ODE TO SPRING

 

 These erratic changes in temperature have impeded my enthusiasm for the upcoming first day of spring.. It's 70 degrees one day (Fahrenheit) and 40 the next. Frost is predicted for tonight.
I can't handle radical temperature fluctuations.

Today was very chilly and windy and I was tempted to crawl into bed and hibernate.
Instead, I forced myself to think sunny thoughts and made a springtime video. 

It's very short - just a minute and a half - but I tried to incorporate some glimpses of spring: flowers, chicks, bunnies...
The music is by Mendelssohn, piano interpretation by me.

If that isn't enough to infuse springtime warmth into your heart, I'm also offering my performance of Rustle of Spring by Christian Sinding (1856 - 1941).

 

 

I've posted this video several previous times, but just pretend like you haven't seen it and try to feign admiration and astonishment. I recorded this in Texas during the summer when it was 110 degrees.
(the audio is loud on this, you'll have to tone it down)

Welcome to spring!

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RONDO CAPRICCIOSO

One of the problems I've always had as a pianist was an intense fear of performing. I had no doubts about my talent or capability - but I had an intense terror of making a mistake or having memory failure. 

Whenever I gave a public performance, my main goal was to get through it alive and with as few mistakes as possible.

My performance fears were compounded whenever I was being recorded or videotaped. Press a Record button anywhere near me and I instantly freeze.

With an over-sensitive musical ear and a strong penchant for being self-critical, I can always hear flaws when I listen to my recordings. My recorded performances are never (or seldom) relaxed. I always seem to be pressing forward merely to get to the end.

In all honesty, however, I usually manage to do a reasonably good job in dangerous (pianistically speaking) situations. I have never edited or dubbed my recordings, like some musicians do. What you hear is exactly how it was performed. Flaws and all.

What's my point?
No point, really. Perhaps - in some strange, neurotic, roundabout way - I'm praising my recordings and realizing that I wasn't half as bad as I imagined.

I recently found this recording that I made in California when I was twenty. The audio quality isn't the greatest, but I managed to transfer the old tape to an mp3 file.

Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso op. 14 by Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847).
Mendelssohn wrote this piece when he was about 18 years old. 

Fair warning: it's over 7 minutes long.
Have a shot of whiskey before listening.

I posted this on Soundcloud because I wasn't in the mood to make a video for YouTube.

MY MUSICAL PAST

I seldom write about my musical past. It lingers on the misty edge of a distance that no longer seems real. It is impossible to ever fully recapture those times, and - to be truthful - it's heartbreaking for me to remember what was....

...my youth in California when I was inspired, exuberant, energetic, optimistic. To say that I was a professional musician is no exaggeration. Despite my reckless, shiftless Hollywood years, I also managed to (later) go to college and study with some of the finest teachers in the country. I composed, conducted, worked as an accompanist, and gave solo concerts. I also performed with numerous orchestras.

After I left California at the age of 34 (for too many reasons to go into) I embarked on a life far removed from any semblance of excitement, fulfillment, glamor, or inspiration. I lived in the Missouri Ozarks, West Texas, and now Tennessee. During this time I encountered more problems, obstacles, and incredibly bad luck than I'd care to remember - which eventually expunged my heart and soul. I was rendered nothing more than a bitter, cold relic - a pale shadow of my former self.

Despite everything, I still had my music and my memories to hang onto. When I moved to Tennessee, however, the movers lost all of my diaries, journals and mementos. They also lost many of my California photos and more than half of my music manuscripts. That's when I finally completely gave up. My past was rudely severed forever.

During my active years as a musician, I made over 300 piano recordings (all are catalogued). Many of them were lost, but - fortunately - I still have some of my ancient, original cassette tapes.

The other night I started listening to some of the tapes, and somehow my spirit was rejuvenated. They are completely unedited, crude, and in mono - but at least they retain glimpses and glimmers of my musical past.

I'm presently in the process of transferring (some of) these tapes from cassette to 3MP files - via Audacity.

Last night I made two of these files into videos for YouTube. The videos themselves aren't very good, and the audio is extremely poor - but at least it gives an idea of my former piano virtuosity.
These piano tapes were both recorded in Los Angeles when I was in my very early 20's.