Practice Journal 6 & Diatribe

​Is this a journal that contains information of instrument practice? Yes.

Is this a practice of making a journal? Yes.

Oh the conundrums and fancies of life. Anything that puzzles...

I'm puzzled. I like that spin of two words. We don't use it often enough in general conversations. Though, I have noticed that people in positions of that sort of small corporate faux-power use that phrase more than others. As in: "Mr. Simmons, I am puzzled by..."

Involved in two concerts today-I accompanied both groups... they were pretty fun, and easy going. I was pleased that both directors of these groups both thanked me! A simple thank you is something rarely mentioned to educators, and definitely a mysterious occurence when you are a hired contractor that plays at at a concert level for students that barely, if at all extend any sort of effort. My heart certainly does go out to most teachers except...well, if you want that list, I can email it to you. Rarely in the agora of an educated society in 2023, in a pre-collegiate graded school does a mention of "thanks" get offered up, so any acknowledgment of a contractor's existence is welcome. Money talks though, so maybe silence is the true gold...

I can't imagine what it must be like at one of the "private" or preparatory schools in town, but luckily for the teachers at those "institutions" education certification and education collegiate degrees are not always needed. Just a random degree...or perhaps just an interest in a subject (?), yet I know there are possibly more fussy facets to hurdle through quickly as to make the position seem bougie. As seen with multiple colleagues from college, all my history and Latin majoring friend's only post-college job in the area was at private elementary-high schools or independent tutoring, or the puppy mill/racket that is tutoring. No need to worry about that education certification hunnn... A great deal of my most brilliant and talented teaching friends are in these private clubs of institutions- simply because they want to teach and share, and not do the education route in college, or perhaps they had a career change. Are private institutions still of this adage? I advocate for teachers to prove their skills, not show that they can answer institutional questions to get a degree- I have a degree, and every single job that I have was because of my self learning and pursuit. I had instrument coaches of course, though I have always made my own way career-wise with zero assistance from a higher learning institution. My work is proven on a daily basis with my personal skill- not my ability to pass a chemistry exam and tell you about the economy in New Delhi. As with our blundering, closeted, in the cups, face of our state, it does everything in its power to ruin any iota of thinking for one's self, I respect and feel such pity for my colleagues at the teacher level of any kind. That's another subject, and this was just meant to be a note of notice of the general fallacies of state-forced educational systems..

My perceptions could be outdated as I will say that this writing is perhaps a comedic farce, sort of. Firstly, while my education may have been a mess, I was also lucky to have a very creature-comfortable existence.  I never wanted, or suffered for anything besides understanding of the circus, and to get away from backwards and cruel people.  That understanding is unravelling itself twenty-three years later. 

​Certainly my education in my hometown's high school and no doubt the overwhelmingly unprecedented majority of my education in that hamlet of what was then, not a great place for me...from the public school system is quite possibly the most ludicrous and stupid and stuttering excuse of an educational experience in a modern time. But hey bro, it's okay- you should see the rest of the class of 2000.  Lord, have mercy.  Fortunately, I forced myself how to speak like a civilized troglodyte, and can pen a messy sentence. The life of a student in my location in 1993-2000, relentless bullying at school, religious bullying from every angle of colleagues and family (AND I was a church musician- it's just that everyone was so self-righteous to even having forced prayer in marching band), dealing with  a severely sauced, emotionally manipulative father at home- these things energized me to going to spending most of my time away from home, in which I learned the skills to create my own scene (and I still feel as if I am a wanderer), also- work (I have worked almost full time since age 14), and the piano practice- that is de riguer, hours a day.  Survival instincts told me what to do. The piano had become a tool and still serves as the vehicle to assist me in getting out of there, and where ever I want to go, be, escape from- not far, but far enough to see the corruption that was my high school in year 2000. I wish I had been more worldly and just quit school and left the horrible place, though I didn't have the foresight or spine. In retrospect, I did a lot of things to try to get out before I was "allowed" to, I just didn't know the correct ways of actually executing an exit plan. Luckily, my mother had the foresight to have me take lessons at the University of Alabama in Huntsville when I was 14 (through college), and that was always a real treat and blessing, to get to the "big city" once a week, and forget about the less colorful times at home. I only have one true friend from my years in school, and we consider one-another brother and sister, and lucky for me, I adopted myself into her family!

The schools of my city were no doubt the meanest, and vilest of bullying situations, because the teachers simply did not want to get involved, and for some of the teachers, they enjoy meanness, not all, but some. No doubt, our physical science teacher was a sexual predator, and of course in that town a southern self-indoctrinated "preacher" - he encouraged hate, as he would even talk about his religious views in a class that was meant to be about science. Jim somebody- if I could remember his name, I'd call him out. Jim someone- except considering him a person is kind of generous. He loved for the gals to drop pencils.

It's a fact of life- we are all humans we LOVE schadenfreude. Schadenfreude in the name of the lord or school bullying-that was the sexiest and most popular execution performed by teachers and students. I do relish in schadenfreude, especially, and I have the pen now- you can do as you like when you write. Pining deeply for the general and elevated education of my hometown (and family) used to be a a life-long and seemingly futile concern (crystal clear now that I was wasting my time), but, in year 1998, it was only important for a corpulent, porcine, permanent scowl of a high school counselor to tell my parents that it recommended that I should school and need to volunteer to pick up garbage for my career. I promise, I was not even wild by most stretches of the imagination. Here's looking at you Hunny- if it ever can educate itself to read run-on sentences, and it reads this, I sincerely wish that it knows that I made it...not far, but far enough I may pity its misery in its last years from a window far above its station of self-righteous spinsterdome. I wonder what person ruined her dreams? Or was she just there to be a monster? Piquing my psyche, it believes that it is a pianist... I think it still plays at the piano and hatefully hog-eyes people from her smelly lodge of a hopefully re-bolstered land plot of a mammoth bench, no doubt a perch that screams when its rotund, colossal overgrowth of porkular vitriolity wedges onto it. Its piano keys perpetually stink of Vicks vapor rub, hamburgers, cats, and canned mackerel. I can't believe I gave it a hug at a concert once...I feel filthy now.

Forgiveness is key, Schadenfreude is fun...

​Very fun.

The ticky tacky little boxes of learning rooms (that rather should be called "*NAME OF INSTITUTION*: I paid for my not-terribly bright, over-privileged child to go to a school where they can get a pre-college admission greased palm situation." Or, Perhaps being part of a certain clique for the parents is a major part. (Don't forget your art museum table setup job before you sell those rotten apples for too much) We have the 8 a.m. Denali (no doubt soon to all be a rover {or whatever vehicle Manly Face peddles to the nouveau riche to best get the highest interest rate to be paid by these parents to also best show-off and put on heirs in the car parking line- oooooh BUT wait, she has Kombucha and Burrito Daddy voucer handouts? SOLD!-Hey bro, how about a round at the Ledges though? Can ya' throw that in there, bud? Hey, and would you hook me up with your tailor and barber?  Braaaaaaah see ya on da courts my brutha!} to "fit in" with old-money parents and the new confused ones- at the school car line) then.... THE drop off by Vicodin mom and the Adderall kids (no doubt the wretched tots also with a pocket of other tablets, and illegal ones in the pockets of the high schoolers stealing medicine from the physician parents) then (Please Mom, don't be late with my kamelbak, Soccer Gear, Organic Lunchable, but the kind from Whole Foods- with the endangered grapes- and please mom, don't forget your little yellow candies you eat out of the amber bottle all the time- we like you better after you have had your candy, and your special medicine drink)

THE Pickup: after 3 or after the after school projects, then a BMW or Tesla pick up by wine lunch and wine water bottle mom (assisted by a Xanax crumble from the cupholder- though sometimes Dad stirs from his dark room and drives down in his giant truck) after school. Junior must be so proud, Dad in in old money unemployed haze, mom in a complete stupor, and the children none the wiser. Everyone is filled with delight and praise! No doubt, back home in time to just see dad wipe off that pesky red chapstick from his cheek, and see that the neighbors wife leaves safely through the patio door.  This IS is private school in affluent Alabama. An interesting vision that I have picked up on, as I experienced such behavior with someone's family, first hand.  Please don't tell me the car line is going to be the new Southern Gothic?  Save us, St. Walker Percy.  

Earlier, I wrote/said "collaborate." Indeed. I also like to say accompany, or as in my personal preference, I prefer in a program printing to just be labeled as: Christopher-Joel Carter, Pianist (or whatever instrument that I am playing)

*We can actually leave out 'pianist' because, I have been at this over 35 years, people will know what I am doing, or they won't.

Subjecting myself to some recent performances of an acquainted "accompanist" (being awfully benevolently tongued as though a tender serpent; as accompanist or otherwise should be known as colitis key presser-they didn't bother to practice until too late in the rehearsal process), the victim being us, the torturer, is the pianist, with such a great and glorious plumage of ego, though as Vidal called Tennessee Williams the great bird, there was no plumage of good playing or product- yet blaring everywhere and everything in their bloated and miniscule curriculum vitae or biographies for programs, they (vocally chime in as well) make a point to let everyone know how instead of a musician, or a pianist, accompanist, or player, they are now "Collaborative Artist" or "Collaborative Specialist." I could gag. Yes, I love a Corinthian, highly glazed, lily guilding, and florid biography- but these titles are so superfluous. It appears to my ear that the times I have had to endure "Collaborative Artists" that neither of those words fit the situation. Is this the way of the future?  I don't like the name....too many syllables, too clinical, nobody likes it.  You're a musician not a title.  Digressing...Rome wasn't built in a day. Though, how fast was it destroyed?

Tonight's practice was on the angsty and sort of pissy side. Henry mis-behaved while I was at rehearsal. On top of that, one piece- one wretched piece, I hate it every time that we have to endure it- at said rehearsal was really of a quality best suited for excelsior...that's a fancy way of saying...well...

All you really need to do is look up Rhoda Penmark (I think that was her name) in the masterpiece "The Bad Seed" (intentionally leaving out the period)

It's rainy here, I have neck tension- yet, I got in around 3.5 hours of piano practice at home. Of course, I practiced some works, and some I just read through and made sure I had the rhythms and correct notes.

A facet I am working on and struggling with is moving the hand side to side- or even the forearm. Over the years, I find that I become a little insular and Bill Evans like- but not with that hunching. I am cognizant of my "core" and also, that is something I am working at. The tension in my arms and hands is ever-present unless I focus on that specifically. I don't want to think about that stuff. I want to be fluide 24/7. How is this possible? Learn the notes, the correct fingerings, repeat, relax- do that until you have mastered. Easy right? Quick? Absolutely. I just learned the complete works of Brian Ferneyhough in fifteen minutes. LOL!

Why this renaissance of my own practice and flame of interest? I don't know- I have a little more time on my hands (my watch battery died though, and I really don't want to go to the jewelry store and have to talk to the watch people*) to focus on things that make me a better musician. There have been some adjustments, in my lifestyle, and I have decided to not act as a babysitter to students...so instead of internalizing the noise of life and the claptrap hambone circus of students with needy demeanors, I have chosen to laser in on my own downfalls as a musician, and get to work on those. I'm 41, so I'm not at a point that I need to coast. The youngsters are very good lately. Of course, their knowledge of art or the arts in general is practically non-existent in 98%. This is not a complaint, perhaps the abstract lofty arts and the imagination aren't realms that every single person needs to have a mainline to anymore. Who needs imagination and philosophical reasoning, or the classics, when one has TikTok and Fox "news" ? Riddle me that? The Agora of the arts is now a baron wasteland once a forum rich in depth and interest in your fellow people's pursuits of higher understanding.

*Get it? I'm such a prankster de la praise....time on my hands? My watch...hahah. I'll be appearing at The Improv every Monday for the next season.  Also, Agora is a fantastic word that needs much more employment.  Gore Vidal used it, especially in those sort of movie essays- "Screening History" perhaps....

So, anyway, here are the pieces I worked at tonight:

The George Santos Falwell High Heel Shimmy Queen Song

Rachmaninoff:
Liebeslied (Kreisler)- practiced the begining and after the cadenza
Flight of the Bumblebee (Rimsky-Korsakov)- Fourth fingers and introduction, introduction still sticky, the rest of the piece- up to tempo
Moment Musicaux: 4 & 6

• Note learning still
• Wrist fluidity, tension elimination
• Letting the natural placement of the notes in the spectrum of pitch make their own accents and weight, instead of applying direct accent or pressure to bring out certain tones- the lines and syntax in Rachmaninoff phrase easily, if they aren't accented or pushed too hard.  
• I try not to see things as easy or difficult- but this music is certainly dense, and yes, it's hard.

Khachaturian: Toccata (Playing for the Postlude on Sunday)
"As the Deer" Arr. by Johan Kim (Transcribed/Re-arranged by me)

Rosza:   Spellbound Concerto (Solo version from the movie "Spellbound")-Prepared for concert work, new fingerings.  Inner voice movement.  Just a wonderful piece, has been a treat getting to know his widow a little bit.  I wish I could play an Ondes Martenot, I'd love to drop everything and go to Paris Conservatoire and learn it.  

Kapustin: 8 Concert Etudes Op. 40: 1 in C Major, Prelude

• Re-learning notes
• Re-learning fingering
• Moving arms instead of stretching fingers and wrists- close fingering
• Also tricky to count-
  • ​accents can be natural due to placement of the notes, though special articulation attention is needed constantly

Prokofiev:
Toccata

• Re-learning first several pages, learning the end
• Super tricky for me
• Trying to remain light, and swift-wristed

Suggestion Diabolique

• My 14 year old student mastered this piece, I looked at it in college a lot, my piano coach recorded this.  Why have I not pursued this?  So tricky, so fun.  Great harmonies.  Showcase supreme.
• Notes do not stick in my memory from learning them years ago- refreshing this.  

Prelude

• Never had played through this.  That was the first and last time.  Great for someone else.  

"Finger Buster" by Jelly Roll Morton

• I don't like this tune anymore, I'm not going to add it to the repertoire, though, I thought as a stride player, that we were "supposed to."

"On the Sunny Side of the Street" James Booker Transcription

• The Lounge Gospel Liberace of New Orleans, always in my top numbers of heros- that left hand though.  Jesus, help.  So good, tricky.  
• Left hand needs constant movement and walking,  but is also part of the right hand's show as well.  Good stuff.  Good transcription, not easy.  Will definitely keep in the files for the future.  

I got the "Bad Seed" picture from Wikipedia...

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