One day I’ll own my own piano like this, but for now I’ll admire it from afar and apparently just stare at the insides of them…haha.  Saw some of these Steinways while I was in San Francisco.

(image by: vivien chin)

Location: Boston, Massachusetts – WERS performance studio

The Steinway B is a popular piano amongst deal finders (as much as a grand piano can ever be considered a “deal”). Smaller in size than traditional 9′ concert grands, the Steinway B is, however, not a baby grand. Still officially a grand piano, its sound is lush and dark, containing the low end emphasis for which Steinway’s are known. Here’s an octave of the keyboard so you can judge for yourself:

Click Me!

This particular B is used less for classical music than most, seeing the use of a variety of rock, pop, jazz and musical theater acts that filter through WERS fm’s radio station. Requiring consistent servicing (especially tuning) because of the large rotation of acts, this Steinway has retained it’s luster into its 77th year and continues to add to the quality of radio performance in the Boston area.

bill k

Después de muchas semanas sin escribir en el blog, por no tener apenas tiempo, hoy me dispongo a escribir éste artículo sobre pianistas, compositores e intérpretes.

No pretendo hacer un artículo tan genial como los de mi compañero Tetrasquel, solo dar mi opinión sobre ciertas composiciones que he escuchado últimamente, que no por primera vez.

En primer lugar, quiero rajar hablar sobre Richard Clayderman, pianista francés muy reconocido (y escuchado) generalmente entre gente que no tiene ni puta idea de música. Para definir la obra de Clayderman podemos utilizar el término “música de ascensor”, porque no existe un término mas exacto.

A éste pianista se le ocurrió la brillante idea (entre otras cosas) de hacer “versiones” de obras maravillosas de Chopin, Debussy etc., orquestándolas de una manera cutre y muy hortera. Para mas información, véase su album “En su piano sin control. Grandes éxitos”, y no, no es un chiste. El álbum se llama así.

Para demostrar ésto, os dejo su interpretación de la Sonata para piano número 14 (También llamada Quasi una fantasia, Op.27, Nº2, y mal llamada Claro de Luna), de LV Beethoven. Obra que todo el mundo conoce.

ADVERTENCIA: Es de muy mal gusto. SigoPensando no se hace responsable de los efectos derivados de la escucha prolongada de la siguiente interpretación. Si la quiere escuchar, es bajo su responsabilidad.

Ahora la gran pregunta: ¿Cómo es posible que éste hombre vendiese mas de 70 millones de discos?, yo aun no lo entiendo. ¿Por qué la necesidad de orquestar una obra de tal calibre?, ¿Está mejor orquestada?, en fin…

Por si no fuera poco, ha estropeado la obra mas conocida de la Suite Bergamasque de Debussy (ésto es imperdonable). Yo no me atrevo a buscarlo en YouTube, pero os dejo para los mas valientes un link a Spotify para que se os pongan los pelos de punta. Pulsar aquí.

Para compensar el mal trago que habrá pasado el lector tras la escucha de ésta abominable y horrísona interpretación, dejo La Interpretación de Wilhelm Kempff, que es de lo mejor que he escuchado:

La siguiente persona de la quería hablar es de Maksim, un pianista realmente interesante, porque al contrario que Clayderman, sabe interpretar a la perfección obras como la Hungarian Rhapsody nº2 de Liszt, pero también hace barbaridades como orquestar el Revolutionary Etude de Chopin de la peor forma posible.

Veamos un ejemplo de la fantástica -y difícil- interpretación de la obra de Franz Liszt:

Fantástica, ¿verdad?. Además de interpretar genial la obra, Maksim está muy cachondo. Pero mucho mucho.

Ahora veamos, de la mano del mismo artista, la interpretación de Revolutionary Etude, de Chopin. Vayan preparando los oidos:

Sin comentarios…

En breves haré otro artículo recomendando alguna obra de música clásica, pero tranquilos, no habrá sobresaltos.

Un abrazo a todos.

I have a recital tomorrow (which I do believe I mentioned before), so I went in with my teacher to practice my piece and get used to acoustics and the tone of the pianos. I never knew that my city was the home of a piano rebuilder and tuner who tuned for masters of the art like Arthur Rubinstein and Vladimir Horowitz. He’s rebuilt nine-foot grands for Steinway, and they’re planning on shipping them down here from his storage space in California. I’m banking on his grands to be better than the one I was playing one earlier. It was bright, and rather torturous to the performer’s ears, though my teacher informed me that it sounded okay in the audience. Her nine-foot was really nice, good tone and everything.

And now, of course, I must go on my rant about pianos. I have discovered my ideal piano. The tone has to be equal throughout each key from bottom to top. I want the low notes to resonate a deep thunderous sound, the kind I associate with a charismatic man. I want the high notes to resonate a melodious tune, but not anywhere near the tinkly harpsichord, clavichord esque sound. I want immediate response that allows for somewhat lethargic fingers to play a crisp and clear-cut tune. I want to look up and see strings reaching to the end of the stage.

I have yet to play on a piano this perfect. Nothing I have touched has come close, nothing I can recall. I know that the Hamburg nine-foot was beautiful, but I hardly remember anything about it. Probably because of the fact that I was in the middle of a competition and had no time to critique the piano. Then again, not critiquing the piano might have been a good thing since there was nothing to critique.

I mean, I did spend all of my most recent competition wincing at the overly bright piano that I was given…

On another note, Happy Halloween!

**bit of a multiple personality-esque post…just how it goes sometimes..**

I’m a music head… and I don’t mean it like some tatted up hipster you meet at a show (you know who you are—shut your face and listen to the performer…your friends  in billysburg don’t care what show you’re at)….anyway…it all started back when I was 8 and my folks bought my twin bro and I a Steinway baby grand for hannukah.

A whole lotta things changed after that. My piano teacher, Bertha F. Lang, was a legendary pianist (who never let you forget it). While I was under her tutelage for only 9 years, her lessons still (loudly) ring in my head to this day. She taught me how to hear music. She gave me written,  take home assignments (in addition to 2 hr/daily practice) that other kids didn’t have to do with their other teachers (this went on for 9 years). And of course, being the ever-loving unrepentant radical child that I was, I gave her a ton of pushback when it came to putting in this ‘extra’ work. But in my typical bratty fashion, I dragged my feet and did the work anyway. Little did I know then, she was planting the seeds for not only how I breakdown and listen to music today, but how I deal with authority and tackle uncomfortable stuff in my life.

I think about her more often than not. I am grateful for the fact that I can still sit down and tear up some Chopin (or at least read it and then teach myself how to find my way back to it once again)….or hear a melody walking down the street. There are certain pieces that still bring me to my knees as though I’m hearing them for the first time all those years ago….she taught me through (strictly) teaching the classics and in-turn, trained my ear to respect and hear the present and everything else in between.

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I chose to slip into that slight diatribe on my musical upbringing to discuss MY new favorite fall show, GLEE!

BRILLIANT! Someone @ Fox deserves a raise.

Yes, of course, who doesn’t love Christopher Guests’ funny lady, Jane Lynch..she’s HIGHlarious. But on a more impressive note, when was the last time the majority of a TV ensemble were legit thespians?? It takes way more talent to be a stage actor than tv/film and this show is bridging that gap. Jocks and musical theatre heads unite!

What rules most about the show is its dead-on portrayal of the campy absurdity of how these glee/theater club types really are in high school. Driven, idealistic, sycophantic.

It would be remiss of me not to add that  my skin still crawls at the thought of the old glee club/theater club director at my high school (RHS, figure it out). He was no Mr. Schue..and all the hs rejection  probably prematurely threw me into a life of drugs & scandal (insert frowny face here) – I kid.  If you’re not anti-television (like a good little shit talker), you should tune in.

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I finally got my hands on the new Mountain Goats album,

so far, so good. I continue to really dig these guys. John Darnielle is one of the last few touring musicians around who is a true wordsmith. He’s a writer that thas taken on many different narratives from album to album. Each track on this new album (The Life of the World to Come) is inspired by a single verse of the christian bible…which, for my jewish ass, is an education. I’m really looking forward to these guys coming through dallas in the next few weeks. Get your tickets here.

See you at the ROCK show. Oh…Drive By Truckers play HOB (house of blues) Dallas tomorrow night.

LET THERE BE ROCK! Fingers crossed that they play it!

I grew up in a community in rural New Zealand where many of the adults played the piano, and many of the adults who didn’t play the piano did play some other instrument, and nearly all the other adults were either enthusiastic or talented singers.  I grew up thinking everyone had a piano in their home and that of course everyone would want to play some kind of musical instrument, even if it wasn’t the piano.

Adulthood in Sydney, Australia has provided me with many instances demonstrating the degree to which I got it so terribly wrong: this city is filled with (and run by) people who not only grew up without a piano in the home or the desire to play a musical instrument, but they really have no idea at all about what it means to play a piano, or even what a piano is.

I was at a party held one New Year’s Eve in Darling Point as a guest of a guest. Part of the reason I was there is that one guest had thought it might be fun to sing Auld Lang Syne around a piano as the old year slipped out, and the host thought this to be an excellent development.  I turned up at the party and was surprised to see no piano. “Oh yes, I forgot to get it out of the cupboard”, was the host’s response.  Sure enough, the ‘piano’ was a keyboard that didn’t even have the dignity of its own stand – it would simply sit on a desk or dining room table (if it ever did get out of the wardrobe).  At least it was touch sensitive although, of course, weighted keys would have been nice….

At another social event a well-known business identity was telling me how he had just bought a brand new piano for his daughter to start lessons.  ”What did you buy?”, I asked, meaning the question to refer to which brand of piano, and when this produced a hazy result I offered some names of manufacturers as a prompt: Yamaha, Kawai, Steinway? He’d clearly bought something else, so we moved on. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, “just tell me if you bought an upright or a grand.” This produced similarly blank looks, until he cried in triumph “Oh, I remember! It was a Casio!”

These two stories involve prominent Sydneysiders who would have had an excellent private school education and no lack of material resources whilst growing up.  It’s simply that they grew up with the complete reverse piano expectations to mine: they knew no one who had a piano in their home, or if they did have a piano no one played it. Music was certainly not something that one did.

And this is in a city whose international reputation is heavily associated with a performing arts venue.

By way of contrast, when I stayed in a modest hotel in Vienna for a night back in 2002 I asked the concierge if he could tell me where I might find a print music shop.  ”Ah, you want to go to Doblinger!” he responded, and drew me a little map so I could find my way there.  Admittedly, if it’s going to happen anywhere in the world, it would be in Vienna, but it was clear that all the local citizenry had a basic working knowledge of things musical, irrespective of their occupation or social status.

One facet of Australian life (outside of the ‘arts’) where you do find people playing musical instruments is in sport.  Many of the current Australian cricket team play instruments, and I’ve even seen a few of them perform at a a fundraiser for the Steve Waugh Foundation.  And doctors, as in the rest of the world, have an extraordinary incidence of instrumentalists (and even composers) in their ranks. An Australian GP, Peter Goldsworthy, is the author of Maestro, a fantastic fictionalised account of his own piano studies that has been widely included in literature courses (but note that he resides in Adelaide).

Sports people certainly have a widely recognised and valued brand, and doctors still command a reasonable degree of respect in the community, but when it comes to those who run Australian business, politics and media there seems to be a complete absence of music experience or awareness (Alan Jones’ recent vocalisations at an Andre Rieu concert notwithstanding).

Does it matter?  Only so much as ignorance ever matters….

The New South Wales Board of Jewish Deputies annually sends a contingent of Australian media and political personnel to Israel to see for themselves what the nation is Israel is like, obviously with a view that a visit to Israel will be not only an informative but a positive experience for all involved.  Maybe it’s time Australian music education interests banded together to create a similar scheme to transport those with public influence to the land of Music, and its epicentre, Music-Making.

Australia is a country that produces not just excellent pianists but probably the most technically innovative piano of the past hundred years, the Stuart piano. And yet the businessmen of Sydney can’t tell a Casio keyboard from a concert grand.

Monday and Tuesday we spent in the land of beans and tea-wasting, ersatz indians; Boston. We were very graciously hosted by Aaron’s relatives, Miles and Mary, who provided us with some really excellent meals and great company. On Tuesday we decided to take in what touristy sights Boston had to offer; among them, a harbor full of sailboats, an opera house and a western store where Tom tried on cowboy hats until his head began to chafe and bleed. Along the way we stumbled upon “Cheers”, the TV bar made famous by that guy from Three Men and a Baby. We learned that when tour buses pass “Cheers” they play the “Cheers” theme song and probably everyone on the bus yells “NORM”! Then we all played $100,000 Steinway pianos at the Steinway & Sons store and Tom spazzed out on an old Army cannon shooting Aaron in the head.

Oh, and the show last night at Church of Boston was pretty cool, too. Thanks to Aaron’s family, The Cavemen Go and Big, Big Bucks!

By Daniele Faye Sourian Sahr

I hadn’t been back long from FAR’s 2009 trip to Armenia when one of my traveling companions, Ara, called me up and asked if I’d like to join him for a friend’s recital. He knew I enjoyed music, and keeping alive the camaraderie of our travels across Armenia was appealing.

Daniele and Ara meet a beneficiary
at FAR’s Children Center in Yerevan

Credit: FAR Beneficiary at Children Center

We met at Steinway Hall on 57^th street in Manhattan and entered the lavish piano showroom that lends itself beautifully to intimate concerts by accomplished musicians. After taking our seats, we looked around to see other Armenian-American friends attending Karine Koroukian’s recital. As we exchanged warm hellos in a mix of English and Armenian, I could see, full across the front row, a group of exuberant fans whom I realized must be Karine’s family eager to hear her play.

The chatter of pre-concert niceties hushed, and Karine came out to bow next to the shining grand. Inviting us to listen with a kind smile, she sat down to play, with technical clarity and thoughtful interpretation, a Bach-Busoni Chorale and Schubert’s Sonata in A Minor, which unfolded with a myriad of elegant moods and motifs, introduced with succinct definition in the opening Moderato eventually to develop into an agile vivacity which Karine carried out gracefully in the final Allegro Rondo movement.

Karine Koroukian

Credit: Family Photo

Karine is a piano soloist of the most professional kind and showed, in the second half of her recital, an equally profound skill in accompanying singers – a difficult technique often under acknowledged in the music world. While they performed several pieces, I was particularly excited by the inclusion of Gomidas works – Loosin Yelav, reworked by the 20^th century composer Luciano Berio, Karoun A, Dzirani Dzar, and Grung. Later, I asked Karine if playing Armenian music feels different. She said she likes introducing Armenian musical heritage to international audiences while, for herself, the playing evokes a deep nostalgia, “poignant and piercing.”

Karine is born in Lebanon and like many Armenians from all over the world has dedicated her life to music; she herself comes from a musically talented family. Gomidas said, as he was dying, “Love Armenian children, take care of them. Love each other, so strongly that you may yet live.” But given his incredible life-long dedication to the saving of Armenian musical traditions, he might have said the same of our loving music. For Armenians who play it, who love it, and who gather to hear it (and, afterall, isn’t that really all of us?) are keeping a culture and its people alive.

Hope you enjoy this verse of Loosin Yelav, performed by Karine Koroukian, piano, and Lorelei Zarifian, soprano, at Steinway Hall, August 2009.

Columbus State University Philharmonic Orchestra, Dr. Fred Cohen, Director, Dr. Gila Goldstein, piano soloist

 Just as I said it would be, the Columbus State University Philharmonic Orchestra’s Sunday afternoon concert was special.  In that context, “special” could be inferred as meaning good.  That’s not necessarily the case. Something can be especially bad, but  that was not the case Sunday.

The young musicians once again proved they are up to expertly playing the great classics . They nailed Mozart’s Overture to “The Marriage of Figaro” and Brahms’ Symphony No. 4 in E-minor, OP 98, as best as I can tell. And, this time, they showed they were up to to playing a big, new,  and challenging  symphonic work.   That work is what made the concert special, because it was the world premier of Dr. Fred Cohen’s Piano Concerto No. 1. 

Maxine Schiffman, whose family foundation donated 67 Steinways to CSU Schwob School of Music

Dr. Cohen, who is Director of the Schwob School of Music, wrote the Concerto as a gift to Maxine Schiffman to show his appreciation for her family foundation’s  gift of 67 Steinway pianos to the school.  The word “Steinway” is to pianos what the word “Cadillac” is to cars. 

Dr. Gila Goldstein, CSU Professor of Piano

Professor Gila Goldstein brilliantly played the complex and unique concerto on one of the Steinways Sunday.  It’s a Hamburg Steinway.  The sound coming from it was indeed grand. 

What about the Concerto itself?  What was it like?  Was it good?  Not being a musicologist myself, how can I write a review on it?  I decided I can’t.  I can tell you my reaction to it, but it’s not an expert opinion.  All right, I will tell you my reaction to it.  It was exciting, and, since I was a drummer at one time, I really enjoyed the fact that Dr. Cohen effectively used a lot of percussion.  The sounds coming from the orchestra had a uniqueness to them. They certainly weren’t the harmonies of the Romantic and Classical periods of symphonic music.  They were contemporary, and some were dissonant. 

Piano Concerto featured unique sounds with lots of percussion. It takes a really big mute for a tuba.

After the concert, I went out into the lobby looking for a real expert to get a take on the piece.  I found one, retired Columbus Symphony Orchestra violist and pediatrician Dr. Mary Schley. Our conversation went something like this:

“What did you think of the Piano Concerto?”

“It was magnificent!”

“What did you like  about it?”

“The wonderful colors that he gave us.  He is one of the best composers in being able to do that.”

“Could you hum any of it as you leave the theater?”

“I don’t need that.  After all, it’s not a Broadway musical.”

“The great composers like Beethoven, Bach, and Brahms all gave us memorable melodies.”

“I need to hear it again.”

“So do I.”

“Maybe when we hear it again, some of those great colorful passages will provide melodies of color.”

Maybe they will.

I decided to ask a lay person for an impression of it.  “What do you think of concert?” I asked another doctor who was headed for the Spring Harbor bus. (Spring Harbor is a plush, expensive retirement facility.)  I’m not sure he knew I have a blog. So I won’t use his name.

“I liked two-thirds of it.”

“What was the third you didn’t like?”

With a wry smile, he said, “The one in the middle.”

“The Piano Concerto.”

“Right.  I am not much for contemporary music,” he said.  “It has too much dissonance in it.”

An honest answer.

Me? Well, I can enjoy some contemporary music.  I don’t need to hear knock-offs of the great classical composers.  I can get the real thing, and I did with the Mozart and Brahms.  I did enjoy the Piano Concerto because of that color that Dr. Schley talked about, those unique sounds coming not only coming from the orchestra, but also from the piano and, as I said,  the use of a lot of percussion.  As Dr. Schley said, we need to hear it again.

It’s late Monday night and we just got back from a delicious weekend in Columbus, Ohio. The focus of  this weekend was for me to take a metal smithing class to learn some new techniques. Gary and I decided to grab the opportunity and make a weekend getaway out of it and what a getaway it was.

A very creative weekend with the full moon overlooking as it shone its light over the special ones.

More to come in other blog posts this week, but let’s start with a stroll through Short North. We were lucky that it happened to be the Gallery Hop and many of the Short North Galleries were open as were the restaurants. The big cultural surprise happened in the Revue Antique Store.

This store is filled with antique delights and memories to tickle your heart. It’s easy to become lost in the memories and enchanted by the piece that you are holding in your hand.

I heard music. At first, I wasn’t sure where it was coming from but the closer I walked towards it… the more it told hold of me. It was beautiful and enchanting. And just like the sirens of days gone by, the music was calling other towards it – to drink of what it was giving.

I felt like I was at a concerto, enraptured by the music as did the others around me as they gathered in curiosity to find the siren. We gathered around her with old furniture and  vintage reminders of days gone by…the muse played the Steinway as it was in it’s glory days just because it was there.

And it was there. She was there. And she lifted us to a different, gilded place. A Muse was in our presence…and we celebrated her.

In the market for a new baby grand piano? Why not have Justin Timberlake personalize it for you since you’ve got the cash.

From CharityBuzz.com

In response to the recent New York Times Article, “Juilliard Curtails Program That Serves Poor Children”, Justin Timberlake has generously agreed to donate his touch to this beautiful Steinway Baby Grand Piano. Justin will sign and personalize the fallboard (directly above the keys, on the right side) for the winner once the auction has concluded. Proceeds from the sale of this Steinway will help Ten 0′Clock Classics continue to provide the children of Harlem with free music lessons.

A brand new Steinway baby grand costs upwards of $22,000. The bid at the time of post was $13,500.00 and the reserve had not been met yet. Click here to bid on the piano.

[image courtesy google.com/images]

Audio Video Interiors and Steinway Lyngdorf are hosting a Fall market event at the Steinway Lyngdorf Lounge this Thursday September 24, 2009 from 9am – 5pm at Pacific Design Center. RSVP is required, email USA@SteinwayLyngdorf.com – See further information below:

‘Are all the girls from Queens as tough as you?’ ‘The girls are.
The women will cut your liver when your head is turned and
polish it off with a nice chianti.’
– 2005 movie, “Love, Ludlow”

I share an apartment with two roommates on the third floor of a three storey "family home" - each floor is a self-contained apartment. We're in the building with the black car parked outside!

My new home, Astoria in Queens, is the most ethnically diverse place I’ve ever lived in! I’ve only been here a week and I’m already fascinated by the diversity of people that live in this area and run businesses – the Chinese woman from the 99c store, the Mexican deli down the road, the numerous Greek restaurants. All I have to do is walk out of the door of the three-storey family home I currently reside in, and I have the option to eat Thai, Phillipino, Chinese, Vietnamese, Mexican, Greek and American food; visit an Irish bar; or browse through the well-stocked international aisle at the Bravo supermarket nearby.

I love it! I haven’t lived in too many places around the world, just a few. In South Africa, despite the obvious after-effects of segregation by race, there’s always been segregation by class, and that was evident in the places I lived in Johannesburg. We have incredible diversity, but communities are still divided. In Germany and Switzerland, diversity was hidden in pockets: communities lived tucked away in corners of the city and I rarely had the chance to engage with them, except in my German class at the local Hochschule.

New York can blow you away with its immigrant groups and the worlds they create in the areas they settle. Reporting from Crown Heights in Brooklyn for the J-school last year really illustrated to me the incredible history of immigrants in this city, and the conflict they experience trying to hold on to their heritage while at the same time trying immerse themselves in American life. The Caribbean-West Indian festival, held in September last year, was an intense experience of color, music, dance and pride that I felt envelop the crowd and carry it throughout the day. The reserved speech and conversation of the Hasidic Jews reminded me of the beauty (and strength) of preserved traditions. Of course, the segregation and tension between these two communities in Crown Heights is evident, but less so than years before.

Here’s the neighborhood in relation to Manhattan. The city is easy to reach with the subway – a direct 20 or so minute ride to Times Square.

View Larger Map

Astoria is … different. The neighborhood is so mixed and so busy that everybody blends in. I have the feeling that it will be the next popular place to stay after the hipsterville neighborhood of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, loses its sheen. (Poor Astorians!) Before Justin moved here in July, the only thing I knew about Queens was that the main character from The Nanny originated from here. I’ve had the theme song of the show stuck in my head for weeks! (See below, you can thank me later) Cosby was also located and filmed in Astoria, and the original Sesame Street studios are here as well. It’s also the location of two great (and HUGE) beer gardens.

The intersection of Steinway and Broadway ... it calls to me!!

So I’ve gotten my library card, changed my address, found a new doctor and familiarized myself with the area … I’m trying my best to stay away from Broadway and Steinway streets, they intersect two blocks from my house and they are the busiest shopping streets in the neighborhood. You could probably find anything here. There’s a FedEx and a Gap and a Planet Fitness, Express and Children’s Place, El Mundo’s discount store (which has been “going out of business” for ages but still seems to be doing fine!) and a thousand delis and places to buy food and … ah!!! It’s not the most conducive environment for someone who is too easily swayed by the pull of consumerism. I think I should rather explore some of the other Wikipedia listed ‘places of interest’:

• Attractions in Astoria include the Kaufman Astoria Studios‘ Museum of the Moving Image, Isamu Noguchi Museum, and Socrates Sculpture Park. Astoria Park, along the East River, is Astoria’s largest park and also contains the largest of New York City’s public pools which was also the former site of the U.S. Olympic trials.
• The Hell Gate Bridge and New York Connecting Railroad viaduct rise high above Astoria.
• The oldest beer garden in New York City, Bohemian Hall, was founded in 1910 when Astoria was largely Irish, Italian, Bohemian (Czech), and Slovak.^[7]
• The Greater Astoria Historical Society in the historic Quinn Memorial Building on the corner of Broadway and 36th Street serves as a valuable historical resource as well as providing tourist information.
• St. Michael’s Cemetery on Astoria Boulevard is the burial place of composer and pianist Scott Joplin.^[8]

With graduate school and my internships behind me, moving has been a nice distraction from the stress of job-hunting and freelancing. Here’s hoping the universe gives me my break.

Note By Note: The Making Of Steinway L1037 is a film airing on PBS that follows the creation of a Steinway concert grand – L1037 – from forest floor to first performance.

From the factory floor in Queens to Steinway Hall in Manhattan, each piano’s journey is complex — spanning 12 months, 12,000 parts, 450 craftsmen, and countless hours of fine-tuned labor. Filmed in key Steinway locations — the factory, Steinway’s reserved “Bank,” and private auditions — Note By Note is a loving celebration of not only craftsmanship, but also a dying breed of person who is deeply connected to working by hand.

Un enamorado`frustrado es capaz de todo...

1

El informe de la policía era tan escueto como elocuente. En el curso de veinticuatro horas habían sido asesinados tres meteorólogos y dos meteorólogas. Todos ellos prestaban sus servicios en otras tantas emisoras de televisión. Ellos habían sido muertos con un cuchillo jamonero, ellas estranguladas. Algún conspicuo Poirot avanzó la primera tesis: estábamos ante el típico caso de un asesino en serie.

2

Ulises Mann había conocido a Alfonsina en un viaje, y se enamoró de ella apenas la vio perfilada contra la superficie del Lago de Como. Era una mujer muy guapa. Por entonces Ulises se llamaba Avelino García, y era un empleado de Telefónica sin demasiadas aspiraciones ni refinamientos. Pero el amor es lo que tiene. Al poco de regresar, él se atrevió a llamarla para salir. Alfonsina se reveló como una mujer culta y exigente, incapaz de enamorarse de cualquiera. Para atraerla,  Avelino estudió y leyó todo lo que no había estudiado y leído en su juventud, e incluso tomó clases de buenas maneras. La muerte sin hijos de la única  hermana de su madre le deparó una sustanciosa herencia que facilitó su puesta a punto final. Contrató un entrenador personal, eliminó algunas lorzas en el gimnasio, depuró su silueta y renovó su fondo de armario. También se compró un Morgan con el que en la primavera se iban a las terrazas de los pueblos de la sierra a ver anochecer. Ella era tan clásica que tomaba una granadina y él, por no ser menos, un vermut. Pronto se distinguieron como una pareja  singular con un cierto halo de romanticismo decadente.

3

Desde que Alfonsina confesó que Homero y Thomas Mann eran sus autores favoritos, Avelino no paró hasta que consiguió mudar por completo su identidad. Un día le reveló a Alfonsina que en realidad se llamaba Ulises Mann, y que había tenido que adoptar el nombre falso de Avelino García porque durante una etapa de su vida fue agente del CESID, y su patronímico era demasiado sofisticado para pasar inadvertido. Entretanto, y puesto que se daba cuenta de que, aunque evidentemente le caía bien a Alfonsina ella no parecía estar del todo enamorada, fue urdiendo un golpe de efecto que necesariamente le abriría los ojos y le permitiría descubrir al hombre de su vida. A Alfonsina, además de la literatura,  le fascinaba el mar, las flores la música clásica, y de ella en particular el piano de Beethoven, y más concretamente la sonata Claro de Luna. Avelino tomó nota.

4

Alfonsina fue invitada a un viaje sorpresa con final feliz. La tarjeta especificaba que se trataba de un destino con mar, un largo espigón y un faro, que siempre queda muy romántico. Ella esperaba Venecia,  Alejandría, Rodas o algún pueblecito de Cornualles, que pega mucho en estas aventuras románticas. Pero el destino le hizo volar a Alicante, , donde le esperaba un chófer con librea que la llevó hasta Denia. Allí Alfonsina, vestida para la ocasión con una preciosa pamela y un traje de tules vaporosos, vio en el espigón donde fue depositada un puntito blanco al pie del faro, y entre el puntito y ella, a un cuarteto de cuerda que tocaba  la conocida canción popular francesa Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot . El puntito blanco era un hombre elegantemente vestido de tal color y con sombrero de Panamá, que avanzaba hacia ella con un ramo de rosas rojas en las manos y una sonrisa seráfica –toda arreglada por el más caro especialista maxilofacial-en los labios.

5

Avelino García/Ulises Mann había oído campanas, pero no sabía exactamente donde. Confundió a Thomas Mann con Thomas Wolf, y se había vestido como el famoso escritor norteamericano. Y tan identificado estaba con Ulises, que había escuchado cantos de sirena y también le habían despistado. Cuando en la casa Hazen se negaron a llevar un Steinway de cola al espigón del faro de Denia para que lo tocara Daniel Baremböhm, como, en su ignorancia, él pretendía, se dirigió al primer grupo musical que encontró por la calle y les contrató para que se apostaran en el espigón y, a la aparición de una bella dama, interpretaran el famoso tema del Claro de Luna. No sería lo mismo sin el piano, pero menos daría una piedra. Los músicos, a la sazón ucranianos, entendieron  regular el mensaje, y pidieron que se lo silbara. A Avelino/Ulises la primera luna musical que le vino a la memoria fue la del famoso tema de Au clair de la lune. Así lo silbó y así lo hizo suyo el bien intencionado cuarteto de cuerda. Y en realidad todo habría quedado muy bien, y probablemente, habría conseguido su objetivo de no ser por un pequeño detalle que arruinó los planes del animoso enamorado.

6

En aquel verano de 2009 se estaban dando unas temperaturas  altísimas mantenidas semana tras semana. Los hombres y las mujeres del tiempo de las distintas televisiones, no obstante, siempre prometían que dentro de dos días se produciría un alivio térmico. Concretamente en la semana del 15 al 22 de agosto, y según sus pronósticos, deberían haber bajado los termómetros el martes y el jueves. Pero no sólo no bajaron, sino que subieron, lo cual perjudicó gravemente los planes de Avelino/Ulises. Pues a medida que  Alfonsina avanzaba hacia el hombre vestido como Tom Wolf y veía el ramo de rosas prematuramente rojas  a los inexplicables acordes de Au clair de la lune -disparates que, hasta cierto punto, le hacían gracia y le hacían sentirse protagonista de una comedia  surrealista- descubrió un pequeño detalle que desinfló sus románticas buenas intenciones. Un churretón de sudor de color ala de cuervo se había deslizado por la patilla del hombre que la amaba, y, sin que él se diera cuenta, maculaba su impecable camisa blanca y la solapa de su elegante americana.

7

A pesar de todo, ella hizo un esfuerzo y le besó en la mejilla como una amiga. Pero no fue capaz de ser tan excelente actriz como probablemente requería aquella puesta en escena.

-Me da igual que seas Avelino que Ulises, espía o empleado de Telefónica, culto o inculto- le dijo a su pretendiente en un arranque de sinceridad- Pero nunca podría enamorarme de un hombre que disfrace sus canas…

Se acordaba Alfonsina del patético profesor Von Aschembach destiñéndose ante el bello muchacho Taszio en Muerte en Venecia. Y pensaba que el  sombrero de Panamá del bueno de Ulises Mann cubría sobre todo una notable empanada mental.

8

Al cabo, el culpable del desastre  había sido el calor. Avelino, ya otra vez definitivamente Avelino, se vengó de manera implacable de los meteorólogos que habían arruinado su proyecto. Fue localizando uno a uno a los meteorólogos de las cinco emisoras que le habían engañado con sadismo, premeditación y alevosía –eso declaró ante el juez instructor- y ejecutándoles sin piedad. Y consiguió que su defensa se apuntalara con la misma tesis que un crimen pasional: alguien indignado que reacciona violentamente ante la certeza de que ha sido engañado.

9

Desde la cárcel, escribió muchas cartas a Alfonsina. Mejor cada vez, porque aprovechó la condena para leer muchos y buenos autores, y  conseguir así estar a la altura de su amada. También  le prometió que si en el entretanto  no encontraba al hombre de su vida, la próxima vez que  se vieran quedarían en el estanque del Retiro,  un mar en pequeño que no exigía desplazamiento alguno y le daba cierto encanto naïf a la cita. Él iría con una simple camisa, unos chinos y la Sonata Claro de Luna en el MP3.  También luciría .el cabello natural que le quedara por entonces.

By Alexander Lawrie

Heritage chiefs are to spend a small fortune on sending a piano tuner to a remote Scottish island – to tune an instrument nobody on the island can play.

The National Trust for Scotland has organised the epic trip to the tiny Hebridean island of Canna where a century old Steinway grand has stood for the last five years since its last owner died.

But not one of the island’s 19 inhabitants can play the piano, it has been revealed.

Tuner William Gray, 78, has been given the task of making the four-hour ferry crossing to tune the island’s concert grand.

The historic instrument was shipped out to Canna in 1938 by Gaelic folklorist Margaret Shaw who died in 2004, aged 101.

One of the best pianos in the world

Mr Gray admits he is looking forward to the trip to Canna House and the chance to work with one of the world’s finest pianos.

He said: “It is a Steinway and still one of the best pianos in the world.

“It is a beauty and it has some history attached to it, and for me that is its real value.”

US-born Miss Shaw was a collector and editor of Gaelic songs as well as a writer, photographer and recorder of Hebridean life.

She learned to play the piano by ear and was later taught to professional level in New York, Paris and London.

After marrying John Lorne Campbell in 1935 the couple made their home in South Uist before buying the island of Canna.

They presented ownership of the island to the National Trust in the early 1980s and Miss Shaw continued to live on the remote island after her husband passed away in 1996.

At her 100th birthday party with the small community she played Strauss waltzes and Uist lullabies.

The BBC recorded a programme, Among Friends, to mark the auspicious occasion.

Magda Sagarzazu, official cataloguer of the records at Canna House, said: “The paino is in good condition and the temperature and moisture of the house are regulated to help its conservation. Insect traps have also been installed to prevent any bugs getting near it.

“It is just nobody here can play it.”

Henry Steinway

Henry Steinway, el último integrante de la famosa familia que fundara la prestigiosa fábrica de pianos Steinway & Sons, acaba de fallecer a los 93 años. Si bien la empresa ya no era de la familia, dado que fue vendida a CBS en 1972 y luego pasó a manos de otras empresas, Henry seguía participando de las actividades del fabricante como personal contradado.

Pedro Luís Martín Olivares nos recuerda dos aspectos muy importantes de la calidad de un piano Steinway: los martillos y las cuerdas.

Martillos Steinway

Cortados de fieltro de lana virgen, los martillos no contienen ninguna mezcla con otros materiales. Están comprimidos en una forma permanente antes de ser afinados individualmente. La solución más lógica era construir una fábrica en Hamburgo. La compañía construyó una sucursal en Hamburgo, Alemania, 20 años más tarde de haber fundado la inicial en New York.

Para probar la calidad de un Steinway, se sugiere tocarlo y escuchar las diferencias tonales. “Va a haber uno que te hable a ti” comenta Pedro Luís Martín Olivares señala: hay algo spiritual en el proceso de tocar uno y luego otro, como si fuese un “Wow! este es mi piano! No dejes que nadie lo toque!” Los especialistas dicen que, como una familia con 10 hijos, lucen como si cada uno tuviese su propia personalidad.

Cuerdas Steinway

El arpa de gran calidad, fundida completamente en hierro, soporta 45,373 libras de tensión ejercida por las cuerdas. Los artesanos Steinway tienen una clase de unión espiritual con lo que hacen. El departamento de artesanos le da la musicalidad, o la tonalidad, a cada piano. Los especialistas dicen que los maestros voceros hicieron de su trabajo un arte. “Tienes que tener el entrenamiento mecánico, pero también el oído. Ellos (los voceros) tratan de reconocer la personalidad tonal inherente espeficida del Steinway.”

Pedro Luís Martín Olivares nos comentó de un vocero en particular. “El ha estado trabajando en un viejo Steinway que restauró. Cuando sacó la llave y la bandeja mientras trabajaba en él, vió la firma de su padre. “Aquí hay una gran cosa generacional en donde los padres, hijos o tíos, vienen todos a trabajar aquí. Su padre trabajó aquí 30 o 40 años atrás. Estos artesanos están tan orgullosos de los pianos, que los firman en algún lugar escondido y saben que nadie va a ver la firma jamás. Esta firma se supone que estaba escondida pero fue vista por su único hijo.”

Luego, viene el valor de inversión de una pieza de arte. Si un cliente compró un Steinway modelo “concert” en 1975 por aproximadamente $25,000 dólares, y al respecto se dijo que en 1985 podría haberse vendido por $50,000 dólares y en el 2005 su valor subió a $100,000. Fundada en 1853, la empresa Steinway estuvo a cargo de la familia hasta 1982. William Paley, más tarde presidente de CBS, compró y operó el negocio de 1982 a 1985. Bajo Ted Turner, CBS se retiró del negocio musical y Steinway fue adquirida luego por los hermanos John y Robert Birmingham de Boston hasta 1995. Al pasar a la empresa Selmer, Steinway salió a la bolsa en 1996.

Over a year ago I began to fulfill a longtime goal: to learn the piano. As a lifelong musician and song writer with a proficient knowledge of music theory and performance in vocals, woodwinds, and strings, my lack of piano technique had been an increasingly painful sore spot. So over a year ago, I asked my church’s organist, Dr. Mack Statham, if he would take me as a student. After a while, he finally agreed. Since then, the journey of learning to play has been one of the most joyful and rewarding endeavors of my life. Of course, any piano student will tell you that learning piano can be just as frustrating as it is fun, but for me, that synergy of vexation and victory defines the essence of joy. While I don’t ever expect to be a concert pianist– God has me plenty busy as a pastor– I can little by little live into my dream of being able to sit down at a piano to play a piece of music.

I’m also blessed to be pastor of a church who thoroughly enjoys and celebrates God’s gift of music. They open any door for musical expression, and here, I have found a place to offer my musicianship in our worship of God. Plus, I’ve never seen a church with as many pianos as this one! Better yet, living next door to the church building grants me the luxury of going over at a moment’s whim to play my choice of one of those dozen different pianos.

But, a few nights ago, I had the time of my life playing one of the most gorgeous instruments I had ever laid my hands on. Here is how it happened…

Once a year, my church welds together our passion for music and mission work into one night and calls it “Missions and Masterworks”. Dr. Mack puts on the concert with all the proceeds benefiting mission work. I can’t think of anywhere else where Gershwin and malaria netting  for sub-Saharan Africa come together. But in our church, they do. For the last three years, Dr. Mack has been joined by his son Robert for a duo-piano concert. They rent two Steinway concert grand pianos and set them in our sanctuary, facing one another, looking almost like conjoined twins.

For the last two years, I eagerly await these concerts. From the moment the piano movers roll in the Steinways until the last chord is played, I am like a little kid in Disney World– wide-eyed, open-eared, ready to run and soak up every moment. It’s seems almost too good to be true having two gorgeous instruments like these with classically trained pianists who master their performance… all in my church!

But here is where my story really takes shape. Late Friday night, well after the concert was over and the lights were off, I walked over to the sanctuary where those Steinway pianos were still sitting. I had all the time I wanted to play them. With my etude and exercise books in hand along with Debussy’s “Clair de Lune”, I sat down in front of one of the Steinways to play… all by myself in the quiet of the night. The gentle, simple, intricately balanced, clarion sound of every key I pressed rose and resonated into the chancel area where they sat. In a rare moment I shall not soon forget, that piano swept and held my spirit. It even seemed to carry along my mistakes with its gentle, graceful tones. It was as if that piano beckoned my hands and heart, sweetly calling, “Keep playing… Swim through my sound. Let me take the movements of your fingers, your hands, and your feet, and sing for your soul.” Novice of a player that I am, the piano seemed to help me play through passages I haven’t been able to play before.

I must have sat there in front of that piano for well over two hours. It was all I could do to leave it. But when the reality hit me of how tired I was and how early the morning would be, I knew it was time to go home. Getting up and walking away from the piano was like parting a good friend I might never see again. Yet as I walked home, those feelings of rapture diminished any feelings of grief. It was an experience, simple and yet deeply profound– one that will linger with me for quite a long time.

a Steinway concert grand piano

Being raised in a musical home by musician parents and grandparents, the appreciation and performance of music was a given. Not a day goes by that I don’t stop to deeply listen to some form of music and find myself singing or playing. My home is a musical haven now, filled with instruments, CDs, singing, and playing. Yet moments like that Friday night remind me how deeply spiritual of a thing music is. Music, I believe, was one of God’s first creations. It began the moment his first creatures raised their voices in praise or tapped their feet with any kind of rhythm or pattern. Humanity has revelled in its soul-stirring power ever since. It took a Steinway piano in a late night quiet sanctuary to remind me once again.

The title of this post  is the inscription that David duChemin wrote to me in my copy of his latest book Within The Frame. I was fortunate enough to have met this gracious man at  a seminar he was giving at B&H Photo in New York City this past Sunday.  He is a wonderful, down to earth, real person and I and the audience enjoyed his insights, stories and anecdotes that make up the photos in this book. The photos will absolutely knock your eyes out.

 He talks about having vision and passion for your work and craft and encourages all photographers to shoot what they want and not what they think would please other people. This really hit home for me because starting photography in mid life with very little knowledge about this art I have a teeny-weenie tendency to get very insecure about my work.  This book is a stepping stone for me and has inspired  me to continue on the photographic journey that I have chosen and to have no fear of what others may think.  A great read. Thanks David.

Stay In Focus,

Cate

Crónica del recital que el pianista Jue Wang dio en el Auditorio Nacional el 20 de mayo de 2009.

Da igual que sea actor, cantante, cómico, o político. Todo intérprete tiene derecho a basar su actuación en la reacción del público que le observa. A menos, claro, que tu guión lleve escrito más de cien años y que tu respetable absorba tus mayores logros con la misma cara con la que descubre tus más lamentables fracasos. Y fue ante éstas últimas circunstancias que Jue Wang hizo su debut esta semana en el Auditorio Nacional. Como herramientas, 88 teclas de marfil. Como baremo, el más absoluto de los silencios.

Nacido en Shangai (China) en 1984, Wang ha movido sus dedos por pianos de todo el mundo. Ha ganado concursos en Rusia, Estados Unidos y España. La semana pasada, le tocó estrenarse, como estudiante de una de la Escuela Superior de Música Reina Sofía –de las más prestigiosas de Europa–, en la sala de cámara del Auditorio Nacional, dentro del ciclo La Generación Ascendente. Solo en el escenario, enmarcado por dos mustias plantas, había optado por el repertorio de Ravel y Brahms para mostrar su control sobre esas siete octavas y media ante 150 espectadores, neutros y sumisos.

Encorvado de forma que su cara es un negro contorno, Wang se seca las manos durante varios segundos. Entonces se reclina en su asiento unas seis veces. Y así, activa el magnetismo que pega sus dedos al teclado. Con gentil precisión, comienza a esculpir la forma de Sonatine, una sonata de bolsillo que Ravel compuso en 1904. No la llamó así por su simpleza precisamente. Para ejecutar el tercer movimiento, dicen, hace falta ser un virtuoso. Pero Wang se deja llevar por su elegante melodía, pasa por sus imposibles cambios de tempo, y pronto sus manos se han convertido en un difuminado borrón sobre las teclas. Si, siguiendo los principios de la sinestesia, las notas más graves están abajo y las más agudas están arriba, escuchar cómo se entrega al colosal Steinway de los años treinta del Auditorio produce vértigo. Su valía técnica queda probada, como mandan las leyes del espectáculo, nada más empezar.

Pero el problema que viene después es más duro que tocar una docena de notas por segundo: ¿Dónde llevar tu actuación si el público no te ofrece más guía que unas esporádicas toses o algún ruidoso envoltorio de caramelo? El esfuerzo de Wang mientras interpretaba los Miroirs de Ravel era mucho más que la suma de sus partes. No es más que dos manos sobre una caja ante 300 ojos silenciosos. Y sin embargo, en la imaginación del respetable, se forman las imágenes que Ravel había descrito musicalmente hace más de cien años: un pájaro triste, un barco en el océano, las campanas de Suiza… Mientras el público se mantiene acérrimamente frío, la furia expresiva de Wang va en aumento. Cada vez que la partitura le pide una pausa, aleja sus manos del teclado como si éste le quemara. Hace falta que termine la pieza, que se produzca esa diminuta pausa entre la última nota y el aplauso, para entender el fenómeno. No estaba dialogando con el público, ese número de oídos pasivos que le escuchaban de forma coyuntural. Estaba dialogando con el silencio. Su música sólo existe como negación de esa nada que es la falta de sonido.

Y silencio es lo que promete Brahms, el siguiente en el programa. Compositor solitario y melancólico en su época más tardía, su música para piano suele ser lánguida y reflexiva. Wang le concede dos movimientos de cavilación al ejecutar sus Tres Intermezzi, pero su pausada naturaleza se le debe hacer interminable. Al tercer movimiento, vuelve a fluctuar entre pianissimo y tremolo y para cuando arremete con las Danzas húngaras, sus dedos vuelven a volar sobre el teclado, constantemente insatisfechos con la quirúrgica precisión con la que ejecutan cada nota. Sus manos se mueven de forma frenética de un acorde a otro, sus piernas se balancean sobre el pedal y bajo el peso del torso que mueve al ritmo de la pieza. La tapa abierta de la caja de resonancia vibra con cada uno de los golpes que asest al teclado. El silencio de 150 observadores queda derrotado. Cuando llega el aplauso final, Wang se limita a recibir un ramo de flores mientras hace las consabidas reverencias. Su bis, el Tango de Albéniz, suena más a himno de victoria que a final del concierto.

El pianista ya no está en el escenario cuando el silencio vuelve a la sala. No presencia su peor derrota, la que se palpa en los pasillos: nadie del público, al salir, hablaba de su música.

A Steinway Grand Piano will be delivered to Tok in May. According to our trusty Mukluk News (Tok’s 2x a month paper), on May 7th, there’ll be a concert at Faith Chapel at 7pm to debut the concert-level instrument. Refreshments will be served during intermission. Musical fare will include classical, jazz and gospel.

This piano arriving in Tok is huge news. I heard about the donation of the piano to the church months ago and told my girlfriend about it. She’s the Executive Director of Sitka Summer Music Festival.

Her eyes opened wide when she heard which piano was actually being delivered. Apparently, there are only a handful of pianos of this quality – the Steinway Concert Grand Model D – in all of Alaska. Once again, Tok tramples the perception that “nothing happens” in rural Alaska communities. The presence of this superior instrument in Tok could attract amazing talent to the community so we might be hearing announcements of several stellar concerts in the near future.

The Mukluk also says there’s be several concerts presented at Tok School on May 6, then in the evening, adults who are pianists can take the Steinway for a test drive.

What do YOU hope a piano of this caliber brings to Tok?

Steinberg presents the 3.0 version of their famous virtual piano featuring five famous pianos: Yamaha C7, Bösendorfer 290, Steinway D., Yamaha CP80 Electric Grand, and a Nordiska upright.

To see more exclusive video demos visit Audiofanzine Videos.