subtly and gently remind E that T doesn't need her extremely helpful hints and advice during her lesson. Both of the girls have sticker collections, so they take their stickers and save them to use in art projects or other books later on instead of putting them on their piano books. Not surprisingly, T watches carefully to see what sticker E has chosen and then often chooses the same kind. :)
I buy most of my stickers from the same drugstore, and lots of them are a brand called "Stickeroni," where each sheet has a "bonus" sticker on the bottom left hand corner of a piece of macaroni with arms and legs that somehow matches the theme of the stickers (on the butterfly stickers, the macaroni has a little butterfly net, and on the tropical fish, the macaroni has a scuba mask). A, who comes on Wednesdays, has almost exclusively these macaroni stickers on her book, and is always slightly disappointed if I'm out of them. If macaroni is not an option, she tends to choose small stickers (sea shells or little hearts or stars), which will decorate her book without detracting from her little macaroni family, which takes center stage.
K, my only boy right now, likes to put his stickers on the inside cover of his book, and goes in phases. First, he liked fish, then frogs, and lately he's very in to Sponge Bob Squarepants. Every week, he counts the stickers to see how many lessons he has had in this book, then counts the number of songs left to try to determine how many stickers he will have before he moves on to the next level.
O and S are second-graders and friends who come back to back on Thursdays. They like to spread out all the sheets on the piano bench, so as not to miss any great stickers that might be hiding. Then, they look at their books to see if there are any they don't have yet. Then, they pick the "cutest one." O's little sister, who is 4 and doesn't take piano (yet), often stands quietly nearby and watches, hoping to get a sticker, too. (she usually does -- I'm a softie, what can I say?)
T is the oldest of the bunch (10, and just starting 5th grade), and has been my student since she was 4, when I had just finished graduate school. Needless to say, I have a tender spot in my heart for her, having watched her grow up and progress over the years. She is getting more advanced now, and is no longer using method books, but instead has several books of piano literature and theory, which are decorated with well thought-out scenes. A frog is playing the piano while Spongebob sits on it, singing. A school of fish is swimming through the under-water picture on the front of her theory book, and a family of monkeys is tumbling around through the title of her piano book. Several butterflies are floating in a group, and two fairies are having a conversation over a cup of tea.
Oh, yeah, and occasionally we play the piano, too. :)
My first lesson on Mondays is with R, a 5-year old blond princess with one of those high, squeaky voices that only a 5-year old blond princess can have. Her parents are from South Africa, and though she has lived here most of her life, she still has a very strong (and adorable) South-African accent, probably due to the fact that she goes to a French-speaking school and doesn't watch much tv, so the only English she really hears on a regular basis is from her parents, who also have accents. In any case, she chooses her stickers in pairs, always with the following week in mind, and the pattern on the cover of her book is completely symmetrical in a way I didn't even know kindergartners were capable of. Two pink fairies in the top corners, two bumblebees in the bottom corners. A tropical fish dead center, and two sparkly butterflies evenly spaced on either side of him. She's very serious about choosing. For example, with the sparkly butterflies (one of which she chose yesterday), she carefully examined each one on the sheet to find one who's color and size closely matched the one she already had, then carefully placed it at a slight angle on the book to create a perfect mirror image.
Next I have E and T, two friends who both have their lessons at E's house every week. E is a year older and usually goes first. She is a very grown-up 3rd grader now, and has been taking lessons quite a bit longer than T, who just started 2nd grade. I often have to subtly and gently remind E that T doesn't need her extremely helpful hints and advice during her lesson. Both of the girls have sticker collections, so they take their stickers and save them to use in art projects or other books later on instead of putting them on their piano books. Not surprisingly, T watches carefully to see what sticker E has chosen and then often chooses the same kind. :)
I buy most of my stickers from the same drugstore, and lots of them are a brand called "Stickeroni," where each sheet has a "bonus" sticker on the bottom left hand corner of a piece of macaroni with arms and legs that somehow matches the theme of the stickers (on the butterfly stickers, the macaroni has a little butterfly net, and on the tropical fish, the macaroni has a scuba mask). A, who comes on Wednesdays, has almost exclusively these macaroni stickers on her book, and is always slightly disappointed if I'm out of them. If macaroni is not an option, she tends to choose small stickers (sea shells or little hearts or stars), which will decorate her book without detracting from her little macaroni family, which takes center stage.
K, my only boy right now, likes to put his stickers on the inside cover of his book, and goes in phases. First, he liked fish, then frogs, and lately he's very in to Sponge Bob Squarepants. Every week, he counts the stickers to see how many lessons he has had in this book, then counts the number of songs left to try to determine how many stickers he will have before he moves on to the next level.
O and S are second-graders and friends who come back to back on Thursdays. They like to spread out all the sheets on the piano bench, so as not to miss any great stickers that might be hiding. Then, they look at their books to see if there are any they don't have yet. Then, they pick the "cutest one." O's little sister, who is 4 and doesn't take piano (yet), often stands quietly nearby and watches, hoping to get a sticker, too. (she usually does -- I'm a softie, what can I say?)
T is the oldest of the bunch (10, and just starting 5th grade), and has been my student since she was 4, when I had just finished graduate school. Needless to say, I have a tender spot in my heart for her, having watched her grow up and progress over the years. She is getting more advanced now, and is no longer using method books, but instead has several books of piano literature and theory, which are decorated with well thought-out scenes. A frog is playing the piano while Spongebob sits on it, singing. A school of fish is swimming through the under-water picture on the front of her theory book, and a family of monkeys is tumbling around through the title of her piano book. Several butterflies are floating in a group, and two fairies are having a conversation over a cup of tea.
Oh, yeah, and occasionally we play the piano, too. :)
Monday, September 18, 2006
a good reminder
I feel almost caught up with the things that piled up while I was away, and fall is in full swing. I started teaching my piano students last week, though this was the first day I saw my Monday students, as I didn't get home until last Monday evening. Most of my students are young beginners, between the ages of 5 and 8, and Mondays are no exception. I like working with the young ones. I seem to have a good rapport with them, and they, for the most part, are happy to be taking lessons and come excited to learn and excited about music, which is really the most important thing to me. However, my last lesson on Mondays this year is a high school student. She took lessons with me for about 6 months a couple of years ago, and now she's back.
Two years ago, she was thirteen years old, and had just moved to Seattle from a suburb where she had been living with her mom. I don't know any details, but I got the impression that the living situation was not ideal, and she and her brother had moved to the city to live with their dad, a single parent. She was starting high school a year early, and in a much more urban environment than she was used to. When I first met her, she was painfully shy, withdrawn, totally uncomfortable in her body, and seemed to be very unhappy. She would occasionally cry in her lessons, not because she was frustrated, but (I think) because music was giving her an outlet that she wasn't getting anywhere else. She loved to play all kinds of music, especially Chopin, and also played the cello. At the end of the school year, she stopped taking lessons, a combination of financial and time reasons, I think, but really wanted to keep playing, so I made her a bunch of photocopies of things that appealed to her from my collection and sent her on her way. I've often thought about her, wondering how she was doing.
About six weeks ago, she called me and wanted to schedule lessons for the fall. Her grandmother had paid for several months of lessons for her birthday. Our first lesson was today. I arrived at her house this afternoon, and the door flew open to reveal a lovely, happy, and confident young woman who was absolutely beaming at the prospect of a piano lesson. She was articulate and well-adjusted and seemed totally comfortable with herself. She had learned several pieces on her own, and was completely excited to get feedback on them and make them better. And, she had made a (long) list of pieces that she wants to learn. I have most of them at home and will bring them next time.
Even now, hours later, I am close to tears thinking about it. Every now and then I'm reminded that the healing and transformative powers of music go so far beyond what I can imagine, and that's why I teach and perform. A good thing to be reminded of at the start of a new year.
Two years ago, she was thirteen years old, and had just moved to Seattle from a suburb where she had been living with her mom. I don't know any details, but I got the impression that the living situation was not ideal, and she and her brother had moved to the city to live with their dad, a single parent. She was starting high school a year early, and in a much more urban environment than she was used to. When I first met her, she was painfully shy, withdrawn, totally uncomfortable in her body, and seemed to be very unhappy. She would occasionally cry in her lessons, not because she was frustrated, but (I think) because music was giving her an outlet that she wasn't getting anywhere else. She loved to play all kinds of music, especially Chopin, and also played the cello. At the end of the school year, she stopped taking lessons, a combination of financial and time reasons, I think, but really wanted to keep playing, so I made her a bunch of photocopies of things that appealed to her from my collection and sent her on her way. I've often thought about her, wondering how she was doing.
About six weeks ago, she called me and wanted to schedule lessons for the fall. Her grandmother had paid for several months of lessons for her birthday. Our first lesson was today. I arrived at her house this afternoon, and the door flew open to reveal a lovely, happy, and confident young woman who was absolutely beaming at the prospect of a piano lesson. She was articulate and well-adjusted and seemed totally comfortable with herself. She had learned several pieces on her own, and was completely excited to get feedback on them and make them better. And, she had made a (long) list of pieces that she wants to learn. I have most of them at home and will bring them next time.
Even now, hours later, I am close to tears thinking about it. Every now and then I'm reminded that the healing and transformative powers of music go so far beyond what I can imagine, and that's why I teach and perform. A good thing to be reminded of at the start of a new year.
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