June 22, 2010

Well, it's been a while... good thing is I've been busy!

My days recently have included a wealth of practicing--at times seven hours a day.  My repertoire is growing quickly as well as my enthusiasm for the instrument.  Currently, I am working on...

Scarlatti Sonatas in D major k. 119 and b minor k. 27
Bach Prelude and Fugue in f minor, WTC II
Beethoven Sonata in E-flat major op. 7
Schubert Impromptus nos. 1-4, op. 90
Schumann Sonata no. 2 op. 22
Debussy Preludes "La fille aux cheveux de lin" and "Feuilles mortes"
Chopin Etudes op. 10 no. 12 and op. 25 no. 2
Messiaen "Petites Esquisses d'Oiseaux"

as well as a number of leisure pieces...

Liszt "En Reve"
Liszt/Wagner "Transcription of Pilgrims Chorus"
and others.

Beyond my work with my digits, I am strengthening my academic depth through my reading as well.  I recently finished the Prokofiev biography--finding that I know very little about Russian 20th century history to understand the context of his environment--and am quickly working my way through a concise biography of the life and works of Claude Debussy.  It seems that my stereotypical American provinciality is again obstructing my reading, rather pronunciation, of this overwhelmingly French-orientated book.  I find myself reassigning names to those whose names I see often; Gounod is now simply "Goon" and so forth.  Perhaps I could use some instruction from the very convincing--although accuracy is for the natives to decide--Jay Hershberger.  Always one to adhere to the most dramatic and accented version of a name, his interpretation of non-English words seem, if not by their enthusiasm alone, believable.

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My dad came to visit me last week.  We spent--he'll note that the word "spent" is an appropriate word--our time wandering the city, seeing the sites, and enjoying the many flavors of NYC.  He received a strong lesson in New York economics at a favorite bar of mine, the Russian Vodka Room.  Stepping into this bar--only a door from the street with a fitting Soviet banner above it advising patrons of the "Attitude adjustment hour"--one feels transported to the U.S.S.R. with its heavy, red velvet curtains, authentic Russian staff, and characteristically strong drinks.  Ordering my father an inaugural martini, as well as one of my own, we enjoyed the lively atmosphere and our drinks when they arrived.  As we prepared to leave, my father, letting his wallet bleed for me a little more, pulled out 20 dollars expecting that to cover the bill.  His eyes dropped to the bottom of the receipt where a New York welcome of 35 dollars ordered him to reach back into his pocket.  As it turns out, rent is not cheap and neither is anything else here.  Yet, it is a constant reminder that I now share a tiny--though not as tiny as my father expected my apartment to be--slice of an amazing city whose gushing current of cash supports some of the most wonderful opportunities.

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Otherwise, I have been to some concerts lately.  Though a while back now, I briefly saw Yo Yo Ma through a thicket of people and gaps in the grandstand at Central Park during a free concert there.  I have attended two concerts at Mannes School of Music (The New School) featuring composers Xenacis and Elliot Carter respectively.  These very contemporary pieces were full of moments of beauty, but on the whole, I would equate these concerts to a musical concussion.

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Each day, I am feeling more comfortable in these city surroundings.  My confidence as a New Yorker is growing and my interactions with people--and my growing friend population because of it--reflect that.