Still more reflections from April 2020

[Part Three in a series of posts]

April 9, 2020

I have a history of being an anti-technologist. The first personal computers for home use came out in the early 1980s. I used a Displaywriter for work, so I did not have the fascination that Michael did for having one for his own use. We bought a computer for him, and a baroque flute for me. I needed to grow musically more than I needed to grow technologically. And growing musically for me meant going back to basics.

We had to return the computer because something about it didn't work, so we ended up with an electronic typewriter that had a pretty nifty memory feature, where you could store a few lines of text. Michael used that until we got an Apple //c.

I have still been on my quest to grow musically, and that growth is a slow process. I spend my practice time trying to get from one note to the next in a satisfying and meaningful way. I spend my teaching time asking my students to do the same. When they listen to what I tell them to do and do it, they sound pretty good. I think.

I say, "I think," because I can only hear them through the microphone on their phone, tablet, or computer, a signal (that is often too weak) that is transmitted up to a satellite, and delivered to me through the speakers of my iPad. But all I can really give them is feedback about their intonation and their rhythm. I can see (and hear) if their bows slide on the string, and can ask them to concentrate. I can help the beginners learn to read music, and I can advise more advanced students about playing the correct notes.

April 10, 2020

I watched and listened to a broadcast of the Bach St. John Passion from Leipzig. One singer, one percussionist, and one harpsichordist who also played organ. They were performing a good distance from one another. And then there was a chorus of five or six singers also spaced at least six feet apart. The chorales were assembled videos of singers from different choirs, who made videos of themselves from home.

It looks like we won’t need to go to the grocery store for another day or two, so we are staying home, with a forty-five minute walk. The Spring is really beautiful. The pink and white flowering trees are doing their pink and white flowering. The grass is green, and, aside from one hot day, things are still pretty cool. I made meatloaf for dinner, and that’s what we’re going to have tomorrow too. We are down to about six bottles of wine.

Bernie Sanders suspended his campaign on Thursday, and now he is trying to figure out how best to keep his “our revolution” platform going, even though he is not the candidate. I’m hoping it will work. I’m spending too much time checking Facebook, Twitter, and Gmail, and that is starting to feed my isolation. Lots of superficial contact is not equal to a little bit of substantial contact.

April 12, 2020

Michael and I watched a live-streamed violin and piano concert played by Igor Kanlin and Rochelle Sennet on the iPad today. It was the same program that we heard played in person about six weeks ago. The playing was wonderful—perhaps even better than the concert we heard before, but the audio quality of the live stream was not great. It didn’t do the playing justice at all.

I miss hearing music played in real space. The only music I hear in real time and real space is played by me.

I imagine that with all this violin practice and all this technique-building stuff I’m doing, I am getting to be a better violinist. But I’m no Igor.

We have seven cases of Covid 19 in Coles County now. I’m feeling lousy, but I don’t think what I have is Covid. But I haven’t been exposed to any germs that live outside of the house, so it isn’t another virus. Perhaps it is just stress-induced vertigo combined with some aches and pains from practicing and not sleeping well. I had a long phone conversation with a good friend today. I think using the phone to talk to people is a good thing.

April 15, 2020

Yesterday, after a FaceTime lesson, my student’s mother told me that the mother of another of my students, whom she knew from a student recital back in February, was one of the first two people diagnosed with Covid19 in the county. She is apparently recovering well, but I haven’t heard from her personally (I sent a text message yesterday). I had played with my student (her daughter) at a family funeral on March 13 (and wrote about it in my first entry). I’m not quite sure how the math works, but, with the number of people (many from out of town) who came to the funeral, it is possible that she caught the virus there. Or, since she had what appeared to be a cold, she might have had the beginnings of her disease then and there.

I kept my distance from my student's mother, but, since I was playing with my student, was unable to keep distance from my student. I certainly hope that the rest of the family is OK.

I have been dealing with dizziness (vertigo) for about a week now. I don’t know if it is my reaction to having the virus, but I think that it might be unrelated. Michael is not sick, and I feel tired and dizzy, but basically well.

April 17, 2020

I have been spending the last few days hard at work on a “Birthday Piece” for viola d’amore and piano. I have been doing this every year for the last twelve years, and now that I have reached a nice round number, both in number of pieces and in age (I’ll be 61), I’m finishing the set. Today I’m going to try to make a video recording of it with viola d’amore and computer-generated piano.

I gave myself a haircut today (I did the front, but Michael did the back) so I look a little less of a mess, so now all I have to do is play well on an instrument that I haven’t actually practiced on in a long time. I use it as a viol for collegium, but don’t really have to use its chromatic powers for that.

April 21, 2020

It is a beautiful day in Charleston, and I will spend some of it outside mowing. The rest I will probably be spending inside practicing or reading. Michael and I are reading Jane Eyre, which is a real delight. No news from my student’s mother, but one of the people who had the two first Covid-19 cases has recovered. I take that to be her. I’m afraid that I won’t be seeing my student again though, since her grandfather was the engine behind her violin playing, and he is no longer alive.

Maybe she will return. These are not the best of circumstances, though.

I finished my “Birthday Piece,” and find it to be dark and gloomy. I tried making a recording with viola d’amore and computer-generated piano, but it just didn’t sound right. I settled for a computer-generated one. But what can I expect. Darkness and gloom hover even though the day may be beautiful. Nature has a way of continuing to do her thing. I suppose that the virus is part of nature as well.

I’m glad that at least some of the people in the county are being sensible and not getting antsy about this “opening the state” nonsense. I don’t think I will be going anywhere without a mask anytime in the future. Not until there is a vaccine, and everyone is vaccinated.

April 22, 2020

Today was crazy town on the television. Trump held court during the dinner hours for what seemed like an eternity (it was actually around two hours—his usual time for spewing propaganda and lies). It is just one crazy claim followed by another. Saying something, and then saying the opposite. Reading prepared statements (statements prepared for him) and then ad-libbing whatever he feels like saying. He moved the person in charge of developing a vaccine elsewhere because that person said something negative about the “wonder drug” that Trump had been touting (in reality it has been proven ineffective, and has killed people who used it). And then the head of the Centers for Disease Control warned that there would be a second wave of the virus coming concurrently with the flu. Trump made him say something different for this television audience.

April 25, 2020

Trump craziness: the other day he started “ad-libbing” about treating Covid with bleach, suggesting that if it could be used inside the body to kill the virus that could be a good thing. Yes. There were people who drank bleach after he said that on television. What a sorry lot the American people are. Maybe it is just a flaw of human nature to follow a leader—even a completely crazy one.

Here, inside the house, with only the windows of the various screens to show us the outside world, we are bearing up. I have been writing violin studies—miniatures that use limited sets of notes. There will be twelve in all. I’m working on numbers four and five now. I also got a commission to write a piece for euphonium and woodwind quintet. So I have lots of things to do.

We had our first Covid-19 death on the county yesterday. I feel that we as a community all feel extremely sad, even though nobody knows who this person is, or what part of the county s/he is from. I really feel for the hospital workers who are working so hard to keep this virus contained.