Beaver Creek News

Hello from the Colorado Suzuki Institute, live in Beaver Creek, Colorado. In case you are new to the blog, Suzuki Institutes are "camps" where kids go for a week to study their instrument, but unlike other camps, in keeping with the Suzuki triangle, parents accompany their kids to institutes and follow them around and take notes and practice with them and stay in a very small hotel room and spend 24/7 hours a day with them for a good 5-7 days. There is wine available. Here in Beaver Creek, us poor parents are also exposed to luxury hotels, high-end shopping, the Rocky Mountains, world class gardens, nightly ice-skating, bungee jumping and concerts in one of the finest halls you will ever visit.

Mary and Matthew, one of my students, are here doing the institute. They both auditioned and were selected to perform on one of two student honor recitals. Can I express the impact that auditioning, being accepted, preparing for, finding the God-blessed dress for, and performing in the recital has?  I don't think I can. The kids just grow. This was number six for me--as a parent. Three times per kids. So---just like when I used to get pulled over by the state patrol coming home from late night Texas gigs--eventually, after this many times--my blood pressure barely even rose. But you still want the kids to have a positive experience. And they did. I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'm really proud of Mary and Matthew, but that's just a selfish icing on the cake of their experience.

I've been doing informal research about how to get kids to love music. How to get them to stay. How to keep them engaged. My back of the envelop says that kids who go to summer institutes don't quit. There's something very deep and engaging about the whole deal. Every class and every faculty member that they are exposed to has some impact upon them. My kids remember every teacher they ever had for every class. We've got pictures of Mary at 2 running around Beaver Creek like she owns the joint.

There's a million reasons why this is important. Kids are really smart. Does the fact that mom and dad bought airline tickets or drove across the country and booked a hotel and bought groceries and paid for ice-cream and dinners out go over their heads? Or does it send the ultimate message that this is really important and special. Music is really important and special. They are really important and special.

It's just one tool in the tool-box. There are kids who can't afford institutes and we are all working on that. MacPhail in Minneapolis is an extremely affordable option. There are many, many scholarships available. My kids' childhood summers are punctuated by these institutes.

Here's a couple links to Mary and Matthew's performances. And that. . . is the Beaver Creek News.

Link to Matthew's Ecossaise at the Vilar Center
Link to Mary's Gavotte at the Vilar Center

While you are at it. . . check out Calvin's concerto last week at his freshman recital and check out my youtube channel. . . there are a bunch of new videos to share.
Link to Calvin's F Minor Concerto at Sundin Hall

Looks Like We Made It

We made it up the mountain to Beaver Creek Lodge last night after 17 hours in the car. Minnesota to Colorado in one fell swoop.

We made it through the last ten days of five recitals and a baby shower and a fifth grade talent show and finals and packing the family for two different trips.

We made it through a school year of 15 hour days and accompanying on the weekends and SAM workshops and Suzuki Piano Teacher's Guild events and Christmas teas and new Steinway pianos and cabin kitchen remodels.

Looks like we made it. But I am not the same person. I feel older and wiser and foolish for taking on so much. I'm not proud of the frantic pace of this year.  I'm not proud that one of Mary's phrases has become. . . when we're not so busy can we. . . .

But we made it. And we made it with a lot of love and only a couple days of darkness and only one or two instances of yelling.

The phrase "it's all good" is overused and kinda annoying, however it does often fit.

It was all good.

Marching band was good. Calvin embraced high school and had a great year. Mary had the best year ever at school and had great teachers and friends. The piano kids had an awesome end of year recital in an awesome hall. Calvin and Mary worked so hard and each performed very musical solo recitals.  Lena had a beautiful senior recital and we had a lovely party for her.  Mary loved recreational circus all year and also has a great relationship with her ballet teacher. We had great chamber music experiences again this year with the O'Briens sharing their gifts with the studio. I bought a once in a lifetime instrument.

It was all good.

When they say it takes a village. . . it takes a village.

It's not like we won a Grammy or anything but here are a few thank yous. . . .

My husband. We are a good team. He is the light to my darkness. How could I count the ways?
My mom. Couldn't have done Christmas or this recital season without you. Lord, I don't even know what all you did these last two weeks. I just turned around and stuff was done.
Bill's folks. . . holding down the fort in Nisswa and doing so many behind the scenes tasks that I don't even know about yet I completely appreciate.
Calvin and Mary for "self sitting" and getting their chores and practicing done while I taught.
Mary Lynn. For every panicked text to please go pick up Calvin cause marching band got switched.
Delores--my cleaning lady turned friend. It's expensive to have a cleaning lady but she's part therapist so that actually saves me a lot of money. Between the conversation and the cleaning, when she leaves I'm at peace.
Conor and Adrianna for all the beautiful chamber music.
Maggie. . . you know what you do. You keep me tough.
Jason for plowing me out.
Linda Erickson for recital help and pinch hitting with rides.
Bill Henry for subbing for me for workshop weekends at church and working with Calvin.
Dave Highum for taking the wheel at the fountain and helping me out from under a sinking ship of weeds.
The SAM and SPTG boards. . . when one of us slips the others steady us.
Mary Walker for apprenticing for the Deerwood plant sale--you're gonna do a great job next year.
The good folks at the Kowalski and Byerly's bakeries--you don't want to know my cake budget for the year.
Amazon Prime. You kept the kids in shoes, socks and underwear. You kept the studio in office supplies. You sent a new blender in two hours. I love you. I know you love me too.
Coborns grocery delivery. . . . we've been together for 15 years now. You know what you mean to me.  Please never leave me.

This is how we do it. It was all good. We made it. We honored our commitments. I'm not proud of my over scheduling this year, but tomorrow is a new day. Next year is a new chance to be a little more sacred with our "yes."

My Grieg Girl Graduates

What can I say about Miss Lena? I met her when her brother started lessons in 1998. She was a baby and her mom would do the mom things to entertain her during the lesson. Coins from her purse. Raisins and crackers. When she was ready to start, Fall of 2001, it was with the usual ease of a second sibling. She knew the drill. She was a little shy at the first couple recitals, those other kids were pretty big and intimidating (seven years old) by then. But we didn't fuss and in time she marched up there and did her thing. Lena has always done her own thing. It's not always easy to be the younger sister, no matter how much you grow, there is always someone around who is taller. But Lena has marched to her own beat. 

I don't remember what age she was when she got the hair cut. It was a stacked bob and this was her childhood trademark. I remember her playing A Short Story and we lined up six round magnets for the six phrases and she rounded them all! 

Lena has played for all the visiting master class clinicians, Doris, Chris L., Catherine McMichael, Reiko, and many many others. I've always been proud to show off her beautiful tone and expressive playing. 

I don't remember (I guess I'm losing it. . . ) when she started with the Grieg thing. You know, the adolescent stage when the kid falls in love with a composer and you do whatever it takes to keep them in the studio and keep them loving and playing piano. For a time we were the all Grieg all the time radio station. I'll take it. 

One of my favorite things about Lena--when she would come into lessons with a lot on her mind--like all high school kids do from time to time--even if the music was rough or she hadn't achieved everything she hoped for the week, once we were into the piece--I would see the secret smile. The secret smile that would come across her face--that she thought her mother couldn't see--that she thought I wouldn't notice--and that smile told me that everything was going to be okay. The Grieg took. 

Sure enough. Beautiful tone. Beautiful heart. 

Lena is off to Luther down in Deborah, Iowa. Her brother will still be taller than her there, but I'm quite sure she will still make her own path. She is studying wildlife biology and taking some art classes but she hopes to take piano lessons and play her trumpet in some ensembles. The Grieg took. 

I learned a lot from Lena. In addition to all the Grieg that I had never taught before, that is. I'm still learning about little sisters with tall big brothers. Thank you Jonelle, for paving the way for me in so many, many ways. 

In the photo below, I'm holding Calvin and expecting Mary. Lena is the last and littlest of this group--she's in the aqua stripe dress, which got handed down to Mary and worn to shreds. A lot of Lena got handed down to Mary. After the big kids left--it wasn't so easy for Lena to hang with the next generation. She hung in there and I couldn't be more proud. Dr. Suzuki says, beautiful tone, beautiful heart. 

Lena, my dear. . . there is a lot more Grieg out there. We've only scratched the surface. I'm sure Luther will be a great place to tackle it. You are a beautiful girl, inside and out and it's been my complete privilege to walk this path with you for the last fifteen years. I'm gonna miss all your smiles.  Blessings to you now and always. I can't wait to hear your program Friday night and celebrate with you. 

The Triangle of Practice and Performance Preparation

Yesterday was the May meeting of the Twin Cities Suzuki Piano Teacher's Guild. Three of us long time board members stepped down and two veterans returned to lead the ship. Thanks Jill, for the sweet note and the chocolate, which I will eat as soon as I finish my latest no sugar, no chip-food no gluten kick, which will probably be soon. . . .

It feels very weird to think about not being on this board. I can't even remember when I wasn't involved. We've had a great run. I'll still be involved of course--as SAM President and piano graduation chair the lines are more than a little blurred. . . but. . . it's five fewer meetings per year and right now, every single meeting counts.

Balance, balance, balance.

I finished the Deerwood plant sale last Friday. It was 40 degrees and raining. God bless you Mrs. Fischer for letting us use the gym. I can't tell you the darkness that was creeping into my soul upon the thought of unloading $10,000 worth of geraniums and sorting them into orders in the 40 degree pouring rain out on the sidewalk. You know by now that I'm a little detail oriented. . . but can I just say that we were flawless. The orders reconciled down to the last petunia. That was a first. And a last. My last Deerwood duty. Ten years of dropping off little Calvin and Mary every morning and picking them up after school at the wonderful round about where sometimes parents behave and sometimes they just don't. Deerwood goodbye is another blog. . .

We are getting ready for all kinds of recitals. Senior recitals. Book four recitals. Freshman recitals. Studio recitals.

So here's my focus: balancing the triangle of accuracy, expressiveness, and physical comfort. I believe it all boils down to this. Any of these without the others is not a success.

Accuracy
Expressiveness
Physical comfort

Expressiveness without accuracy is sloppy. Accuracy without expressiveness is boring. And any playing with discomfort or pain is unacceptable.

I believe we spiral around this triangle over and over in the lessons. We work on perfect repetitions but then we say don't worry--let go and feel the music. We start to really get it all and then notice some physical tension creeping in. Round and round we go. And I think that's okay. Checks and balances.

The danger is when we lose someone mid triangle. We spent so much time on physical comfort that they lost interest, or we were so uptight about accuracy that they never felt the joy of throwing it out there and having something wonder happen.

I guess if I had to pick--I'd pick being expressive at all costs. No one ever quit because they felt the music too deeply.

That's all for now. Thank you Suzuki Piano Teacher's Guild for being such a great group of teachers, past, present, and future.

Not gonna eat the chocolate just yet.
Not gonna eat the chocolate just yet.
Just yet.

I Once Was Lost

Late last summer my mom and I were putting in some hosta plants in the west-side garden between the driveway and the street. I was using my left-handed felco pruners to unbind the roots. After all was said and done I went to collect my tools and it was gone. We had planted about 25 hostas. We looked and looked. I borrowed a metal detector from Nehemiah and Solomon. I kept looking off and on until the snow fell.

I asked for and received a new pruners for Christmas. Actually two. Because my mom gave me my dad's and my in-laws got me a new one.

April 28.  There is it, lying on top of the mulch in plain sight. A little rusty and muddy. I posted the picture on Facebook and I was thinking about how my grandpa could fix it up right smart. Without him around, I will have to take it to the hardware store.

Cousin Robin saw the post and commented the same. Grandpa would fix it. He would oil it and sharpen the blade and align it.

But he would've found it on the day he dropped it.
He never stopped looking for the lost thing.

He found my pocket knife in Canada. I knew it was somewhere. . . . he found it under the dock. In eight feet of Canadian lake water. And he dried it off and oiled it.

He could get a knot out of the finest silver chain. Slivers? Not a chance against that man of patience.

I took something from the pump house before my grandma sold the farm.  It's a leather dog leash. Sewn together in five places with tidy little pieces of wire. The leather was still oiled. You just don't buy a new dog leash when the old one wears through. You fix it. And fix it. And fix it.

God, the stuff I throw away in a day.
Amazon will bring you a new one in less than two hours.

I've always hated lost stuff. I think it is the symbol of negligence. If something is worth having it's worth taking care of, and being taken care means first and foremost not being lost.

Guilt. I let the snow fall. On my left-handed pruners. Now I have three.
I'll take one to the cabin. And I'll have a spare for when I take the other to the hardware store. Cuz I don't know how to oil it and sharpen it and align it myself.

The similar thing happened Christmas of 2008. With my dad's home-made ice cream machine.  It was the tradition. New Year's Eve. And the darn thing busted. Blew out the motor. Because I'm a rigid follower of traditions, I told him we'd stop and get a new one on the way home from our lady's day out shopping. We'd give it to him for an early birthday gift, I said. He was disgusted. The aren't cheap. Just stop and get store-bought ice-cream, he said. I won. We made the ice cream and it was wonderful and the kids licked the beaters in the garage with spoons my mom sent out and the cookie sheet to put all the parts on. Photo op.

Two points.

Number One. My dad took the old motor into the hardware store and the guy fixed it. $6. I'm ashamed to tell you what the new one cost. Bill and I took it home and we still use it on New Year's Eve and the forth of July. My dad's handwritten 12/31/2008 in sharpie on the box.

Second point. That was the last time my dad made ice cream for us. So there. It was worth the $200.

I guess there's a time to be frugal and a time for extravagant grace. The dog leash hangs in my closet with my belts and tries to remind me of life's lessons. And the pocket knife is in my jewelry box, rust-free with the red label tape "Stephens" on the side.

I'm missing those two men--and thinking of the bear hugs they gave me and the lessons they left me. I don't think they would approve of Amazon Prime. My grandpa would say--we don't need that--and give me a wink. My dad would call it Sahara Express and I'd probably get a wink from him too.

Upcoming Special Dates--Invitation to a Mud-Pie

There are some very special performances on the horizon.

May 1--Easter Lutheran Choral Service, your's truly, the Easter Choir, the handbells, Bill Henry and other instrumentalists will tell the story in two services, 8:30 a.m. and 10:00.  Links to live steaming at www.easter.org. (In case you are my mother. . . )

June 3rd--3:30 p.m. Calvin's freshman recital run-through at our home.  He will play Bach's F Minor Keyboard Concerto with a string chamber ensemble, Beethoven Op. 2, No.1, Chopin Op. 18, a Chopin Nocturne and Mazurka, and two Debussy pieces. He will close with his own arrangement of Mercy, Mercy, Mercy by Joe Zawinul. Refreshments will follow. RSVP to Sara.

June 4th--Studio recital at Sundin Music Hall on Hamline University. 1:00 p.m.  Twenty-five kids will play from their heart! Refreshments will follow.

June 4th--Calvin's Freshman program with string ensemble--at Sundin Hall at 3:30. Refreshments will follow. RSVP to Sara.

June 5th--Suzuki Association of Minnesota BBQ at our house at 5:00 p.m. Family event for SAM members--or anyone who wants to stop by.  RSVP to Sara.

June 10--Mary will play her Book 4 graduation at our home at 5:30. She will play 12 selections by Bach, Mozart, Grieg, Burgmüller, and others.  She will be accompanied by Conor and Adrianna O'Brien on violin and cello. Refreshments and appetizers will follow. RSVP to Sara.

June 10--7:30 Lena Schmitt will perform her senior recital at our home. She will play Rachmaninoff, Beethoven, Chopin, and Grieg. She will be accompanied by Conor and Adrianna. Dessert and dinner will follow. RSVP to Sara.

Congrats also to Solomon and Nehemiah, graduating from Books 5 and 4 on May 15.

I'm reading The Perfect Wrong Note by William Westney. In his first chapter, titled "Music, Magic and Childhood" he says and quotes J.M. Thorburn:

No matter how old we get, there is something uniquely precious in that which we fabricate with our own hands. In the works of J. M. Thorburn, "all the genuine, deep delight of life is in showing people the mud-pies you have made; and life is at its best when we confidingly recommend our mud-pies to each other's sympathetic consideration."  

Please consider coming out to hear these kids--they've been working very hard. They want to share their precious mud-pies.

And by the way. . . . thanks for reading my mud-pie.

Nurtured Into Independence

We Don't Do Much in Moderations Around Here. 

Sniff, sniff--thank you Matthew

All the kids work hard, but when you're blind, Book One graduation is extra special! 

That's a Keeper. Thanks, Ford. 

I could write a whole entry about each of these photos. When you really study them--a picture is worth a thousand words.

Mary and Tasha's pipe cleaner dolls--diversity. And a little bit of OCD in the DNA.
Matthew's school paper--the role of accomplishment in the development of self esteem.
Preston's celebration--music as a gateway to well--everything--for a visually impaired child.
Ford's composition--the development of intuition and understanding of the language of music.

Even before I read Gist, the best parenting book EVER, a theme in the studio this year was increasing the quality of independent practice in kids in say--fourth grade and above. That's not good writing. . . but. . . I'm a little sleepy.

Everything, everything, everything we do, as parents and as music teachers, must lead the child down the road, however gently and gradually toward independence. As human beings this means being compassionate, trustable, responsible contributors to society. As musicians, this means actually loving music and practicing and performing because we really just want to. Not because our parents signed us up, or because it makes us smarter or because we want to show off for our friends. We play  because music is a language of expression of the soul.

Jeepers it's so easy to forget that when we're so caught up in how the kid's not practicing the A-flat scale enough. Or when they haven't even practiced enough to get through the notes.

I feel this tremendous responsibility to lure these children into a lifelong love affair with piano. When I'm not achieving that with any certain kid--and Bill will back me up on this--I can't sleep. If they quit before they are hooked. That's the worst.

Dr. Suzuki says, "ability leads to ability." Truth. It's a circle--you practice and the piece gets better--and you love it more--and the next piece gets better and it's even more fun--and you see the pieces coming ahead and you can't wait to play them and you finally get there and you dig in and make it happen and you can't believe you're playing such a "hard" and great piece.  

But you can't do that unless you have the tools to go home and get r'done.

There's a poster floating around the web about the stages of learning a piece. It's something like-
1. Wow that's an awesome piece, I really want to learn that.
2 This is cool, I'm going to get to play this.
3. Hmm. It's a little harder than I thought.
4. Jeepers--I'm really poor at this.
5. I really don't think I like this piece anymore.
6. Actually, I hate it.
7. Well, it's is getting a little better everyday.
8. Hmm, I'm actually getting it.
9. This is a really cool piece.
10. I LOVE THIS PIECE.

You get the point. But some kids never get there. So here are a couple ideas for independent practicing.

1. Setting goals (you must set a goal for the week, and for each session at the piano)
2. Give specific assignments (get the A section at quarter note equals 80 or memorize the right hand of the B section)
3. Learn to break it down to the smallest necessary snippet. Go beat to beat and bar to bar (as Tadeusz and Paul teach).
4. Use tools like rhythms and blocking to fix the hard stuff.

Even the littlest ones can do a checklist of their own body. Feet, back, hands, fingers, eyes. Play. They are in charge of their very little bodies.

Parenting? That's a whole other story as well. The gist of the Gist book is--trying to parent less and let life do the teaching. This is especially hard for those of us whose default is talking and talking. Instead of fixing the behavior and getting on with it--we talk and talk and add shame to the cycle. Swift and consistent consequences are compassionate and offer optimum opportunity for redemption.

The Gist way: child spilled her milk? Child cleans it up. Done.

My way? I want to talk on and on about how if we had better table manners and were paying more attention and if you had your sleeves rolled up better. . . and probably this is the outcome of a complete lack of self control that really started back in preschool and really--you're gonna feel so stupid in the dorm cafeteria when you spill your milk all over your new friends. Jeepers, even the little piano kids don't spill like this. Here. Let ME CLEAN THAT UP WITH MUCH HEAVY SIGHING AND DRAMA.

I'm not always that bad. But I have to think about it all the time. And I still run the forgotten clarinet back over for band. (I think that might be the music teacher in me, band is only once a week. . . ) But I'm getting better about some things.

A lot of it comes down to having faith that we have good kids and that they're turning out fine and just letting life take care of the little stuff.  Kids know right from wrong.

Nurtured into independence. At the piano and at life. Confidence comes from achievement. The truest compassion is swift and consistent discipline. Teach the kids how to practice at every lesson. Less talk.

Happy weekend. A chance to do less parenting and maybe a little more gardening.