Beyond the MFA

This update is very much overdue, but I am happy to say that last year, I graduated with my Master of Fine Arts in Classical Piano and Musicology!

Performing Ravel's Valses nobles et sentimentales

In the process of earning my MFA, I met one of my most important personal goals for the program: presenting a full-length solo recital. If it were not for the late and much missed Mr. LaRatta, my piano teacher, I am not sure I would have accomplished it as smoothly as I did. He believed in me, and eventually, I came to believe in myself.

Performance is fraught with peril - the misgivings and doubts one has of oneself can neatly sabotage any attempt - and the endurance required to play a full hour and a half was something I had to work steadily towards. In the end, the self-doubt was what I wrestled with the most; strength was not an issue.

I recently came across my own reflections on my musical progress, written shortly after I had given my full-length recital. I realized anew just how precious this journey has been. Earning my MFA and reaching the milestone of a solo recital marked the beginning of new effort and more hard work towards the never-ending quest to learn, to understand more - and more deeply - everything I do, be it the art of practice, the art of performing, or the art of listening.

I humbly share with you my reflections from last year, as I neared graduation and considered my progress. In the end (or in the beginning!) my underlying motivation is about creating something new within myself that I can share with others. The reason for all my exertions is so that I may express the joy and deep emotion that blooms when music of the great composers surges through me. I am galvanized anew. It is time to practice!

Semester-End Reflection

My priority this semester, and indeed one of the milestones of my studies, has been to hold a full-length recital. My baseline goal was to have attempted it and to have pulled it off without any major calamities. Happily, my experience demonstrated that I do have the ability to focus, and that with enough preparation I can trust myself enough to let the music happen.   

The sudden, seizing doubt that has plagued me so often when playing in front of others was blissfully absent during my performance. Not once did I warn myself not to botch a challenging section, and not once did I ask myself if I knew my left hand. It was absolutely thrilling to put my hands on the keyboard and simply begin making music.

Alas, simplicity belies the work and dedication required to enable it, but if playing the piano were an easy feat would its pursuit be so rewarding (that is, when it is not utterly frustrating)?

This recital was the culmination of many (and admittedly not enough) hours of focused practice not only at the piano but also away from it as I mentally worked on pieces during a morning run, in the car, or while lying in bed when sleep eluded me. The knowledge that my efforts allowed me to fly free and to focus wholeheartedly on sharing beautiful music with others is gratifying beyond any measure.

As I embark on new repertoire I feel as though I am back to square one. It is a reminder that I am always learning, and that there are countless opportunities to broaden and to nuance my understanding of music, of practice, of reading, of listening, and of many more aspects I hope to discover. Every experience is one from which to build upon. Each experience shapes me and informs my next endeavor.         

As the end of the semester draws near, I head also towards my graduation. I cannot believe that this part of my journey is coming to an end, but I realize that this only means that I am leaving a particular framework. The wonderful community of mentors and classmates I have been privileged to know will always be with me in some form; their support and advice will guide me as I practice and perform throughout life’s many journeys. To them I give my heartfelt gratitude, and I wish them well as we continue sharing our love of music in whatever ways we will.

Patience, Grasshopper!

That frustrated person is me, talking to me ... 

Did I mention that I finally applied to, was accepted, and began work towards an MFA? I’m so happy, although it’s been challenging given my workload with a full time job and practicing. However, I am proud that I’ve pledged further commitment to music and the piano.

I’ll be perfectly honest: This path is not easy for me. I began learning four new pieces this year, and it has proven a significant test of resilience and prioritization. It’s not as if I’m learning four concertos, but these pieces aren’t exactly small. I’m learning a French Suite by J.S. Bach comprised of seven dances, a Beethoven sonata, a Brahms Rhapsodie, and a mercifully more compact Liszt waltz. There are of course the technical drills as well, and the upkeep up the complete set of Ravel Valses nobles et sentimentales.

It’s valuable practice to play regularly in front of others to get used to the act of performance. With these pieces, it has taken me much longer to have mustered the courage to bring anything to the wonderful performance workshops offered to me and my fellow pianists. Despite knowing that the workshops are a safe environment for students and professionals alike to try out their pieces, 80% of the time I still think, “Ouch, I’m out of my league!”

Feeling unworthy, last semester I attended several workshops to learn from others but didn’t play anything myself. I not only felt guilty about that, I struggled with an overall sense of slowness. I felt weighed down by the nagging feeling that I wasn’t making enough progress.

Case in point: I’d originally hoped to present at least one entire work by the end of the spring semester. Instead, I slogged laboriously through my pieces at home and felt like I was getting nowhere. Still so many mistakes, still so slow! my inner voice harangued. 

In my more delirious moments, I’d sometimes picture a sturdy woman wearing a bandana and apron over her skirts, her beefy arm held aloft as she shook a flour-encrusted rolling pin and shrieked in a vaguely German accent, “You want to plays Brahms?! You must do better! Get to work!!” Ja, gnädige Frau! (Yes, ma’am!)

In other words, I felt inept as a pianist. It took me awhile to realize that it was pointless to focus on the concept of making progress - why not just concentrate on learning all the notes down pat so I could get to the exhilarating part - figuring out how to make music?

On some days when I wasn’t too tired after a full day’s work and (frustrated) practicing, I would play through several pieces that I’d already learned - Chopin, Ravel - and simply let go to feel the music. In the end, exhausted but happier, I would feel that maybe - just maybe - I was a halfway decent piano student!

I’m actually glad it turned out to be tough. My journey back to the study of piano and music is about learning and growth, and I now see how fortuitous it was that I began learning several new pieces at once. It has been a test of my patience, fortitude, and concentration.

I count having muddled through the first movement of Beethoven’s Piano Sonata Op. 26, No. 12 at the workshop a milestone of sorts. And recently, I played the first three dances from Bach’s French Suite No. 5. Even though my fingers went pell-mell during the Courante, it was a psychological victory, a victory towards the project I like to call “Get Over Yourself!” 

I felt myself glow a little when my piano teacher told me I have the “right feeling” for each of the dances.

Every experience means more learning and accumulated growth over time. The challenges of the last semester have given me new perspective. It is a humbling and welcome journey. I feel I can forgive myself more.

And hey! If playing classical music on the piano were that easy, all this wouldn't be so much fun, now would it?