Wish I was an English muffin...

Piano summer.

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 13:27:36 -0500

The only course keeping me from graduation is piano--I'm making up for the three semesters of piano lessons that were spent on guitar instead. A summer of piano, and then BAM! I have a music degree. Exciting, yes?

Except I has a battle, and it is not a battle I'm winning. (And I'm not talking about my battle with the urge to use lolspeak all the time.) It's called Chopin's Ballade No. 3 in A-flat, and it's mostly destroying me. I'm about 6-pages into the total 13-pages, and out of those six pages I can play 1/2 of one decently.

Sight-reading is my serious weakness, which makes the process of working through a piece as massive as a ballade even slower and more laborious than it is already. Because of this the good news is that most of those 6 pages are already memorized; the bad news is, I pretty much can't play anything till it is memorized. This is why my piano lessons are typically characterized by really weak starts in the semester followed by surprising bursts of progress towards the middle of the term.

Here's a video I love of the Chopin Ballade No. 3--if nothing else, because the man's adorable and knows how to choose a coat (seriously, nothing is sexier on a man than tails). But you know, also because he's amazing. Home boy should be a conductor--look at those facial expressions! He's into it!

Zimerman plays Chopin Ballade No. 3

(3:51 ftw on that video.)

If you enjoy that video, you'll find all four of Chopin's ballades as performed by this cat are posted (and were played back to back? omgwtfbbq mental endurance). No. 4 is quite possibly one of the most impressive compositions for piano of all time, in my not-so-expert opinion (but I'm pretty sure most people would agree).

Alright, I've watched some Chopin, I've chowed down on the local gas station's chicken sandwich ("Clux Delux--More Clux for Your Bucks!"), I've blogged... all that's left to do is--gulp--practice.

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One more.

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Fri, 09 May 2008 04:45:03 -0500

Courtesy o' my pal/brother from another mother Brian (the one that married my best friend, not the one I date). And really, courtesy of a Mister Ludwig van Beethoven:

Joie Molden 1

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Music...

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 12:06:29 -0500

My senior recital... was basically everything I hoped it would be. I can't even begin to describe it thoroughly or accurately. I went to my early classes, but skipped wind ensemble to go in pursuit of more pedal-appropriate shoes (the ones I had, though adorable, were a slight distraction to me given that they're about 4 inches tall and can make tricky pedaling a bigger challenge). I was expecting this trip to be a bit of a waste of time (although I recognized the important therapeutic benefits of going shoe shopping to calm oneself) when, after just 15 minutes at the shopping center, I walk into Belk, find the absolute perfect pair of shoes: black, strappy, cute, short and not-pointy heel, and OH BTW ON SALE FOR $20. They had two sizes left: 6 and 7 1/2; my size 8-8 1/2 feet slid in comfortably and though the heel bordered on the edge of the shoe, all was well in Toe Land and Comfortville. A SERENDIPITOUS SHOE EXPERIENCE, INDEED.

Okay, that part I can begin to describe thoroughly and accurately. What I can't describe is what it's like wondering if when you get out on stage, you'll forget how to play the piano altogether; what it's like standing slightly off-stage, listening to more and more people file in (we had 90 programs and apparently ran out); what it's like as the stage manager calls up to the whoever and gives the order to cut the house lights; what it's like to walk out onto a brightly lit stage with the most gorgeous piano you've ever laid eyes on while all of your college friends and a surprising number of your high school ones are clapping and waiting for you to play it. I can't describe well sitting down and the tremendous force of will it takes to make yourself just start (a problem vocalists or instrumentalists may not generally have, as they're just sort of shoved out of the airplane by their accompanist), or that truly magical feeling when you overcome your nerves, remember how much you love the music, and manage to start enjoying the experience. Dare I say it? I had a BLAST. Performance anxiety Joie, the girl whose lack of formal piano education up till college has given her some sort of inferiority complex, loved giving a piano half-recital.

And now, what I really can't describe: sitting backstage and listening to your amazingly talented peers play 30 minutes of music you composed. That's all I can say, because it was an experience to which words just don't do justice. There are few times in my entire life that I've been so happy. And may I just say, the second bow thing? Pretty much the coolest perk of a recital ever. "Look at me and clap! Continue clapping so that you may look at me again!" Magic, baby!

I had to get all that out. I'm so thankful for this amazing, once in a lifetime opportunity. I spent literally four years waiting for that day to come, and never thought it would get here. Now that it's over, I'm a mixture of sad and relieved... but I don't think I could've hoped for a better overall experience.

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The silent but annoying symptoms of stress.

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Sun, 13 Apr 2008 05:26:59 -0500

I am Joie's Raging Inability to Sleep. (And Joie, apparently, is still reading or at least thinking about reading Fight Club.)

For the past several weeks, I've been mostly unable to go back to sleep if I'm woken up after about 8 in the morning. (Okay, I realize lots of people need to be up before that time--I do, too, some days--but I'm a college student, and damn it all, I reserve my right to sleep until 3 in the afternoon whenever I feel like it.) It's... exceptionally annoying. But as soon as I wake up inadvertently or am woken up by someone/thing, my head starts going, making a list of what needs to be done, and any hope of remaining blissfully asleep is gone.

Apparently in the days leading up to my recital, this time has been pushed back to 5 in the freaking morning. No less, on a Sunday. I give you the big DOUBLE-YOU TEE EFF, brain. Brian (...a surprising juxtaposition of two words only a letter swap apart [holy shit I know how to use "juxtaposition" at 5 in the morning?!]) called me after returning home from his very late gig, and as soon as I got off the phone my brain started thinking, "You're really not comfortable enough with that Beethoven sonata yet. You should practice."

Ok, Brain, I thought back, we'll practice today. A lot.
"We should probably go through it, I dunno, a lot of times in a row," nagged Brain.
Yes, I agree. We'll get right on that today and do it every day until my recital, Brain. I proceeded to go back to sleep.
"...Joie?" pestered Brain. "I think Brian called you before this last time and you said something really stupid out of sleepiness. I can't remember what it was. What was it?"
~ a call to Brian to confirm I in fact, did not answer the first time he called and did not say anything stupid related to the dream I was having about Coda, Heather's new baby bunny ~
There, Brain. Nothing said. No bunnies mentioned. Good-night.
"You have to wear a dress and heels today."
Irrelevant information, Brain. Good-night.
"...You still have to name those three movements of the flute and marimba piece, you know. I wonder if anyone's at the practice rooms now?"
...Okay, I'm up.

This is the part where I assure you I'm not insane. But I think it was Nick who noted his affinity for my I-woke-up-ridiculously-early-and-can't-go-back-to-sleep-posts, and this one goes out to him.

Off I go to the music building. At 5:25. In the morning. On a Sunday.

Edited to Add: Ah, and if you didn't figure it out, I passed my piano jury. Much drama was involved, including my almost failing it after the first piece I played--a Bach prelude and fugue, bless the man--but after agreeing to drop that piece and recovering pretty well considering how upset I was, they passed me! I'm glad to be rid of it, honestly.

Edit #2: The only thing more annoying than waking up at 5 in the morning with an urge to practice is going to the music building at 5:30 in the morning and discovering one's security card apparently won't let you in that early. And that Captain McResponsible on the University Police has decided that maybe he'll go ahead and do his job this time and lock every door in the building. A grrr on everyone!!!

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"I loved you the first time I saw you / And I always will love you, Marie."

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 09:31:37 -0500

Have I talked about Randy Newman? Yes, no, maybe? Well, if not, it's time, my friends (four commas in one sentence?!). (And then four punctuation marks?!) (Edit: Um, aka 3 commas. I'm a freakin' music major, shut up.)

I love Randy Newman. Not like. Love. I would tell Randy Newman I am in love with him, it's that serious. I realize lots of people enjoy making fun o' the Newman--yes, yes, I understand, he has a silly voice--but his songs! His orchestration! His amazing talent!

Now here's why I suck: I honestly only have one Randy Newman album, and oh dear... it's a "Best Of," which of course makes me a giant poseur. It won't stop me from raving about him! Based on everything I've heard, I think Randy Newman is one of my favorite songwriters of all time. (A brief High Fidelity moment: My Top 3 Songwriters: Ben Folds, Randy Newman, Paul Simon. In no order.) I'm pretty positive I'm one of about maybe 14 people in their early twenties who enjoy Randy Newman, and I think that's a shame. I bring to you two songs I can't stop listening to, "Marie," and one whose premise is just amazing and whose execution is equally so, "Sail Away." (Furthermore, I freaking love the orchestration in the opening of Sail Away; nerd that I am, I plan on breaking it down soon and figuring out how to replicate that sound.)

Marie

Randy Newman

Sail Away

Randy Newman

(Also, I'm still the idiot who doesn't understand how to format stuff so you see more than that silly sound icon.) sdede2, I dunno where you are, but I miss you and expect a comment from you expressing your thoughts on Randy Newman!

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Life as of this moment.

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Wed, 31 Oct 2007 20:39:44 -0500

Madness, I tell you, madness!

It's that busy point in the semester. Fortunately, I feel like things have been going well school-wise. Yesterday I had my best piano lesson of the semester (quite possibly ever?) in which I actually had fun. Normally I'm much too terrified and craptacular to enjoy myself. But somehow practicing my ass off last week + taking the weekend off practicing turned into Madd Piano Skillz. I managed to get my most difficult piece up to performance tempo--and by "performance tempo" I mean what will be my performance tempo. The written tempo (and from the sound of it, the tempo in this recording) is quarter note = 160-172. I shall be playing it somewhere between quarter note = 120 and 138. (Partially because my Skillz aren't that Madd, but also because it does lose something at such a quick pace.) Go ahead; have your 3 minutes of modern music for the week:

Trois Pieces: II. Toccata. (Probably French for "Oh, snap!")

Pascal Rogé

I've been working on this piece for an embarrassingly long time, and I can't tell you what a relief it was to sit down at a piano Monday and realize I could make it through at my Ultimate Goal tempo (132). It was a further relief to go to my piano lesson and kick some ass on my Brahms piece too. (I'll share that one as soon as I find my recording of it.)

Other good news is that I found out I was chosen as Senior Elite for the music department! Nerd that I am, I squealed quite a bit. I'll be sharing the award for Senior Elite in BM Performance with someone else (since, uh, I'm not performance), BUT I DON'T CARE. I WIN THINGS. YAY. Also, my name goes on a plaque. WHICH THE WORLD SHALL HAVE TO LOOK AT FOR CENTURIES TO COME. (Which is why, at least in conversation with Brian, I have dubbed this honor my "Eternal Glory.")

Even better news regarding Senior Elite is that the ceremony is next Wednesday evening... and Brian just happens to be flying in that morning for a week-long stay. After he watches me receive my ETERNAL GLORY Wednesday evening, we'll be celebrating the big Dos Años Friday. And the Alabama Symphony just happens to be opening their new concert series for our school that night, so woot-to-the-woot.

The only thing that could make this week better is having an excellent composition lesson tomorrow; the past four (how sad is it that I've been counting?) have been great. Let's hope I get some more good work done tonight.

And that's what's new in the Life of Joie. ...Just thought I'd share.

Edit: Graghla... the audio isn't working for me, not sure if everyone else is having that problem. I bought it off iTunes... does that prevent things from being uploadable? =(

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The hazards of practicing.

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Thu, 18 Oct 2007 16:03:36 -0500

Ladies and gentlemen, I've done it: I've injured myself by being responsible.

Let me go ahead and say that I practiced piano this morning. I had done a sufficient amount of practicing. Yet this afternoon, I said, "Oh, I'll be ultra good and practice for another hour or so." I ignored the fact that I was too sleepy to get much done, and decided to practice a little longer before taking a nap. I pulled out this semester's most difficult piece and got to work. I got to the very end: an accented staccato 8th note, in this case the lowest note on the piano, played fortissimo. It might as well say "Please hit the shit out of this note" above it. I was enthusiastic. I came down hard. My finger was ready to deal some musical pain.

Except I hit the note and somehow, with the tiniest bit of excessive fingernail that I have going on right now, I managed to catch a little piece of the wood of the old Steinway. I felt something surprising and unpleasant, looked, and noted the enormous splinter of wood sticking about a third of the way up under my fingernail.

It didn't hurt, but SWEET MERCY that image frightened the crap out of me. I quickly removed it before my brain had time to process the picture and decide, "This is probably terribly painful; let's explore that." I left a note in the piano technician's box re: VERY DANGEROUS AND SCARY WOOD FRAGMENTS, and looked for another pianist to empathize with my gross-looking nail bed, but was unsuccessful. So I called my mommy and whined to her instead.

We'll see how this works out--I'm going to be very frustrated if I wake up tomorrow with a ring finger that's too sore to practice or type.

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QotD: The Best Brew

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Mon, 12 Feb 2007 10:04:17 -0600

What method do you use to prepare your coffee or tea?
Submitted by AgentBouche.

I get out a mug, pour the coffee into said mug, clean up the inevitable spill (apparently leaky pot + Joie is a klutz = not good for counters), and proceed to drink. It's a complicated process, I know.

A quick morning post because for whatever reason, for the past 24 hours I've cared nothing about homework and am suddenly madly in love with music the way I used to be. Honestly, sometimes I feel like I've recently married music, but now we're hitting that point where our relationship is starting to lose its spark because you know, we see each other all the time and are becoming accustomed to one another's idiosyncrasies (which have turned from endearing to annoying). And maybe music is a little worried because I've renewed my supposedly platonic relationship with English, and music is like, "Hey? What are you doing?" And I'm like, "Music, calm down. You are my first major, English and I are just friends. It's you that I'm going to do graduate work in. And I can't imagine pursuing a doctorate for anyone but you, my dear." And then music is all relieved and our relationship is at least temporarily revitalized, and we shirk all of our responsibilities to make sweet lovin'.

Translation of the Previous Paragraph: I blew off all homework in favor of listening to and playing music, and it felt good. (...Clearly I should not be allowed to drink coffee, as doing so results in bizarre metaphors in which I "make sweet love" to an abstract concept [the music major]. It also apparently makes me unable to resist the temptation to put subthoughts in my subthoughts.)

The whole purpose of this post (can anyone else tell I used QotD as an excuse to write a long, stupid entry?) is that while tooling around on the piano this morning, I remembered a little theme I absolutely loved from the movie The Great New Wonderful. It's so simple and cute (without being sugary and silly), and if I remember correctly it plays throughout the movie's opening scene. I couldn't find a video of that, so please enjoy this link to the movie trailer (if you have Quicktime). The particular theme I'm talking about comes in towards the end, right where it says "Rebuilding is a process," but I recommend you watch the whole trailer--I enjoyed the movie, although it was by no means a comedy (as the DVD case and the presence of both Stephen Colbert and Jim Gaffigan would have you believe).

Aaaaand I'm done now.

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One more thing...

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Mon, 02 Oct 2006 17:25:21 -0500

If anyone could find a way to send me the piano version of "The Oath" from FFVIII, I would love them forever. I love the orchestra version, too, but y'know. Piano is like sex for me.

Now listening to...

Final Fantasy S Generation

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A quickie. (Doesn't Vox feel used...)

nobody@vox.com(Joie) — Sun, 17 Sep 2006 00:53:03 -0500

Just to say what I listened to on the drive home tonight.

Waking Hour

And I desperately want the album Warm Strangers, but finances won't allow it at the moment. She's a fantastic singer/songwriter with an inviting voice and some beautiful piano work.

And that's that.

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