Monday, February 23, 2026

Avant Garde?

I have been spending time with Mozart's piano sonatas recently, and the other day I came upon K457, in C minor. I felt immediately like I was playing something by Beethoven, and my first reaction was to think of Mozart being "ahead of his time." But Mozart lived his very short life, with its particular and extraordinary creative path, in his own time. Beethoven might have found a clear and durable way of musical expression that really resonated with him through this particular sonata: a portal of sorts through which he could connect himself to the spirit of the teacher he always wanted to study with, but missed the opportunity.

Those of us who express ourselves through writing music, whether through notation or transmitting it only by sound, walk down many paths until we find a direction that appeals to us. It doesn’t matter a great deal if we have a personal relationship with a person who served as a guidepost or a particular way of thinking musically. The fruit is there for the picking. But we need to recognize it, and we need to reach for it.

So often when playing Haydn Quartets I hear tinges of Schubert in the Haydn. That might be because Schubert and his family would have played everything available to them that Haydn wrote. The eleven-year-old Franz Schubert, who sang in the Vienna Boys Choir, might even have had the chance to meet Haydn because of his relationship with Antonio Salieri. Franz entered the Choir in 1808, and Haydn died in 1809. I like to think that it was through Haydn that Schubert found his way to express himself, and I constantly need to remind myself that it is Haydn I hear in the Schubert.

It wasn't that Haydn was "ahead of his time," channeling what would become known as the Romantic Period. Haydn, like Mozart, was a person of his time. Schubert was of his time, as was Beethoven (and they lived in Vienna at the same time). But with all that amazing musical and creative energy dancing its way around Vienna, what a time it was!


Sunday, February 22, 2026

Alysa Liu and Jacqueline du Pré

Michael and I watched "Genius and Tragedy," the 2025 documentary about Jacqueline du Pré the night before I learned about Alysa Liu and saw her scate during the 2026 Olympics. And now I don't think that I can think of one woman without thinking of the other. Maybe some day Alysa Liu might scate to one of Jacqueline du Pré's recordings. Can you imagine the joy that such a convergence of creative souls would bring to this bruised and battered world?

Saturday, February 21, 2026

Recently Updated!

Rebecca Johnson and Cara Chowning have a new date for their recital: March 1, 2026 at 7:30 p.m. I have updated my earlier post.

The Schoen Duo's "A Child's Garden of Verses" Project

You can find your way through this link to a series of artfully made video recordings that combine readings, images, "field" video recordings, and stage performances that the Schoen Duo assembled as an educational package to appeal to children (of all ages).

And you can find a link to the music (in versions for different instruments) on this page of the IMSLP.

Saturday, February 14, 2026

Ten Years

[Yesterday's Sunset, a painting by June Fine]

Ten years ago on this day my mother, June Fine, died from tongue cancer. She had been unable to see for many years, and was unable to walk because of severe edema. When she was diagnosed with tongue cancer she told me, "The good news is that I have cancer--the bad news is that it is treatable." Treatment for my mother would deprive her of the ability to talk and the ability to eat. I respect her choice, but her willingness to die has haunted me for a decade.

Fast forward to Valentine's Day 2026.

When I first suspected that I might have cancer back in December I thought about my mother. I always felt that I was her protector: I became a flutist because she could no longer play due to an operation she had on her left hand, and I tried my best to encourage her and support her, even though she was reluctant to relate to me in a maternal way. I very often said (and thought) that she would be a person I would choose for a friend, but not as a mother.

With every anniversary of her death I forgive her just a little bit more for not being the kind of mother she was unable to be. I know that she never meant to hurt me. She might have even thought that she was protecting me from having the kind of over-protective mother that she had. But that is neither here nor there.

What is here is my unwillingness to repeat my mother's mantra regarding cancer. I have places to be and things to do, and I have people I want to be with and do things with.

I am eager to begin getting infusions and taking oral medication (I begin on Thursday). I am  curious about which side effects I will have, and wonder how I will feel while doing this serious science-based battle with an entity that is attacking the marrow of my bones. But I also feel (to use the expression "in the marrow of my bones") that I will regain control of my body and my future.

I like to think that my mother would be proud of me.

Thursday, February 05, 2026

My flutist friend Meysam Ghodraty needs help

Meysam Ghodraty spent a couple of years as a graduate student at the university in my Illinois town. The last time I spoke with him was just before graduation in April of 2025. He told me that he was headed to California to find a doctoral program. Michael and I just learned today that Meysam has spent the past two months in ICE detention in Louisiana.

The university music department started a GoFundMe page today to raise money for Meysam's legal assistance:
He came to the United States legally and was in the process of obtaining an Optional Practical Training (OPT) extension to his visa in order to start a Doctoral program in flute performance in Fall 2026. We believe that his OPT may have been denied due to a clerical error and want to help him correct this situation.
While he was a student here Meysam lived in an apartment very close to our house. I enjoyed hearing him practice when I walked by.

UPDATE from the gofundme page:
Thank you so much to everyone who has so generously supported Meysam Ghodraty’s legal fund. We are deeply grateful for your kindness, encouragement, and willingness to stand with him during this incredibly difficult time. Your support truly means more than we can express.

Yesterday, we learned that the Fifth Court of Appeals (which covers Louisiana) issued a decision on Friday (Feb. 6th) indicating that bond may not be permitted in cases like Meysam’s. Because he has a court appearance scheduled for Monday, we are very concerned that his bond could be reconsidered.

Our immediate and urgent goal is to post his bond (which we are working on right now!). If he can be released, his case would move to the non-detained docket, which—while slower—would at least allow him to continue his case outside of detention. Importantly, being out on bond may also give him the opportunity to resubmit his OPT visa application.

Thank you again for your generosity, compassion, and support. We could not do this without you!


UPDATE: Meysam is safely back in Illinois. Thank goodness.

Friday, January 30, 2026

Minnesota Orchestra Livestream Concert January 31, 2026



I believe this is the space on YouTube where the Minnesota Orchestra will begin tonight's and tomorrow night's concerts with a performance of the Adagietto from Gustav Mahler's Fifth Symphony in memory and in honor of Renee Good and Alex Pretti who were murdered by members of the ICE organization that is being deployed by the federal government.

The Minnesota Orchestra has changed the program for its concerts on 30 and 31 January in memory of Alex Pretti and Renee Good.

In a statement on their website and social media, the orchestra wrote, “In light of what’s happening in our community right now, this weekend’s program will open with the Adagietto from Mahler’s Symphony No. 5, instead of Dukas’s ‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.’ We offer it in memorial for Alex Pretti and Renee Good—and we share it with love for our audience and our beautiful city on a program that explores the resilience of finding ‘songs to sing’ amidst tragedy and seeking hope in darkness.”

The rest of the program is unchanged, and includes the US premiere of Donghoon Shin’s ‘Threadsuns’ Concerto for Viola and Orchestra, featuring Principal Viola Rebecca Albers. Conductor Fabien Gabel will lead the concerts.

The program will be streamed free of charge on the orchestra’s YouTube channel on 31 January at 8pm CST

Sunday, January 25, 2026

Rebecca Johnson and Cara Chowning Concert Postponed

UPDATE: The new date is Sunday, March 1, at 7:30 p.m.
I’m really looking forward to hearing Rebecca Johnson and Cara Chowning play my Piccolo Sonata and my flute and piano transcription of Florence Price’s "Adoration" on this concert at the Doudna Fine Arts Center Recital Hall on the campus of Eastern Illinois University in Charleston, IL. (New date because of icy roads). It looks like the other composers are also women: Valerie Coleman, Geraldine Green, Florence Price, and Yuko Uebayashi. There will also be a livestream link, which I will post here when it becomes available.

Friday, January 23, 2026

An anthology of music for young cellists written by women that is published by Schott



This 128-page graded anthology for cello and piano compiled and edited by Beverley Ellis, is the first part of a three-volume series dedicated to cello music written by female composers. It is a progressive compendium of educational and concert pieces for cello and piano, composed by women from the 19th century to the present day. The anthology aims to help ensure that works by women composers become an established part of the cello repertoire.

Volume one, published in January 2026, has twenty-eight pieces of easy and moderate difficulty.

It is such an honor to have a piece in this anthology!

Käthe Volkart-Schlager (1897–1976)
 Sonatine

Anna Priscilla Risher (1875–1946)
Miniatures/Miniaturen
Barcarolle
Cantilèna
Valse mélodique
Tarantella

Barbara Heller (*1936)
Moments/Momente
Now / Jetzt
Eternal / Ewig
Impulsive / Impulsiv
Timeless / Zeitlos
Sometimes / Manchmal
Vera Mohrs (*1984)
Cat Songs / Katzenmusik
Hallo Kitty! / Hallo Kätzchen!
Roaming / Streifzug
Nightwatch / Nachtwache

Vasiliki Kourti-Papamoustou (*1988)
Baroque-ish

Magdalena König (*1970)
Hanging Out
By the Sea / Am Meer
Pumpkin Pie

Charlotte Mohrs (*1989)
Dream Dance / Traumtanz
Syncopation Tango

Adeline Shepherd (1883–1950)
Live Wires Rag

Magdalena Cynk (*1968)
Ukrainian Dance / Kozak Ukrainski

Elaine Fine (*1959)
Cellodactyl

Els Aarne (1917–1995)
Nocturne op. 56/1

Carita von Horst (1864–1935)
Sarabande

Berta von Brukenthal (1846–1908)
Romance op. 9

Vasiliki Kourti-Papamoustou (*1988)
Bow Dance
Keep Cool!

Susanne Paul (*1970)
Frogster Funk

You can find the Presto website here, where you can buy a copy of this anthology.

Thursday, January 22, 2026

First Piano Lesson

Two of our granddaughters were visiting last weekend (along with their parents). We had a lot of fun: painting with watercolors on good watercolor paper, baking muffins with Michael, reading, and a lot of hide and seek. Our house does have a lot of great hiding places, especially if you are six and eight.

The girls asked me if I would give them a piano lesson. The last time they were here I taught them that old chestnut where you use your fist to play the group of three black keys up and down. But this time, after my experience with the piano is far more personal and intimate, I decided to actually teach them something that would "count" as real piano playing.

I figured that Frances Goldstein would have taught the kids the numbers of their fingers, so that's what I did. We started with the right hand.  I had them put their thumbs (finger number one) on the F key, with the other fingers following, one to a key. Then I taught them to look up from the keyboard and transfer the weight from one finger to the next, teeter-totter style.

I didn't start with middle C because there were two of them sharing a bench.

The three of us set up our "houses" in different octaves. Right away I had the kids not look at their hands, and try to feel their fingers on the keys ("tactile, tactile," as FSG would say) and imitate the two-note motives I would play, using the fingers they felt on the keys. They imitated me really well.

The kids were thrilled to learn that the left hand fingers had the same numbers, and were fascinated by the fact that the notes they played went down instead of up.

The six-year-old wanted me to play the music that was on the piano music stand, which, of course, was a movement from a Haydn Sonata. I played the first eight measures. The eight-year-old then made up something of her own that used patterns she heard in the Haydn. That was a gift.

What was most thrilling for me was to be witness to the exact moment when their brains and their ears made a connection with their fingers. It was a first for me with the piano. Once that connection is established there is no going back. That is the moment when a person becomes a musician.

I wish I could work with them every day.

Tuesday, January 20, 2026

Dol

I learned about the Dol scale, which measures pain, when I was at work on "Weights and Measures." The official name is the Dolorimeter, and it came into use in the 1940s. I spent much of the last week in the hospital, where I went through a series of tests, and was asked to rate my level of pain on a scale of one to ten every time I was given pain medication.

Armed with a diagnosis, a treatment plan, and some pain medication, I was able to leave the hospital on Saturday in the later afternoon.

It turns out that I have a highly treatable form of multiple myeloma, for which I began radiation treatments yesterday. I have eight to go, and then will start chemotherapy. I have great doctors, and I have great support from family, friends, and musical colleagues. I have every reason to be hopeful and grateful. 

This thing is literally a pain in the butt, since the tumor has taken residence where I sit and where I lie down. It is rapidly being destroyed, and as it becomes smaller, so will the pain.

Now that you know the background story, I can let you know how Haydn helped me survive.

During my first ninety-minute-long MRI, I was able to listen to the Haydn Quartets Opus 76 no. 6, no. 5, and no. 1 (in that order). Since I know these pieces so intimately, having played them all recently, I was able to stay completely still and follow the lines of the music through the bangs, squaks, bumps, and thuds of the MRI. It gave me such a sense of purpose to make it my business find my way through all the noise, and hear the music.

I was actually looking forward to my second MRI because I could listen to Opus 76 no. 2, no. 3, and no. 4. I recommend Haydn quartets as companions in such circumstances. My radiologist told me that they got really good images from the MRIs. I thank Haydn for that.

While I was in the hospital my pain level never went above eight, but before I entered the hospital (before I had adequate pain medication), Michael got to witness what level ten can do to a person. The only relief I could get (while waiting for the NSAID and muscle relaxer a critical care doctor perscribed for me over a holiday weekend) was having Michael sit next to me on the bed and play "Lotus Blossom" on his guitar. 

My first radiation treatment was yesterday. I didn't have any problems with the hour-long ride up, or during the procedure. But on the ride home I realized far too late that I should have brought along some muscle relaxer. 

My pain level reached level ten when we were about thirty minutes from home. Michael suggested that I might want to listen to some Haydn, so I found the Cleveland Quartet's recording of the Quinten (Opus 76, no 2) Quartet. Singing and crying along with it saved my sanity. My sciatica-like pain was so great that my leg actually went numb, but thanks to Mr. Haydn and the members of the Cleveland Quartet I was able to find considerable joy through the pain.

Michael didn't particularly like driving twenty miles over the speed limit on an empty rural road, with the person he loves writhing in serious pain next to him. He was not particularly keen on driving with intense music (all those melodic fifths create an amazing amount of tension) in the minor mode playing loudly over the car speakers, but he was a hero and pressed onward, getting us home safely. He found the second movement to be charming, and appreciated the canon in the minuet. We didn't get all the way through the last movement because we arrived it home in record time. 

I went straight for my muscle relaxer, jumped into bed, put on my headphones, and listened to Opus 76, no. 4 (the Sunrise). And after that I was OK.

Friday, January 09, 2026

Do You Like Brahms

So far I have spent all of 2026 with the company of a fever, body aches (some severe--a literal pain in the butt), and the various foggy states that come with the flu. I have also been fortunate to have the company of Michael, who seems to have avoided getting it. We both got our vaccinations at the same time, but it seems that his worked to protect him.

I'm doing everything you are supposed to do: herbal tea, lots of water, chicken soup (home-made), and rest. But I'm getting tired of not being able to go outside, not being able to sit at the piano for more than half an hour, not being strong enough to practice violin for more than a few minutes at a stretch, and not being able to sit in a chair to even attempt to compose.

[The seat cushion I ordered from one online retailer was lost, and the one I ordered from the company that makes the product isn't coming until Monday.]

My friend Martha recommended a Korean series on Netflix from 2000 called "Do You Like Brahms", and I have been able to watch it on my iPad while sitting on a foam chair that has a decent mix of support and softness. I have made it through almost ten of the fifteen episodes.

The series is set in a Korean university, and the lead actors are all musicians. Much of the playing is dubbed, but all the motions are real. They use mostly Henle editions, though there is an International Music Company presence here and there (represent!). The main characters are shown practicing, talking about practicing, eating in the cafeteria, planning to eat in the cafeteria, walking with instruments on their backs, and talking about their careers or the careers of others. That is a nice slice of realism, though the practice rooms are far nicer than anything I have seen in America, even at Juilliard.

I have seen one of the violinists (her name is Song-ah) carry at least twenty different purses and bags in the first ten episodes. The lead pianist (his name is Joon-Young) always carries the same backpack: a nice leather number with room for all of those Henle editions. Nobody carries a laptop, and nobody uses a cellphone case. The books that people carry are small and light. In offices people use colorful hard-bound notebooks.

The music is kind of limited in scope: well-known pieces by Rachmaninoff, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Beethoven, Brahms, Chopin, Franck, Ravel, Schubert. Except for the opening episode that includes a full orchestra, I have seen nary a wind player, a brass player, or a percussionist. I don't even know if there is a violist anywhere. But there is a luthier (a main character). With so many string players in town, I imagine he is never short of work to do.

The core cast are all people who are either thirty or turning thirty. There are a bunch of birthday parties. These thirty-year-old musicians have the kind of emotional depth that one would suspect from people in their thirties when it comes to matters of love (emotions run very deep, and manners remind me of those Jane Austen elaborates on), and the kinds of professional worries that thirty-year-old musicians with advanced degrees have. But in many ways they seem very young. Many of the characters live at home, which could be either a cultural norm or for economic reasons. Maybe both.

There are also interesting matters of social and economic class, teachers who play power games with their students (rather than teach them about the music itself), and beautiful camera work that captures the excellent acting of the consistent and disciplined actors. Well, I'm going to check in on my friends in episode 10. So far the two love interests have never played together. The violinist, Song-ah, is supposed to be the worst violinist in the school, but she sounds fine to me. I hope that she and Joon-Young do play together, and that it is an exceptional and meaningful experience for both of them.

As I remember, that’s what music students who are in relationships do.

Thursday, January 01, 2026

A New Year's Gift for Bec

I'm greeting 2026 with a song set to a poem that Jonathan Swift wrote for his friend Rebecca Dingley to greet 1724.



You can find the music here and on this page of the IMSLP.

Stella is Esther Johnson, a companion of Rebecca Dingley. Stella could have secretly been married to Swift. Quilca was the name of a house in County Caven, Ireland that was owned by Thomas Sheridan. Swift wrote wrote some of Gulliver’s Travels there.

I have been on a Handel "bender" for the last few weeks, which, no doubt, provided a lot of influence.

All the best for 2026.

Monday, December 29, 2025

Adventures in vibrato (and time and space)

I spent some time last week attempting to make a satisfactory recording of the violin part of "My Antonia." I was planning to combine it with a recording of the computer-generated piano part, so that I could give some sense of "my" Antonia's violin voice for people, like Lisa, who have shown interest. Antonia is a remarkable violin, but I haven't yet been able to make a recording that did her (it) or the piece justice.

One thing I learned from my experience trying to record the piece is that my arm-powered viola vibrato is just not fast enough for this violin. 

This morning I began my quest to bring it up to speed. 

Practicing scales using regular rhythms tends not to be stimulating enough for me, but my eye caught a copy of "Weights and Measures" that I keep by my music stand. And "Spacial Scale," one of the lyrical pieces, ended up being exactly what the doctor ordered.
I practiced "Spacial Scale" in each of the minor keys, allowing myself time and room to find and enhance resonance in different areas of the fingerboard (the feeling of vibrato is different in different positions because the angle of the arm is different), making my way stepwise from one pitch to the next using as fast and as continuous a vibrato I could produce. Transposing these scale pieces is surprisingly not difficult. The pitches travel up a step or down a step. They also jump the octave or repeat at the unision. It is easy for the inner ear to hear where the next pitch will be, and you don't even need to know the name of the pitch you happen to be playing. This gives you (and me) a chance to focus on the physical aspects of playing, in both the left hand and the bow arm, as well as the sound.

After a trip around the circle of fifths, I jumped into a few Rode etudes (hit the Rode), and was pleased to find that my vibrato had gained a little speed. I sounded a little bit more like a violinist.

What more could anyone ask for in an instrument than having it compel us to become better players?

Friday, December 26, 2025

Jule Styne on Inspiration

The music that Jule Styne wrote for Mister Magoo's Christmas Carol is really remarkable. Though Mr. Styne would say that "enthusiasm is hardly inspiration" (in another context, I know), I was so enthusiastic about the music that I have loved since childhood that I was inspired to look Styne up in the IMDB. Like you, I knew he wrote the music for Gypsy, but that was as far as my knowledge went before yesterday. Now I know more. I really appreciate this statement he made that is quoted in the IMDB:
Enthusiasm is hardly inspiration, it's perspiration. I think only amateurs have to be inspired in some ways. You're a professional, you do your job. The inspiration comes later on when you haver already got something and are inspired to make it better, better than it is. When I write a score for a play, just to give you an idea, I write between forty and fifty songs to get sixteen. Sometimes they accept this, and I come back but I change this, and they say,'Gee, this is better', or 'No, we'll keep the original'. But I test. I draw on myself.