Spring Things

It's a little late in the season, true, but better la— oh, you know.

 

Spring read:  The Ear of the Heart: An Actress' Journey from Hollywood to Holy Vows. This is the life story of Mother Dolores Hart, Prioress of the Abbey of Regina Laudis in Bethlehem, Connecticut, who cut short a successful career in film to enter cloistered religious life. I think it's very appropriate for spring, as it is all about dying to an old life and beginning a new and better one. I've only just started it, but I can say that so far it is engrossing, moving, entertaining, funny, surprising, and well written. Co-authored with her long-time friend, Richard DeNeut, with plenty of photographs.

 

Spring watch:  I Capture the Castle (2003), starring Romola Garai, is a charming and fairly faithful adaptation of Dodie Smith's much-beloved novel of the same name, and the story—coming of age, first love—is very spring-appropriate, despite the decaying castle and the blocked writer/father (brilliantly played by Bill Nighy). Return to Me (2000), with Minnie Driver and David Duchovny, is a romantic comedy with a unique premise: Minnie plays a heart transplant recipient whose new heart was acquired from David Duchovny's character's dead wife (got that?). Carroll O'Conner (of All in the Family  fame) is wonderful as Minnie's grandfather, and his poker-playing/bowling cronies are so endearingly quirky. This is one of my favorite go-to films if I'm in the mood for something really sweet, PG, and tear-jerking. And, since spring is the season when God's creatures look for mates, Emma, Jane Austen's irrepressible matchmaker, is a must. For me, the only filmed version worth watching is ITV's 1996 version with Kate Beckinsale. I saw Gwenyth Paltrow's a few times, and the most recent BBC one with Romola Garai once, and that was quite enough  for me. Blech. (If you want a more detailed account than "blech," you can read my Amazon review for the BBC version here, on my reviews page—scroll down a bit—where you can also find my positive review of the ITV version.)

 

Spring listen: I was a pianist, after all, so naturally I'd turn to piano repertoire; namely, Mozart's early piano sonatas and concertos. Specifically, his Concerto in E-flat, No. 9 ("Jeunehomme"—literally, "young man"). Here is the first movement in an incandescent performance by that exquisite Mozartean, Mitsuko Uchida, with Jeffrey Tate conducting the Mozarteum Orchestra.



Music Monday: How I Met Mozart

     In the first few posts under "My Musical Life" I wrote about the beginnings of my career as a pianist and that my very first teacher was a Mrs. Woliver, one of those neighborhood housewives who gave piano lessons in the evenings and on weekends. Though I never kept in touch with Mrs. Woliver after leaving her tutelage to pursue more advanced piano studies, I have never forgotten the solid foundation she gave me, nor her gentle patience.

     She started me off with a series of books that so many other pianists start off with, the John Thompson series, the first of which is Teaching Little Fingers to Play. Over the next year or so I moved rapidly through the next three or four books of the series. The most memorable pieces from that series were short, simplified snatches from larger works by major composers: a minuet by Bach, a sarabande by Handel, a bit of Beethoven—and the first half of the theme from the first movement of Mozart's Sonata in A Major, K. 331. I was so taken with Mozart's elegantly tender theme that when a few years later I bought his complete sonatas, K. 331 was the first one I wanted to study. For some reason, though, I worked on several of the others before I finally got around to it, and I never performed it or used it in competition. Rather, the D Major K. 576 became my big "war horse" Mozart sonata.

     After I moved to Houston to immerse myself in opera, I would from time to time play through the K. 331 for renewal and relaxation. I still have a soft spot in my heart for it. It did, after all, introduce me to one of my greatest musical friends—Wolfie.

     P. S. Just a few years ago, I saw Mrs. Woliver's obituary in the paper. She had continued to teach piano till almost the end of her life.

 

     Here is the great Walter Gieseking playing the first movement of K. 331. Perhaps because of the time constraints of older recordings, he doesn't take any of the repeats. Still, this performance is matchless in beauty, elegance, phrasing, and articulation.

A Tribute to My Old Friend Wolfie

     It's Wolfie's birthday today—Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, that is—and I just wanted to take a moment to thank him for everything he's given me and done for me.
     Our friendship got off to a bit of a rocky start. Before Wolfie and I met, my best musical friend was Johann (Sebastian Bach). Johann and I hit it off from the very beginning. It seems my hands were made to play his music, and my sensibilities felt at home with it. Whenever I played or listened to him, I felt an almost visceral connection; something ancient and sacred stirred in the depths of my soul. Our friendship triggered my lifelong passion for early music.
     Maybe because I was so naturally in tune with Johann, I was initially uncomfortable with Wolfie. I can't remember what my first Mozart piece was—I suppose it was the Sonata in C, K. 545, the first Mozart sonata for most young pianists. However, I do remember that my first Mozart concerto happened to be one of his most difficult, the D Major No. 26 ("Coronation"). Why that particular one? Just because my teacher, Myrna von Nimitz, happened to have a score of it at hand when she decided I should try a Mozart concerto. I was 14 at the time.
     Now, Myrna had a slightly manipulative streak. While I struggled to make sense of Mozart—the subtlety of him, his humor, pathos, elegance, and exuberance—Myrna constantly reminded me that another of her students, who happened to be my age and (at that time) at the same pianistic level, was a natural whiz at Mozart. She never experienced anything like the struggle I was going through. Myrna never wasted an opportunity to compare my Mozart with hers, and always unfavorably. Maybe she was trying to light a fire under me; who knows?
     I don't know if it actually was Myrna's jibes, or something mysterious in my musical makeup, but somehow "things" fell into place between Wolfie and me, luckily before I began using his Concerto 26 in competitions (and earning prizes with it). All I do know is, once he and I finally meshed, we became the very best of friends. He, along with Johann, was my "calling card" composer, my specialty. Our friendship grew even stronger when I moved years later from solo pianist to opera coach and répétiteur; never was I so happy as when I was assigned to a Mozart opera. And when my technique and musical sensibilities needed to be purged of too much Puccini, Strauss, or Wagner, or one of the many harrowing new operas HGO was so fond of premiering, I would take out my well-worn score of Mozart sonatas and avail myself of their purifying elixir.
     I thank you, dearest Wolfie, not only for your genius, but for keeping me sane and musically grounded. You are a true friend and I will always love you.