I have loved Ilya Kaler's playing ever since his Schumann Violin Sonatas and Paganini Caprices on some early Naxos recordings arrived at the radio station where I worked at the end of the twentieth century. What a thrill it is to hear his particular old-world sound embrace Florence Price's new-world lyricism. And Rasa Vitkauskaite's piano playing is as thrilling to hear as Ilya Kaler's violin playing.
The sonata that Beethoven wrote for George Bridgetower that we know as the "Kreutzer" Sonata (even though Kreutzer never played it) is part of this series of recordings. You can listen to that recording here.
Tuesday, July 21, 2026
Monday, July 13, 2026
“Dear Lara”
I asked the Canadian violinist/filmmaker Lara St. John if I could have a chance to see her new documentary, which was streaming, for a short time, only in Canada, and is, fortunately, having a handful of showings in a few select theaters in the United States. She made it possible for me to watch it, and I watched it with Michael, who is writing a post about it as I type.
[His post is here.]
I have been following the subject, the proliferation of sexual abuse of young women by their conservatory professors, for my entire life. I was deeply aware of the behavior of powerful men in the world of classical music when I was a child. It was sometimes even dinner table conversation when I was a teenager.
When you watch the documentary you will see the widespread nature of this criminal behavior within a field that is supposed to be about finding truth and beauty. The irony!
One thing I did learn from the film that I hadn't known was that the financé of my fifth-grade stand-partner in All-city orchestra was being abused by her teacher (neither of us knew her then: she was eight when it started). I feel so deeply sad for my friend. Sexual abuse, or in this case rape, has a profound impact on the entire musical community and their families and friends.
The only spoilers I will give you are musical ones. The whole musical background for the film is amazing. It is perfectly in proportion, and has fantastic playing, much of it by St. John. Never before have I experienced music that I know really well used as a narrative voice in a documentary in a way that transforms the way I think of the music.
The documentary style is honest, straightforward, comfortable, and relaxed: a perfect way to showcase dishonesty, ambiguous, uncomfortable, and tense. I wouldn't be surprised to see future films with St. John as either director or as the person running the music department. I also wouldn't be surprised if this film were to win a few major awards.
[His post is here.]
I have been following the subject, the proliferation of sexual abuse of young women by their conservatory professors, for my entire life. I was deeply aware of the behavior of powerful men in the world of classical music when I was a child. It was sometimes even dinner table conversation when I was a teenager.
When you watch the documentary you will see the widespread nature of this criminal behavior within a field that is supposed to be about finding truth and beauty. The irony!
One thing I did learn from the film that I hadn't known was that the financé of my fifth-grade stand-partner in All-city orchestra was being abused by her teacher (neither of us knew her then: she was eight when it started). I feel so deeply sad for my friend. Sexual abuse, or in this case rape, has a profound impact on the entire musical community and their families and friends.
The only spoilers I will give you are musical ones. The whole musical background for the film is amazing. It is perfectly in proportion, and has fantastic playing, much of it by St. John. Never before have I experienced music that I know really well used as a narrative voice in a documentary in a way that transforms the way I think of the music.
The documentary style is honest, straightforward, comfortable, and relaxed: a perfect way to showcase dishonesty, ambiguous, uncomfortable, and tense. I wouldn't be surprised to see future films with St. John as either director or as the person running the music department. I also wouldn't be surprised if this film were to win a few major awards.
Tuesday, July 07, 2026
Magical Musical Hospital Moment
While we were on our usual walk of the hospital hallways yesterday, I noticed that the exercise room door was open, and inside was a young woman with a violin. Indeed it was part of a hospital musical program where they have musicians play in various locations on various days.
Our first experience with this was hearing Spanish and Brazilian music played by a guitarist in the lobby of one of the non-hospital buildings. It was wonderful to hear, and when I asked him if he could play something for me by Paulo Bellinati, he did.
On our next lap I learned that the violinist would be playing from 2:00 until 3:00, so I came in to listen. She played a few pieces from the various Suzuki books. It was lovely. She played beautifully in tune, and she played in such a way that demonstrated her deep love of music.
When she started playing a movement from one of the Seitz Concertos, a piece I can play the accompaniment for, after teaching it so often, I asked her if she wanted me to accompany her on the piano. She loved the idea. I grabbed my iPad, and we began. But the electric piano was about a quarter tone low, and we didn't know how to adjust it. I didn't want to ask her to tune down, so I grabbed my violin (my room is a few doors down from the music room), and we played some duets.
I had "Weights and Measures" on my iPad, so we played a few of those. I let her know that I wrote them, and explained how they worked as scale pieces. I hadn't ever played them with such a good violinist, and hadn't played them in a very long time as duet pieces. It was a real treat for me.
At around 3:00 a few of her friends came by. They were all college students working in the hospital for the summer while they were home in Chicago. They might have had other duties in the hospital, but they were all musicians. One was a pianist and a bass player, and the other was a violist.
The violinist told her friends that I had written the music we were playing, and it was clear to me that none of these young people had the sense that it was unusual in any way for a composer to be a woman. I asked the violist what he was working on, and the last piece he played was by Rebecca Clarke. The bass player had just played the Rachmaninoff Second Piano Concerto for the first time in her life, and was thrilled by the experience.
The violist and I talked about repertoire, and I learned about a new/old/obscure viola composer (new-to-me) from him: I. Chandoschkin (1747-1804), a Soviet "creation." I am excited to do a deep dive into learning about this person.
I was thrilled and enchanted by these young musicians, and I somehow feel, in the not-yet-engrafted marrow of my bones, that "the kids are alright," at least the kids that have music running through their veins,
Our first experience with this was hearing Spanish and Brazilian music played by a guitarist in the lobby of one of the non-hospital buildings. It was wonderful to hear, and when I asked him if he could play something for me by Paulo Bellinati, he did.
On our next lap I learned that the violinist would be playing from 2:00 until 3:00, so I came in to listen. She played a few pieces from the various Suzuki books. It was lovely. She played beautifully in tune, and she played in such a way that demonstrated her deep love of music.
When she started playing a movement from one of the Seitz Concertos, a piece I can play the accompaniment for, after teaching it so often, I asked her if she wanted me to accompany her on the piano. She loved the idea. I grabbed my iPad, and we began. But the electric piano was about a quarter tone low, and we didn't know how to adjust it. I didn't want to ask her to tune down, so I grabbed my violin (my room is a few doors down from the music room), and we played some duets.
I had "Weights and Measures" on my iPad, so we played a few of those. I let her know that I wrote them, and explained how they worked as scale pieces. I hadn't ever played them with such a good violinist, and hadn't played them in a very long time as duet pieces. It was a real treat for me.
At around 3:00 a few of her friends came by. They were all college students working in the hospital for the summer while they were home in Chicago. They might have had other duties in the hospital, but they were all musicians. One was a pianist and a bass player, and the other was a violist.
The violinist told her friends that I had written the music we were playing, and it was clear to me that none of these young people had the sense that it was unusual in any way for a composer to be a woman. I asked the violist what he was working on, and the last piece he played was by Rebecca Clarke. The bass player had just played the Rachmaninoff Second Piano Concerto for the first time in her life, and was thrilled by the experience.
The violist and I talked about repertoire, and I learned about a new/old/obscure viola composer (new-to-me) from him: I. Chandoschkin (1747-1804), a Soviet "creation." I am excited to do a deep dive into learning about this person.
I was thrilled and enchanted by these young musicians, and I somehow feel, in the not-yet-engrafted marrow of my bones, that "the kids are alright," at least the kids that have music running through their veins,
Sunday, July 05, 2026
Charles Dickens and Pauline Viardot!
Imagine my surprise when coming upon this passage in David Copperfield:
I'm rather new to Dickens, and though I have certainly observed that he had a great enjoyment of music, I never would have imagined that he would have been close friends with Pauline Viardot. He first met her after a performance of Gluck's Orphée, (she played the title role, which is written for a mezzo-soprano) and Dickens wrote about the encounter to his friend John Forster (Nonesuch Letters, 3.322):
Shortly after finishing Bleak House I had the idea of writing some musical character studies featuring characters in the novel, but now that I am in the middle of David Copperfield, my cast of possible musical characters has expanded a great deal.
Once I get out of the hospital and my stay close to the hospital (on 53rd Street in Chicago), and can get my hands on my viola d'amore, I will get to work on a piece for three violas d'amore (to be played at the 2027 viola d'amore congress) inspired by some of the characters I have come to know.
I am certainly not the first person to do this, but I might be the first to write Dickens-inspired pieces for three violas d'amore. I do imagine that Dickens would be enchanted by the instrument.
Here is a passage from a paper by Charles Cudworth that was published in the June, 1970 edition of The Musical Times (Vol. 111, p. 589):
"I came out to inquire whether Annie would like to go to the opera tonight," said Mr. Maldon, turning to her. "It's the last good night there will be, this season; and there's a singer there, whom she really ought to hear. She is perfectly exquisite. Besides which, she is so charmingly ugly," relapsing into languor.The only singer contemporary to Dickens it could be would have to be Pauline Viardot.
I'm rather new to Dickens, and though I have certainly observed that he had a great enjoyment of music, I never would have imagined that he would have been close friends with Pauline Viardot. He first met her after a performance of Gluck's Orphée, (she played the title role, which is written for a mezzo-soprano) and Dickens wrote about the encounter to his friend John Forster (Nonesuch Letters, 3.322):
Last night I saw Madame Viardot do Gluck's Orphée. It is a most extrordinary performance--pathetic in the highest degree, and full of quite sublime acting. Though it is unapproachably fine from first to last, the beginning of it, at the tomb of Eurydice, is a thing that I cannot remember at this moment of writing, without emotion. It is the finest presentation of grief that I can imagine. And when she has received hope from the Gods, and encouragement to go into the other world and seek Eurydice, Viardot's manner of taking the relinquished lyre from the tomb, and becoming radiant again, is most noble. Also she recognizes Eurydice's touch, when at length the hand is put in hers from behind, like a most transcendant [sic] genius. And when, yielding to Eurydice's entreaties she has turned round and slain her with a look, her despair over the body is grand in the extreme. It is worth a journey to Paris to see, for there is no such Art to be otherwise looked upon. Her husband stumbled over me by mere chance, and took me to her dressing-room. Nothing could have happened better as a genuine homage to the performance, for I was disfigured with crying.They soon became very close friends.
Shortly after finishing Bleak House I had the idea of writing some musical character studies featuring characters in the novel, but now that I am in the middle of David Copperfield, my cast of possible musical characters has expanded a great deal.
Once I get out of the hospital and my stay close to the hospital (on 53rd Street in Chicago), and can get my hands on my viola d'amore, I will get to work on a piece for three violas d'amore (to be played at the 2027 viola d'amore congress) inspired by some of the characters I have come to know.
I am certainly not the first person to do this, but I might be the first to write Dickens-inspired pieces for three violas d'amore. I do imagine that Dickens would be enchanted by the instrument.
Here is a passage from a paper by Charles Cudworth that was published in the June, 1970 edition of The Musical Times (Vol. 111, p. 589):
Dickens was not only intersted in music himself; he also provoked music in others. During his lifetime, his novels fostered some curious musical offspring, such as The David Copperfield Polka and The Barnaby Rudge Tarantelle, to say nothing of The Micawber Quadrille, "played in the drama of Little Em'ly, at the Olympic Theatre," in 1869.
Thursday, July 02, 2026
Scenes from the Hospital on my "Birthday"
Today I get five bags of stem cells pumped into my system. I believe they start going in shortly before lunchtime, which gives me time to go to the exercise room, which has a piano to play. There is also a music stand in there, so I don't need to assemble and take down my heavy folding stand, and risk getting another pinching bruise.
I showed the physical therapist, who gave me goals for walking and brought me to the above-mentioned exercise room (which is very close to my room), my Sigo tenor recorder, which requires a fairly large inhalation (like 2000 ml of air to make a good sound). She thought it might be a great research project for people involved in physical therapy.
I hope that other musicians going through stem cell transplants might be encouraged to try instrument as part of their recovery process.
Michael and I have been playing together every evening after dinner (Sigo and guitar), but tonight, now that my port insertion is healed, I can play violin too.
The "birthday" in the title of this post means that my immune system is like that of a newborn baby today. It is called "Day Zero." I probably won't post much during the rest of this week since my energy level will be very low, but I will do my best. Connecting with people, and particularly with musicians, really does help.
Monday, June 29, 2026
Harper Theater in Chicago
Some of my friends who have given performances of Price's Adoration have sent me video recordings which I have been listening to in the my Chicago hotel room (using headphones, of course) while Michael sleeps. Festivities over at the hospital begin this morning at 10:00 (labs, an appointment with my doctor, and a procedure to insert a port under my right collarbone for the chemotherapy I will get tomorrow and then for the stem cells that will follow the next day).
Our hotel, on Harper Court and 53rd Street is located in what feels like the center of the universe. Last night we walked across the street to Virtue, where we had a remarkable dinner, and this evening we are planning to cross the same street and see Toy Story 5 at the Harper Theater.
I have had this constant thought over the past several months that Florence Price, who lived on the south side of Chicago, and played the organ in movie theaters, might have worked in this neighborhood. I wonder if she ever played at the Harper. And while doing all this wondering, I can't seem to figure out any reason why she wouldn't have.
The theater was built in 1913 as a vaudeville house and became a movie theater in 1935. You can read a little about it here. It had a Kimball organ. Florence Price was an organist and a composer, who certainly would have been able to improvise accompaniments to the silent movies that would have been shown at the Harper.
Here is a Facebook page about the Harper that has a great photo (I can't figure out how to include it in this post using hotel wifi). And here's a 2008 post in Hyde Park Progress (long live the blogosphere) that has a great deal of information about the Harper Theater.
Our hotel, on Harper Court and 53rd Street is located in what feels like the center of the universe. Last night we walked across the street to Virtue, where we had a remarkable dinner, and this evening we are planning to cross the same street and see Toy Story 5 at the Harper Theater.
I have had this constant thought over the past several months that Florence Price, who lived on the south side of Chicago, and played the organ in movie theaters, might have worked in this neighborhood. I wonder if she ever played at the Harper. And while doing all this wondering, I can't seem to figure out any reason why she wouldn't have.
The theater was built in 1913 as a vaudeville house and became a movie theater in 1935. You can read a little about it here. It had a Kimball organ. Florence Price was an organist and a composer, who certainly would have been able to improvise accompaniments to the silent movies that would have been shown at the Harper.
Here is a Facebook page about the Harper that has a great photo (I can't figure out how to include it in this post using hotel wifi). And here's a 2008 post in Hyde Park Progress (long live the blogosphere) that has a great deal of information about the Harper Theater.
Saturday, June 20, 2026
What a Concert!
The above video is set to start where my transcription of Florence Price's "Adoration" starts, but do listen to the rest of the concert, particularly concertmaster Albena Danailova's performance of the violin solo in Massenet's "Méditation from Thaïs," and Bryn Terfel's performance of "If I Were a Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof.
I was deeply impressed with the way Lorenzo Viotti shaped the phrases of "Adoration." An arranger can only present possibilities, but a great conductor can take them where they need to go in order to sound their best. The experience of hearing the strings of the Vienna Philharmonic, an ensemble steeped in such a rich musical history, connect their hearts and souls collectively to the music of Florence Price was overwhelming. It also made me smile when I noticed a gentle touch of the special and inimatible lilt that is built into the orchestra's DNA.
And I am so pleased to share this excerpt from a review of the concert.
Who could ask for anything more?
I was deeply impressed with the way Lorenzo Viotti shaped the phrases of "Adoration." An arranger can only present possibilities, but a great conductor can take them where they need to go in order to sound their best. The experience of hearing the strings of the Vienna Philharmonic, an ensemble steeped in such a rich musical history, connect their hearts and souls collectively to the music of Florence Price was overwhelming. It also made me smile when I noticed a gentle touch of the special and inimatible lilt that is built into the orchestra's DNA.
And I am so pleased to share this excerpt from a review of the concert.
Friday, June 19, 2026
Florence Price on Juneteenth
We enjoyed watching and listening, by way of our television set, to the festivities over at the Obama Center yesterday, and though the time we will spend there this summer will be on the grounds and in the areas accessible to the public without tickets, we look forward to being able to get tickets and experience the whole center.
I understand that the musical choices made for the event were matters of personal taste (as musical choices always are and really always should be). But somehow musical traditions that are not necessarily popular tend to get left off the list. Again and again. And again and again.
I hope that at some point the people who are responsible for music at the Obama Center learn about South Side resident Florence Price, who lived on South Calumet Avenue (3835--the building no longer exists) from 1927 until she died in 1953. She taught at the Abraham Lincoln Centre (700 East Oakwood Blvd., it was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright), a building that shares a spirit similar to that of the Obama Center.
[Update: I just learned that the Chicago Philharmonic is playing something by Price on their July 27th concert at the Obama Center.]
Tonight, in Vienna, Austria, the Vienna Philharmonic is playing my arrangement of Florence Price's "Adoration" as part of their Sommernachtskonzert at the Schönbrunn Palace Gardens in Vienna. The concert begins at 8:45 (Vienna time), and admission is free.
It might be broadcast live somewhere in the United States on PBS, but I don't think I will be able to hear it live because the actual time of the concert for me will be at 3:45 a.m. tomorrow. I'm sure there will be YouTube options available to see and hear tomorrow.
What a great addition to the celebration of Juneteenth this is, and what a message it sends to the larger world about an important American cultural voice that resonates in the hearts of everyone who hears it or plays it.
I can take credit for a couple of things: I happened to know about Florence Price through an article about her in a magazine devoted to the work of women in music, and found a PDF of her "Adoration" in its original form as an organ piece in the IMSLP.
I can take credit for instantly recognizing that "Adoration" was a great piece of music, and I can take credit for using my composing and arranging skills to make an arrangement for violin and piano that would sound as much like an organ with the melody in a violin stop as possible. I can take credit for making an arrangement for strings that can sound lovely when played by musicians at all levels of competence. And I can take credit for keeping the music (now in a dozen or so arrangements for different instruments) in the public domain, and making it accessible to musicians all over the world for free.
But the music itself: the melody, the harmony, the phrases, and the rhythms, are all Florence Price's. I just did some effective translation.
Maybe the community of people who care deeply about the music that matters to me is not necessarily a local one, anywhere. But as a person who wrote music, taught in the community, played piano and organ in movie theaters before movies had sound, and contributed in myriad undocumented ways to the life of people in Chicago, particularly, I imagine, in the South Side, it would be nice if an organization like the Obama Center could embrace and amplify Florence Price and her work.
I understand that the musical choices made for the event were matters of personal taste (as musical choices always are and really always should be). But somehow musical traditions that are not necessarily popular tend to get left off the list. Again and again. And again and again.
I hope that at some point the people who are responsible for music at the Obama Center learn about South Side resident Florence Price, who lived on South Calumet Avenue (3835--the building no longer exists) from 1927 until she died in 1953. She taught at the Abraham Lincoln Centre (700 East Oakwood Blvd., it was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright), a building that shares a spirit similar to that of the Obama Center.
[Update: I just learned that the Chicago Philharmonic is playing something by Price on their July 27th concert at the Obama Center.]
Tonight, in Vienna, Austria, the Vienna Philharmonic is playing my arrangement of Florence Price's "Adoration" as part of their Sommernachtskonzert at the Schönbrunn Palace Gardens in Vienna. The concert begins at 8:45 (Vienna time), and admission is free.
It might be broadcast live somewhere in the United States on PBS, but I don't think I will be able to hear it live because the actual time of the concert for me will be at 3:45 a.m. tomorrow. I'm sure there will be YouTube options available to see and hear tomorrow.
What a great addition to the celebration of Juneteenth this is, and what a message it sends to the larger world about an important American cultural voice that resonates in the hearts of everyone who hears it or plays it.
I can take credit for a couple of things: I happened to know about Florence Price through an article about her in a magazine devoted to the work of women in music, and found a PDF of her "Adoration" in its original form as an organ piece in the IMSLP.
I can take credit for instantly recognizing that "Adoration" was a great piece of music, and I can take credit for using my composing and arranging skills to make an arrangement for violin and piano that would sound as much like an organ with the melody in a violin stop as possible. I can take credit for making an arrangement for strings that can sound lovely when played by musicians at all levels of competence. And I can take credit for keeping the music (now in a dozen or so arrangements for different instruments) in the public domain, and making it accessible to musicians all over the world for free.
But the music itself: the melody, the harmony, the phrases, and the rhythms, are all Florence Price's. I just did some effective translation.
Maybe the community of people who care deeply about the music that matters to me is not necessarily a local one, anywhere. But as a person who wrote music, taught in the community, played piano and organ in movie theaters before movies had sound, and contributed in myriad undocumented ways to the life of people in Chicago, particularly, I imagine, in the South Side, it would be nice if an organization like the Obama Center could embrace and amplify Florence Price and her work.
Tuesday, June 16, 2026
Learning Analogy
My sometimes quiet, smart, and very musical ten-year-old recorder student always inspires me to figure out ways of explaining things. Today's challenge (for me) came from trying to understand why she remembered how to play pieces she practiced a while ago, but hadn't seen for a long time.
I suggested that how something goes in your brain makes a difference. And I went on to suggest that learning a piece of music carefully is kind of like folding clothes and putting them away in a drawer. When it comes time for you to wear a particular item of clothing again you strive to remember which drawer it is in, are happy to have found it, and then proceed to put it on.
With a piece of music or a difficult passage in a piece, I have found that the condition it was put into my brain is pretty much the same condition I find it in when I play it again. So a passage that I have notched carefully with the metronome so that I could play it in tune and in rhythm can surprise me by being far easier to play well when I remove it from its figurative drawer.
But a piece I basically sightread every time I play it still seems to hold its "wrinkles" no matter how many times I unearth it from the figurative pile on the floor. If I can even find it.
Things are different once I put the time and care into to "ironing" (practicing) those "wrinkles" out.
I suggested that how something goes in your brain makes a difference. And I went on to suggest that learning a piece of music carefully is kind of like folding clothes and putting them away in a drawer. When it comes time for you to wear a particular item of clothing again you strive to remember which drawer it is in, are happy to have found it, and then proceed to put it on.
With a piece of music or a difficult passage in a piece, I have found that the condition it was put into my brain is pretty much the same condition I find it in when I play it again. So a passage that I have notched carefully with the metronome so that I could play it in tune and in rhythm can surprise me by being far easier to play well when I remove it from its figurative drawer.
But a piece I basically sightread every time I play it still seems to hold its "wrinkles" no matter how many times I unearth it from the figurative pile on the floor. If I can even find it.
Things are different once I put the time and care into to "ironing" (practicing) those "wrinkles" out.
Monday, June 15, 2026
Richard Powers on the health of being moved
I was deeply moved by this paragraph in "The Parting Glass," Powers's contribution to Music and Mind, a 2024 collection of essays about music and health compiled and edited by Renée Fleming:
Countless clinical studies have now tied the secret of health to moving. There is also great health in being moved, something that produces similar physiology. Think about the old meanings buried in the eymology of "emotion." To move and feel are complements, and the emotion that a tune triggers is a tune-up in how to move more deeply through the wider world. Music makes us go somewhere. It propels us into new states, new vantages, new emotional affordances. If you ask a scientist why music is healthy, the answer will come in units of cortisol and heart rate and blood-oxygen levels. But if you ask this listener, I'd say that music is an off-line cognitive therapy. By making us sad in the absence of real tragedy, it leaves us more adept in sadness when life calls for the real thing.I can't recommend this book highly enough.
Thursday, June 11, 2026
New String Arrangements for 2026 Summer Strings
You can find links below to PDF files for these brand new (and road-tested) arrangements of pieces suitable for multi-level string ensembles to use for educational or recreational purposes.
If (a picture paints a thousand words)
Walking in the Air
Enchanted
March pour la Cérémonie des Turcs
Plaisir d’amour
The Lion Sleeps Tonight
Here Comes the Sun
Quand on s’promène au bord de l’eau
If I Were a Rich Man
If (a picture paints a thousand words)
Walking in the Air
Enchanted
March pour la Cérémonie des Turcs
Plaisir d’amour
The Lion Sleeps Tonight
Here Comes the Sun
Quand on s’promène au bord de l’eau
If I Were a Rich Man
Wednesday, June 10, 2026
Haydn vs. Mozart
I have spent weeks trying to figure out how best to finger and bow the first violin part of the D minor Mozart "Haydn" Quartet. After a lot of thought, and after a lot of practice, I have come up with some solutions that work for me. The piece has so many sudden changes in dynamics that require being in different parts of the bow for different outcomes.
When I play the piece tonight with my friends, I'm sure to learn that my choices might, hopefully only here and there, not have been the best.
But that's the thing: Mozart opens up possibilities with his music that require a great deal of creativity. Maybe that's why we keep trying to meet him halfway throughout our musical lives. So many of us return to the same pieces again and again, hoping to achieve cleaner articulation, longer and stronger phrases, and emotional understanding.
I can proudly speak from experience concerning Haydn because I have practiced and played (not performed, however) the first violin parts of all of his quartets. I have found that there is usually one clever technical solution that makes a challenging phrase flow naturally. As florid as his phrases look on the page, they are a graceful pleasure to play, once you figure out exactly how. And then I have found cases where a clever technical solution I have found in an opening movement makes its way through all four movements of a quartet. That always gives me a thrill.
Maybe Haydn wrote his quartets with the idea of providing a satisfying way for musicians to interact socially. There are deep (very deep) emotional periods, and there are serious contrapuntal challenges as well as modulations in and out of remote-seeming keys, but the balances always seem to have been worked out in the composition process. And the challenges in Haydn seem, at least to me, more like opportunities for interesting music making than the challenges in Mozart that address every musician's capacity in the ensemble for introspection and intensely dramatic personal musical expression.
. . . After playing last night I can report that most of my bowing choices did not work in context, and that it really didn't matter at all. A great time was had by all. What a fantastic piece of music!
When I play the piece tonight with my friends, I'm sure to learn that my choices might, hopefully only here and there, not have been the best.
But that's the thing: Mozart opens up possibilities with his music that require a great deal of creativity. Maybe that's why we keep trying to meet him halfway throughout our musical lives. So many of us return to the same pieces again and again, hoping to achieve cleaner articulation, longer and stronger phrases, and emotional understanding.
I can proudly speak from experience concerning Haydn because I have practiced and played (not performed, however) the first violin parts of all of his quartets. I have found that there is usually one clever technical solution that makes a challenging phrase flow naturally. As florid as his phrases look on the page, they are a graceful pleasure to play, once you figure out exactly how. And then I have found cases where a clever technical solution I have found in an opening movement makes its way through all four movements of a quartet. That always gives me a thrill.
Maybe Haydn wrote his quartets with the idea of providing a satisfying way for musicians to interact socially. There are deep (very deep) emotional periods, and there are serious contrapuntal challenges as well as modulations in and out of remote-seeming keys, but the balances always seem to have been worked out in the composition process. And the challenges in Haydn seem, at least to me, more like opportunities for interesting music making than the challenges in Mozart that address every musician's capacity in the ensemble for introspection and intensely dramatic personal musical expression.
. . . After playing last night I can report that most of my bowing choices did not work in context, and that it really didn't matter at all. A great time was had by all. What a fantastic piece of music!
Sunday, June 07, 2026
My Aunt Jeanne
I learned pretty much everything about the maternal side of the family from my aunt Jeanne, my mother's younger sister. Jeanne was born in 1940 in an apartment across the street from Jackson Park on the south side of Chicago. My grandparents spelled her name the typical way, but Jeanne preferred to spell it the way the French did. She idolized my mother, who was kind enough to include her in the various fanciful games she played with her sophisticated friends. Here she is as the character "it," the page turner.
You can see the whole photo tableau here.
Jeanne went on to study English at the University of Illinois in Urbana, and became an actress, an English teacher, and a director of drama productions at Nicholas Senn High School (several of her students mention her as favorite teacher in this link). She also did some professional acting in Chicago.
She visited us often when was a child. Aunt Jeanne taught me all about astrology, and she taught me how to read Tarot cards. I learned important things from her about the early life of my mysterious mother, who rarely talked about her childhood. Jeanne and her first husband Frank once took me on a hike up Mount Greylock, the highest mountain in Massachusetts, and they let me do the hike barefoot. I was probably eleven or twelve, and felt so incredibly fortunate to have such a cool aunt.
Mysticism ruled Jeanne's life, as did the phases of the moon.
She was a dedicated Rosicrucian. I spent one of my winter vacations with her in Chicago, and she took me to her Egyptian-themed lodge, but I was only permitted to enter the lobby.
She took me out to dinner at fabulous restaurants, and brought me to meet my great aunt Lil, my grandmother's sister. Great aunt Lil gave me a Persian lamb coat and a suitcase full of vintage clothes from the 1940s. Lil and her husband Mike loved to gamble, and they spent much of the year in Las Vegas.
My aunt's half sister Janie was the same age as my mother. My grandfather had two families on the same Chicago block. Eventually my grandmother divorced him, and after my mother and Jeanne were grown up she married a nice guy and moved to Florida.
Janie, who was very beautiful, worked as a waitress at the original Playboy Club in Chicago. After art school she left Chicago to work as a cocktail waitress in Las Vegas. Janie's mother, who was named Jane, became close with my aunt Jeanne when she was an adult.
I remember Jane calling Jeanne while I was there to ask her what phase the moon was in.
Jeanne, Janie, and June (my mother) remained close, and as older women they would meet once a year in Las Vegas. Janie died first, and my mother died in 2016.
Jeanne's life came to an end around May 27th, 2026. It is believed that she had a heart attack at home. A friend went to check in on her, and must have called the police when she didn't answer the door or her phone.
She lived a very full and a very colorful life, and I like to think that it was full and colorful until the very end.
I am writing this post for my own sense of closure, but I am also writing it so that former students and people who knew Jeanne (over the past eighty-six years she has been known as Jean Blume, Jeanne Blume, Jeanne Reckitt, Jeanne Reckitt-Castillo, and Jeanne Castillo) can find something about her on line. She never used a computer, never had anything to do with social media, and never even had an email address.
I did tell her about posting that picture of her as "It," ten years ago, and she was OK with it. She was acting in her first part.
Jeanne went on to study English at the University of Illinois in Urbana, and became an actress, an English teacher, and a director of drama productions at Nicholas Senn High School (several of her students mention her as favorite teacher in this link). She also did some professional acting in Chicago.
She visited us often when was a child. Aunt Jeanne taught me all about astrology, and she taught me how to read Tarot cards. I learned important things from her about the early life of my mysterious mother, who rarely talked about her childhood. Jeanne and her first husband Frank once took me on a hike up Mount Greylock, the highest mountain in Massachusetts, and they let me do the hike barefoot. I was probably eleven or twelve, and felt so incredibly fortunate to have such a cool aunt.
Mysticism ruled Jeanne's life, as did the phases of the moon.
She was a dedicated Rosicrucian. I spent one of my winter vacations with her in Chicago, and she took me to her Egyptian-themed lodge, but I was only permitted to enter the lobby.
She took me out to dinner at fabulous restaurants, and brought me to meet my great aunt Lil, my grandmother's sister. Great aunt Lil gave me a Persian lamb coat and a suitcase full of vintage clothes from the 1940s. Lil and her husband Mike loved to gamble, and they spent much of the year in Las Vegas.
My aunt's half sister Janie was the same age as my mother. My grandfather had two families on the same Chicago block. Eventually my grandmother divorced him, and after my mother and Jeanne were grown up she married a nice guy and moved to Florida.
Janie, who was very beautiful, worked as a waitress at the original Playboy Club in Chicago. After art school she left Chicago to work as a cocktail waitress in Las Vegas. Janie's mother, who was named Jane, became close with my aunt Jeanne when she was an adult.
I remember Jane calling Jeanne while I was there to ask her what phase the moon was in.
Jeanne, Janie, and June (my mother) remained close, and as older women they would meet once a year in Las Vegas. Janie died first, and my mother died in 2016.
Jeanne's life came to an end around May 27th, 2026. It is believed that she had a heart attack at home. A friend went to check in on her, and must have called the police when she didn't answer the door or her phone.
She lived a very full and a very colorful life, and I like to think that it was full and colorful until the very end.
I am writing this post for my own sense of closure, but I am also writing it so that former students and people who knew Jeanne (over the past eighty-six years she has been known as Jean Blume, Jeanne Blume, Jeanne Reckitt, Jeanne Reckitt-Castillo, and Jeanne Castillo) can find something about her on line. She never used a computer, never had anything to do with social media, and never even had an email address.
I did tell her about posting that picture of her as "It," ten years ago, and she was OK with it. She was acting in her first part.
Saturday, June 06, 2026
Left and Right (with a heart between)
This procedure, which required a lot of preparation, was very successful. The stem cells that the hospital harvested were immediately frozen. On June 30th (my mother's birthday) they will be thawed and pumped into my body with instructions to grow bone marrow.
For the first day of the procedure my left arm had to stay completely still while my blood circulated through a centrafugal machine. I could move my right arm (which also had an IV) to do whatever needed to be done hand-wise. I had to pay attention to my left arm and hand, though: when the machine beeped, I had to squeeze a flexible textured ball (probably silicone, definitely green). The beeping indicated that blood was not flowing the way it was supposed to flow.
The second day my right arm was the one staying still and squeezing the ball when necessary, and I could only use my left hand for the things that hands do.
I also needed to monitor both hands (on both days) for signs of tingling, so that my calcium and citrus levels could be adjusted. It was hard work, and I was at it for eight hours each day.
I woke up at home (yay) this morning with an odd feeling of heightened sensory awarness, which I attributed to getting a full night's sleep, after enduring insomnia from two days of stimulating injections given in the evening, which instructed my bones to release stem cells into my bloodstream.
After breakfast Michael set to work on fixing a fan that was making noise. He removed and cleaned the cap of the screw mechanism that attaches the blades to the motor, but he was baffled when he couldn't get the cap to screw back on.
Without even thinking about it I screwed cap on counter-clockwise. (Needless to say, he was impressed.)
Then, when I sat down at the piano to play some Haydn, I noticed that I had a much quicker left/right response than I have ever had, and that my hands were working together in a brand new way.
It was as if some kind of plaque had been cleaned from whatever it is that connects my brain to my hands. I also noticed that I had a more direct connection between my ear and my hands than I have ever had before while playing the piano.
I'm not supposed to play violin until this evening (twenty-four hours after my release from the hospital) because it would require arm strength to hold up the instrument and use the bow.
I'm excited to see what happens then, but for now I think I need a little nap before taking a walk (before it rains).
Wednesday, May 27, 2026
Feeling, Disease, and Anxiety
I have been feeling exceptionally well for a couple of weeks. The treatments for my multiple myeloma have pushed the level of cancer in my system way down, and though I sometimes feel a little bit tired (particularly when I do not have the "assistance" of steroids), I have been feeling rather normal.
Hot flashes and night sweats have returned with regularity, but the intense need to drink great amounts of water all day and all night have subsided. I have the occasional age-appropriate ache and pain, which I had trouble noticing when I had intense pain caused by the (now dead) tumor on my sacrum, and my regular doses of steroids and other anti-cancer medications.
Now, with the exception of a daily aspirin and thrice-daily doses of a drug that protects me from getting shingles, it is just me in my body for the rest of May. Then I have to inject myself with human growth hormone to prepare for next week's festivities: the harvest of stem cells for my bone marrow transplant at the end of June.
After the "harvest" my major task is to show up at the hospital for a big dose of chemotherapy to wipe out my (still a wee bit cancerous) bone marrow, and then build up my immune system after my harvested (and I guess cleared of cancer) stem cells get poured back into my system.
During the past few days I have noticed a kind of free-flowing anxiety surging through my system: anxiety about being in the right place at the right time, anxiety about packing everything I need for my time in the hospital and my time near the hospital, anxiety about cleaning, and anxiety about recovery.
I have also noticed that when I practice music that allows me to release emotional energy, I feel better. During the past six months or so, since cancer-related circumstances started taking over my life, I went through a period of relative emotional numbness that I found was relived by music. When I was playing, I felt alive. The feeling lasted for a while after playing, as long as I was thinking about the music I had been playing.
I also noticed that I could become emotionally connected to prose passages, people, and circumstances in the books I was reading.
This (now pretty much under control since I have been able to talk about it) anxiety could be happening because my body is no longer in a constant combat mode. I now have the leisure to feel, which I like to think of as a good thing.
Practicing now seems to be a little bit different from the way it felt a few weeks ago. I can think about the "how" of making a phrase sound better with more objectivity, which is something that makes practicing more productive than simply playing because I need some emotional relief.
Knowing where to be in the bow, for example, is something I can only accomplish through focused practice. And when I am in the anxiety-informed state of performing, the practicing I have done allows me to enter a more free-flowing and expressive state than I would be in if I hadn't practiced properly.
Hot flashes and night sweats have returned with regularity, but the intense need to drink great amounts of water all day and all night have subsided. I have the occasional age-appropriate ache and pain, which I had trouble noticing when I had intense pain caused by the (now dead) tumor on my sacrum, and my regular doses of steroids and other anti-cancer medications.
Now, with the exception of a daily aspirin and thrice-daily doses of a drug that protects me from getting shingles, it is just me in my body for the rest of May. Then I have to inject myself with human growth hormone to prepare for next week's festivities: the harvest of stem cells for my bone marrow transplant at the end of June.
After the "harvest" my major task is to show up at the hospital for a big dose of chemotherapy to wipe out my (still a wee bit cancerous) bone marrow, and then build up my immune system after my harvested (and I guess cleared of cancer) stem cells get poured back into my system.
During the past few days I have noticed a kind of free-flowing anxiety surging through my system: anxiety about being in the right place at the right time, anxiety about packing everything I need for my time in the hospital and my time near the hospital, anxiety about cleaning, and anxiety about recovery.
I have also noticed that when I practice music that allows me to release emotional energy, I feel better. During the past six months or so, since cancer-related circumstances started taking over my life, I went through a period of relative emotional numbness that I found was relived by music. When I was playing, I felt alive. The feeling lasted for a while after playing, as long as I was thinking about the music I had been playing.
I also noticed that I could become emotionally connected to prose passages, people, and circumstances in the books I was reading.
This (now pretty much under control since I have been able to talk about it) anxiety could be happening because my body is no longer in a constant combat mode. I now have the leisure to feel, which I like to think of as a good thing.
Practicing now seems to be a little bit different from the way it felt a few weeks ago. I can think about the "how" of making a phrase sound better with more objectivity, which is something that makes practicing more productive than simply playing because I need some emotional relief.
Knowing where to be in the bow, for example, is something I can only accomplish through focused practice. And when I am in the anxiety-informed state of performing, the practicing I have done allows me to enter a more free-flowing and expressive state than I would be in if I hadn't practiced properly.
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