Sacrifice

Seven months later it's a snow-day, and I am finally attempting to put this experience into words. It exhausted more sighs, tears and prayers than any other physical experience I've lived through so far. I smiled through much of it, laughed at myself, learned many lessons, kept confidence in its healing (according to God's will), and just kept going... but it's been 7 months; I am still recovering, hoping for the best, still learning lessons, still praying for relief and remembering pain. 

I smile through everything. I am optimistic, think the best of people to a fault, laugh through my struggles, and generally heal quickly. I also have a very high tolerance for pain (maybe a redhead thing?). And when I do feel pain, I don't always know what to do with it. I'll unconsciously ignore it, or mask it, remind myself how many have it worse than I, wrestle through it, count my blessings, and then I move past it. I just wait it out and things work out. It in this case being an overuse injury, tendonitis, some ulna tunnel, definitely damaged muscles, inflamed tendons and irritated nerves.

 

The pain erupted to the point where I could no longer play a note on the piano. I flew home, and in one of my more desperate prayers, I received confirmation and comfort that God knew exactly what I was going through, that this ailment might not be text book, but that it was specifically given to me and that it would help me learn. That it would teach more patience, help relationships, and let me grow. I believed that, and still do, with all my hope and all my heart.

Three weeks into it, I was alone in the Chalet, sitting in a steaming bath full of epsom salts, essential oils, and my own tears, unable to lift my hands to wipe my face pr move a strand of hair ... or really do anything but sit in silence. There were so many books close by I wanted to study, phone calls I wished I could make, emotions to fill a whole journal I was dying to write, music I longed to prepare and practice, or at least a social media website I could browse! But physically, I couldn't. 

Muscles hold memories, and most every day for the last 20 years has been composed of practicing the piano, harp, violin, conducting, teaching from the piano, coaching, typing, writing, and working. Even though I'd never felt real pain while playing piano or conducting, it really shouldn't have been so surprising to receive an injury. Honestly, it was long overdue--I'd never broken a bone, and never had an injury worse than bad knees and mosquito bites. 

Each week that passed I would tell those who inquired after me how it was getting better, how I'd be playing again soon, how I could start my conducting doctorate program without delay. I felt directed from the Lord to continue with my plans to move and to continue with my schooling, so I also expected healing ... in whichever way the Lord had in mind. 

The weeks quickly turned to months, and the ailment moved and morphed through different phases. I always needed help, and tried to ask for it, although even asking requires movement from your arms. I didn't look like I needed help, there was no cast, and I could always force movement when I needed. I somehow completed the move across the country (with a lot of help from close family), and started seeing new doctors more regularly. The excruciating reminders came less frequently as healing continued to happen, and I tried to incorporate better habits into my new lifestyle. 

I'm still taking it easy-- lifting as little as possible, practicing only in short spurts, using heat and ice, sleeping with splints, and still praying. The pain no longer bothers me, and most of the therapy is over (although I have said that for months). There might be more help I can get, and it will take a long time to regain the strength I had, but I am doing well, and mostly I consider it a thing of the past. 

Whether it was the 'would-you-rather' question game or simply empathizing with my heroes, as a child I had forced myself to imagine how I might live were I to go blind, deaf, or even loose my legs. And I had come to terms with each situation. I could live a happy life in any of those situations. For some reason, I never even imagined a situation where I might loose my arms. I didn't think that could happen. My arms symbolized everything God had given me-- the ability to touch, nurture, write a note, compose a song, make music, act, bless, decorate, help and create beauty. 

To give up the thing with which God specifically blessed you is part of my story. Moriah, the sacred place upon which Abraham promised to give up his biggest blessing. And where he, in beginning to enact that promise, was finally able to fully receive that blessing. I promised God a long time ago that I would sacrifice and dedicate all I had to His kingdom. But promising that in my heart was different than actually enacting that promise. But part of that promise was put to the test, or enacted upon me, to a small degree these past 7 months. And as I continue to re-deserve, relearn and regain strength, I now have renewed desire to thank God for my gifts, to treasure all I am given, and to sacrifice to receive the blessings of Heaven.

Enter Berliner Symphoniker

We moved to Grazer Platz 2 once we were ready for the orchestra to come join us: a beautiful hall with high ceilings, stained glass windows letting in floods of light on both of the sides, carpet, and a sort of chapel & crucifixion statue off to the side.

The magic of such grand music played by such talented players in such a beautiful environment was overwhelming to me.  Maestro Gessi must have sensed this on my face, and explained to me how this hall was used for international radio during the Cold war, and was also important during WWII.

 The chamber orchestra, made up of the principle strings and wind section in the Berliner Symphoniker, have joined us.  I still can't even believe it.  They are incredible players, human beings, diligent rehearsal technicians...  Their rehearsal ethic was a joy to watch and work with.  Wow.

Our program with them is

Mozart Symphony no. 40 KV 550
Schubert Symphony no. 5 D 485 and
Respighi Antiche Deanze ed Arie -- Suite No. 3

I can't write fast enough to keep track of everything that I'm learning during the masterclass.  The wand lessons might be over, but there is still so much that I am learning!  Many reminders, many new things that I need to post in my conducting blog before I forget them All of the music that we are working on is from the Viennese  tradition, where the music is so delicate, aristocratic, and grand.  "The Viennese live, and let others live.  They are always inviting & appreciative."

At my first 'competition' playing the violin in America when we moved back at age 12, the judge told me that he really enjoyed my interpretation of Bach.  Then he started to talk me into getting a baroque violin, a baroque bow, and focusing solely on Baroque music... 

well that didn't happen.  But what is wonderful about this world is that through studying new cultures, new places, understanding new points of view and new ways of life, you better understand the composers with those backgrounds.  Studying German music in Germany is worth much more than the tuition that I paid to do this program.  I feel very lucky.

Swish and Flick

Yes, you might think I'm talking about transfiguration class.  Not so.  Conducting is way harder than transfiguration.  But the movements do have to be just as precise.  Aristotic teacher Maestro Lior Shambadal (chief conductor of the Berliner Symphoniker) had only given me a 'we already know you're a romantic' to my first comment, but Maestro Romolo Gessi (conductor of the Vienna Chamber Orchestra) gave me a 'perfetto' for my switch and flick rebound.  I live for compliments from Maestro Gessi.

You should have seen us all, about 4 women and 20 men practicing isolated 'baguette' (that is a reference to this paris adventure incase you missed that) technique, swooping our arms this way and that, balancing coins while we isolate one arm from another, and controlling the tip of our wands...

I my audition with them (yes, here! although that's just the door to the courtyard), they asked me to do several things that I had never done-- and never expected to do either. I have a lot to learn if I'm going to be on the same page as all the European conductors.  I still can't believe that they are letting me conduct with them.... I feel so far behind sometimes.

But there is much to be said for an eager student.  While walking home after 11pm, I pulled out my wand and started to practice some of the circle exercises ('on guard' to any strangers in the little alleyways!), and continued all of the exercises upon arriving at home, including waving my arms around like a crazy person on the ground.  Ya, at the end of the day, when half of us look bored and the other half dead, I'm still soaking up as much information as possible, intently staring from the conductors to my score to the students. I'm so glad that they value thirst.  Thirst for knowledge I mean.  and I most definitely get that from my parents.  Good thing they value that.  And good thing they somehow can feel your innate musicality even when I can't show it perfectly yet.

University Chorale Fall 2011

Along with teaching Sight Singing, assisting in BYU's Women's Chorus, conducting Stake Choir, singing with the SCO Renaissance Choir, accompanying and singing in BYU Singers, I teach and conduct University Chorale.  and I love it.  

1st miracle.  Lorie, in the teal and white.  I foolishly didn't order professor copies of the music that the bookstore ordered, so I went to the bookstore to buy my own copies of the music.  Well, I went to check out, and the my cashier said that she had seen so many students check out with this music and it looked so wonderful-- what was included in the packet?  I told her all about it, and that I conducted this group.  She was so interested, and for some reason, I felt like I should invite her to sing with us.   So I did.  She joined our choir and was a wonderful addition for the alto section as well as the girls around her.    She was such a positive support to me the whole semester long, I could hardly look her way without smiling.  She so enjoyed singing with us, and her joy was contagious.   

Second miracle.  Missionaries.  About a dozen students in Chorale received their mission calls this semester or are actively awaiting them to go off into the world serving the Lord.  I was so grateful that they sang with us while preparing to leave.  There are so many opportunities to testify through song in Chorale as well as on missions.  Joe, playing the reorder here, is one of those awaiting his call to serve.  He plays a dozen instruments and was so positive in his support of choir.  We sang for a devotional when Elder Callister spoke, and he brought a book to be signed by this general authority as he spoke to us.  Elder Callister willingly complied and I was so impressed by Joe's bright faith and excitement as he prepared to serve the Lord.   

One last picture from our concert, conducting Handel's The Many Rend the Skies from Alexander's Feast. We are just starting up again for another semester where I can be more organized, more musical, more enthusiastic, more planned and more faithful.

Overwhelmed

I'd already sung several songs with BYU Singers and even played on the 10 ft Fazioli that BYU's trying out but I had not been nervous beforehand. For a moment, I was alone in a forgotten corridor of the H-FAC and said another prayer... Father, I don't deserve this. I don't deserve this honor. but please help me. Concert Choir was filing off stage, and I could hear the risers creaking with Women's Chorus members milling into place. It seemed like forever until the creaking and clapping stopped and it was my turn to walk on. First the accompanist, then me, then Jean Applonie. I bowed with my mentor and then stepped onto the podium.

Being in the middle of the de Jong concert hall stage was not intimidating whatsoever, but I could never have been prepared for what I saw next. I looked up and saw 185 beautiful women, shining... their sparkly tops, their bright faces, their eyes full of anticipation for their part of the concert and their minds focused on each reminder... bright red smiles of people I love. and so I raised my hands. Overwhelmed.

I was full of energy, hopefully channeling it into my conducting and to the girls I work with. Elbows up a little farther. look into their faces-- JOY! then slow down, flexible wrist. the meaning of the piece. and more joy. and it was over. I just looked at them.

I must have smiled (how could I not?) but forgot completely what I was supposed to do for a moment. The hall was full of applause, so I stepped down from my pedestal and motioned a hand to recognize the beautiful singers and bowed. They are glorious.

The last number of the concert was sung with all of the combined choirs and I was lucky enough to accompany them 'Of the Father's Love Begotten.' Dr. Staheli always motions for me to stand before he even turns around (perhaps it makes up for so many invisible accompanists) and when he does, it is so easy to smile at the audience. especially after knowing and loving one more choir.

A Stained-Glass Window

I followed Karen Kimmett upstairs to a small chapel I'd never seen before. Even at 8, I was enamored with architecture and the little stained-glass window in the corner enthralled me. My mother had accompanied me to this rescheduled violin lesson by car (usually I went by metro with the au pair) and we drove through down-town Paris during the sunset. Having seen it so long from the underground, my awe was pricked by my mothers excitement already--what a special day! And since it was so late, the conservatory was quite empty, just awaiting adventure.

Now that the setting was right, she had me play again. A part of such beauty, I was moved by the music. She'd paint another picture, and I would play again. And to a French schoolgirl to whom compliments are banned, she kept smiling and said (in her french canadian accent), 'we should play all night, you just get better and better!'

Today I was again moved by music. I had prepared the Brahms 'O Heiland reiss die Himmel auf' intellectually, musically, technically--I'd memorized the translations and held a vision of what I wanted it to sound like. But Dr. Shapiro knew that I was not where I really wanted to be. He reminded me of the musical skills, the solfege, and the hearing that were quite natural to me. He spoke of various dilemmas with other students which I did not have-- 'I still don't know why you want to hold something back.' Back to being an actress. How would you address God in a song like this?

I showed him, and then blurted out, 'but I can't possibly do that while I conduct!' but I already knew I only had to go there in my spirit (French word for mind = esprit; same as spirit). So I thought back to the times in greatest distress when I have called for Heaven to break open and for God to extend his Almighty hand to help me. and so we worked the music, over and over again. Hearing texture, chord color, register and entrances instead of beats or bars. Trying to express true music.

There were only a handful of minutes left in Chorale (required for all students at EAMA), but he hadn't forgotten about me--Brahms, everyone! May I present to you Mariah Wilson.

We only had time for the first section, but it was beautiful. I received the music, and realized that I was prepared. It really was beautiful. I sang along to both the soprano and alto parts perfectly in my head, cued each entrance and pled with the Lord. Before we did it again, he whispered to me, "You need to use the intensity with which you look at and hear the women's parts with the men's. and ... be moved by the music."

So I closed my eyes. I already love the music. I have already spoken to God in this manner. so I went there. I didn't think about one cue, but they all came out just fine. funny how that always happens. and the Choir sounded incredible. So many musical problems fixed themselves. and I was moved.

Phil Olson would always say, 'You have to move yourself before you move an audience." and you know, I am often moved (even to tears) while singing, but I have never experienced that depth of emotion while conducting. I was truly transported--just as I was in the little chapel of the conservatory fifteen years ago.

A friend said he looked up and (****!,) was practically terrified with the gaze he met. Dr Shapiro said he'd pay money to see that again. But really, all that matters was that I am starting to break down these barriers in a medium I am still becoming familiar with, and I can be moved once again.

Metamorphoses of Conducting

Tiffany (Princeton) is squatting on the ground, weighing down my ankles to ground me. Nicholas (London) is standing at my left, getting hit in the arm every down beat, and Dr. Shapiro (NY) is keeping my back straight and growling at me every other bar—I am in Charge! RAAA. Cave woman! POWER! RAAA! KILL the baby seal with your downbeat!

I’m starting to develop this crazy rage in my eyes (suitable for this music), but when Audrey (Harvard) giggles at my 'douceur' being transformed into a feline I cannot keep a straight face. Last time, I played a porcelain doll hearing beautiful music while conducting the sweetest 4 beat pattern you'd ever seen, and now, I am a lioness, every muscle rippling as she prowls through her kingdom.

When the first theme comes back with full orchestration, I stretch my arms as far as they go (trying to stay grounded) and bore holes into my orchestra in Salle Debussy.

My orchestra. meaning two pianos, eight hands (at least) and the leftover voices solfeging the viola, bassoon or horn parts. Fixed do of course.

boy, is this fun. and boy, do I have a lot of work to do as a conductor.

oh, and ps. one of the three grand pianos in Salle d'Indy was Debussy's.

choosing a wand

Baguette

no, not the bread
Baguette in French means 'wand'
as in a 'magic wand'

I asked for a directing 'stick' which is not correct (baton)
I was supposed to ask for a directing 'wand' (baguette)

after returning once more to the highest store up on the Rue de Rome, I had my choice down to 4 wands:

- a med-long triangle handle shaped dark brown glazed wood wand
- a short fancy curved handle painted red glazed wood wand
- a med-long bubble-shaped imperfect wood (looked like a leaf imprint) heavy wand
- a med-long milk-bottle shaped black painted glazed wood med-heavy wand

the black won. wasn't too long or too short. felt good enough in my hand. just heavy enough. classy. matches most of my performing attire. and most of my wardrobe. in my price range. sharp. gave it a wave. sparks.

Conducting

 I feel beautiful when I conduct because I am part of the music.  thinking, singing, moving, feeling, and being touched by the music.  and this week, I had the honor to do this for a whole evening.  and in one of the most beautiful cathedrals on this side of the atlantic.

Our program had a restoration theme, titled 'Come, Come Ye Saints' with speakers between each set, & organ, violin and flute when appropriate.

Redeemer of Israel, The Morning Breaks, Joseph Smith's First Prayer, Praise to the Lord, Sine Nomine / For All the Saints, A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief, Praise to the Man (with congregation), and Come, Come Ye Saints (leroy Robertson).  

It has to be slightly overwhelming: choosing music, photocopying music, practicing music, memorizing music, conducting music, getting binders, doing warm-ups, booking the place, the time, the piano, the mic, flyers and posters, electronic ads, getting pianists & organists, choosing speakers in between sets, choosing uniforms, standing order, refreshments...  but it is worth that and much more.  and I have been helped so much by Brooke, Liz, Lynne, and Mal.

Even though I know all of this music so well, I can still notice new shapes and meaning while performing.  The Spirit of my Lord can enter into my heart as well and testify to me of the goodness of Jesus Christ my Savior, the Restoration of His church on Earth, and of his comfort in times of troubles.