Back to School Thoughts

So, it's fall. Or rather, I want it to be Fall already because these awesome things are happening in the Fall:

AAAND, it's back-to-school season! No surprise that I've always been a huge nerd, and I have always treasured the office supply sales more than anyone should. And this year I was lucky enough to have 6 days pretty much off just to plan and get ahead for next year. That's good, because though I'm excited to get started on the year now, I know full well what's coming once we get further along in the semester.

I've been using this time to create some new organizational systems to evaluating my student's progress and staying on top of things, scheduling studio recitals, etc. etc. I've also used the time to read up a bit on some string teaching topics and to plan for the year ahead. This will be the year that none of my students "forget" to sign up for Solo and Ensemble!

Back-to-school season is more like my New Year's Day. I usually just get about a week or so off for the holidays and between travelling to visit our families, random Christmas gigs and everything else, I don't generally get aroud to making resolutions. In the fall, however, I take some time to take stock and reflect on the past year as well as to plan for the "new year".

One of the things I've been reflecting on lately is how many wonderful people I've met in St. Louis since moving here 3 years ago. Today we had a faculty meeting at the school I teach at, where we all said goodbye to one of the branch coordinators. She has been a wonderful pillar of that school, always helpful, friendly, great with the students and the teachers alike. She will be very much missed. I've been going to these meetings for three years now, and it struck me today that I personally knew almost everyone in the room (there are 90 teachers total at the school, and definitely over 30 at the meeting, representing all instruments). Along the same lines, when I look at concert listings these days or see Facebook ads, I often will know at least one of the performers. During a short teaching break tonight, I took a walk to the farmer's market adjacent to the building I teach in and ran into one of my viola students who was selling homemade soap with her family. I bought some, of course. St. Louis is small enough that it's easy to just run into people, which is fun.

Musicians tend to be especially into making little villages of like-minded people for ourselves, often past geography. For example, I will often post questions on Facebook such as "Anyone know of a good intermediate viola concerto beyond the Vivaldi arrangements but harder than Telemann?" and get a flurry of responses from friends all across the U.S. and sometimes beyond. Being a Suzuki teacher also puts me in touch with a worldwide community of folks who want to improve music teaching and are generous in sharing what works. I have friends who are in hostile or overly competitive workplaces where sharing ideas could be used against you. I'd like to think that in the current age of constant information sharing that this mindset is dying out, but I think musicians have always been natural collaborators. Really, we have to be. Being a working musician takes a lot of people sense and nobody wants to play with a jerk.

One of my long term teaching goals is to create more of a sense of community in my large studio. I don't have the ability to do group classes yet, though I would love to. I do a viola ensemble every semester, composed of students at a wide range of playing levels, and I think this really helps the kids to get to know each other and enjoy making music together. Believe it or not, I'm already thinking ahead to this year's "Viola Christmas" ensemble concert (I know it's August, but these arrangements aren't going to write themselves, OK?). It takes a lot of extra work to create these group experiences and it's easy for me to just want to sleep in on a Saturday morning instead of teaching a class, but I always feel that it's worth it because students need to be taught that music is a shared experience. Not just practicing by myself, not just playing for mom or dad or an orchestra grade, but something that can bring people together. Most of our audience at the mall last year during the Viola Christmas concert likely had no clue what a viola is, but they knew the tunes and got to experience something special and out-of-the-ordinary during the holiday shopping season.

I think performers need to think about creating community experiences too. Some of the most successful classical musicians these days are rethinking traditional concert venues, playing in bars and libraries and even the subway. We need to meet people where they are. Our string quartet always shares a bit about each piece that we play and the past several concerts we have arranged to have a little dessert reception after the concert so we can chat and hang out with people. I really enjoy meeting the people who enjoy our music. Besides, nobody wants this:

So to all my teacher friends, here's to a great new year!

Priorities

I recently had a funny conversation with the hubs about a secret fear of mine, which is "What if I die without having read all the books I want to read?!!" Alex says he worries about this too, proving that our neuroses are well-matched. I have a bit of a love 'em and leave 'em attitude when it comes to books, which Alex makes fun of. I've been known to get library fines in the double digits because I just can't say no to taking home every single book that looks interesting, even though I'm not usually able to make all that much time to read anything. Last summer I made a reading list which I made it about halfway through and considered it an accomplishment. Although I'm trying to get through "East of Eden" because Alex thinks it's amazing, I'm really a non-fiction girl. I always gravitate to reading non-fiction, and almost always stuff related to my work. I don't know if that's diseased or a sign that I like my job.

I also finally caved and bought this book:

Teaching from the Balance Point


I have to say, this book is pretty awesome. I was expecting it to be much more dense and detail-oriented. The author is a very well-known Suzuki violin teacher and clinician, and is widely admired in Suzuki circles, so I expected him to have oodles of upper string pedagogy wisdom. Although there was wisdom, to be sure, I found the format spare, even zen-like and not all that long.

The main focus of the book is on priorities in teaching, which is something I've found myself coming back to a lot this year. I haven't been teaching that long, so maybe this is newbie syndrome, but I would say I have some kind of pedagogical existential crisis at least a few times a year where I ask myself questions such as: "Are my students progressing enough? Am I teaching enough music literacy? Are they enjoying music enough or is it too much technique? Am I communicating expectations enough? Am I encouraging autonomy in my older students enough? Am I providing enough opportunities for performing and community? Am I being "Suzuki enough"? Am I being "too Suzuki" with older students or transfers who have learned a more reading-based method? Am I using enough etudes? Am I teaching enough scales? I know this is ridiculous, but I literally lost some sleep one night a few months ago worrying that I had encouraged a student to get a viola that might be too big for her.

Anyway, I have found this book to be very helpful in focuing these nagging thoughts into something a bit more productive. The big take-away of the book is sticking with priorities in teaching. My amazing Book 1 teacher trainer shared these with us, but it was great seeing them spelled out from the source. Just to summarize, the author believes that in string teaching, we need to address (in order of importance for maximum growth): posture and form, intonation, tone, musicality, and notes and bowings to new pieces. Of course, musicality and artistry is the #1 goal, but Kreitman's point is that musicality can't fully develop if the other foundational stuff isn't in place. I've been reflecting on these goals more and it has helped me to develop a more zen-like lesson format. I tend to cram too much into each session (even in a one-point lesson), and revisiting this approach has given me license to step back and look at what the final goal is and being patient to take it one step at a time. Really, I ask the parents and students to be patient with and trust the long, slow process of learning instrumental technique, and I need to be more patient and trusting of the process myself.

I've been thinking about the priorities in my own playing as well. Last weekend I gave an unaccompanied solo recital, which was supposed to happen in March before March became insane. I had more fun performing than usual with less nerves and was very happy with the memorization. And it was nice to see a lot of my friend there!

 My big goal with the recital was actually to just get through it endurance-wise without pain because it was an all unaccompanied program, which is tiring. That might seem crazy to a non-musician, but holding your left arm up for an hour is actually quite fatiguing. To work on my posture, I've been doing a lot of yoga through this YouTube channel. I highly recommend this particular series of yoga videos. The instructor, Adriene, is kind of like your cool granola cousin who happens to teach yoga. There's not a lot of talk about finding your chakras or whatever and I find she moves at a good pace for beginners.

Through doing yoga every other day, I feel like my teaching has actually improved because I'm less tense and less anxious, so I'm able to enjoy and be present to my students more. I also find that when my students are inevitably exhausted or hyper or checked-out (thanks, summer camps!), I'm more able to roll with the punches. This might sound crazy, but so metimes life is lived outside-in If I have a student who rolls their shoulder points inwards and slouches, it's almost impossible for them to play confidently and with a big tone. Similarly, if I only spend all day cramped in front of a little desk or contorting myself un-ergonomically around a viola, I'm bound to be cranky. And since I know about mirror neurons, it follow that the more relaxed and balanced I am, the more my students will be also.

We will see how much I'm able to keep doing yoga during the crazy school year, but I'm hoping I'll be able to carve out the time and keep my priorities. Next week we are travelling to visit our families in Pittsburgh and Cleveland, so I'm thinking of ways to keep myself healthy while enjoying some family time.

Teaching Confidence in Middle School Girls

It's funny the things one remembers from childhood. When I was probably around 7 years old, my initial career goal was to be a taxi driver, because I liked the yellow cars and thought it would be interesting to meet different people and go all over the city. However, like many children, I eventually declared that I wanted to be the President of the United States, because that seemed important? I had no real understanding of what kind of job this was, but I had realized it was a popular answer among children and I wished to be ambitious (I've always been Type-A). After a careers talk at school, I went home and asked my mom if I could be the President one day. She got quiet for a moment and then said "Well, I'm not sure. There has never been a woman President. All the presidents have been men."

We hadn't really gotten around to learning the names of the presidents yet, so this was probably news to me. I remember asking her why, and she said that some people think a woman might not make a good President. She also said "I think Hilary Clinton would make a wonderful President. It's too bad she would never get elected." That was in 1993, and last month Hilary announced her presidential run. I don't agree with all of her policies, or course, but it makes me very excited at the possibility that there could be a woman President in my lifetime.

I've been thinking a bit about gender lately. This year, it seems there have been a lot more stories about sexism cropping up in mainstream and social media from the campus rape problem to the lack of girls in STEM to the Women on 20's campaign. I don't ever remember there being more attention paid to women.

Relating this all back to viola, at a recent orchestra service I ended up talking to a few of my fellow violists who also have large teaching studios. This was around Solo Ensemble time and we all remarked on how our female middle school students tended to play too quietly, be more nervous and shy and play worse under pressure than in their lessons. I haven't observed the same level of this issue in my boy students, and I have very rarely encountered a girl student who didn't have this problem. In my experience, the girls tend to play out and are as confident as the boys until around the middle school years. Since I haven't been teaching for very long in the same location, I am hopeful that the students I started as small children will develop into more confident and self-assured players than my transfer students currently are, but in the meantime, I'm developing some strategies:


1. No "upspeak" in lessons and no mumbling. When you answer a question, answer it.
You know those people? Whose voices dip upward? Whenever they say anything? And it makes you wonder if they really believe what they are saying?
Even some grown women do this a lot and it tends to undermine their message. Part of music performance is learning to present yourself with at least the impression of ease and confidence and I think speaking with authority, even if you are unsure, is a part of that.

2. Learn to accept compliments graciously.
This is another thing I'm a stickler about. After a play-through, I generally give a specific praise, such as "your intonation is very consistent" or "you're really getting a hang of the bow distribution we talked about", then I follow with a specific area for improvement. Many of the girls I teach will not accept the compliment, and instead explain about how they aren't very good at X, Y, and Z. I believe that the first step to improving is to know what you are already good at and owning it, and if a student starts self-deprecating, I immediately make them say a positive, specific thing about their performance. This also develops listening skills.



3. Dynamics are not helpful suggestions, they are mandatory.
If it says forte, you must play forte. Some of this is related to tone production issues, but much is psychological.

4. A dynamic of piano does not mean you disappear.
I'm gonna just lay this out: one of my biggest pet peeves is when orchestra directors insist that the only way to play soft dynamics is to move the bow closer to the fingerboard. This works OK if there are 8 violists in a section, but isn't acceptable in most solo playing. Letting the bow slide over to the soft, fuzzy place on the string gives students an excuse not to play out, so I generally forbid it except for special occasions.

5. I try to refrain from commenting on a girl's appearance, since I rarely comment on a boy's appearance. Basically, I want the lesson time and the performance time to be focused on the music. I've seen often that parents and other adults will extravagantly compliment a little girl's dress and who can blame them? These kids are darn cute and there are shoes available for sale that are made exclusively of glitter. The issue I see is, if you mostly compliment a girl on her looks and not her tenacity or accomplishments or brains, it tells her "the most important thing we value about you is that you are cute". I will make a lone exception for raving about those new LED light-up shoes.

I mean, have you seen these? So much more game than the single-color-light-ups from my childhood.

On a side note, I strangely had the same experience of comments on our wedding. I liked my dress, yes, but would have appreciated less comments about how I looked pretty and more on, for example, the way we had designed our programs or the readings and music my husband and I had found so special or the entertainment value of our reception (we had a pinata and a live polka performance, for starters).


I get frustrated when my students don't seem to be reaching their full potential because they refuse to take chances or play out. Playing loudly and with confidence is putting oneself on the line, and for many girls (and boys!) this is very hard. I remember being there. I was one of those people who never played loud for a long time. I hope my encouragement can help my students have a bit more confidence in viola and perhaps in life. In the end, I don't actively discuss confidence directly very often, but I insist on actions which will hopefully lead to confident behaviors. It's hard to play small if you give a large and clear cue, or play only in the middle contact point with a consistently straight bow, or use ample arm weight. I think in many ways that confidence is a "fake it 'til you make it" skill, and performing on the viola provides a unique outlet into learning how to fake it, projecting an imitation of confidence until one day the mind forgets to be nervous. That is how it has been for me at least.

Viola March Madness

Is it me, or is every concert in St. Louis happening in March? January I had practically no concerts, February I had one concert, March I have 6 concerts plue rehearsals for other non-March concerts. Being extra busy lately, I have been reflecting on the concept of "life balance".

I often see articles online or in magazines such as Real Simple talking about finding balance in one's work and personal lives, and I often have to laugh because my profession is so decidedly unbalanced. The last couple of weeks, I've been putting in quite a few 12 hour days, barely eating at home, driving all over the place to rehearse, and cramming in things like grocery shopping and laundry whenever I can. I haven't had a day free of rehearsing, performing, or teaching since February. And, as crazy as March has been, I just accepted to play on another concert next month and April is looking much the same. I'll admit, I'm at the point where I'm sometimes a little cranky and would love to just have a day off already, but I'm not sure that I would actually change anything. My husband, by the way, has been a saint through this time, and took over more than his share of cooking and cleaning during one of my really crazy weeks.

My job is such that I find some of the normal rules of work-life balance don't apply. Sure, what I do absolutely is work and a long day of playing and teaching can totally take it out of me. But conversely, I get a rush from making music together with my colleagues and friends, or seeing my students improve and grow. It seems strange, but I often go into work tired after having practiced all morning (you know that sleepy 2pm hump), only to finish teaching refreshed and re-energized at 8:30pm. I think of it as my teaching second wind. There is something about doing creative work that is rejuvenating and self-sustaining.


On the other hand, there's a thin line between between being active in performing and getting burned-out, and I've experienced both in my own life. I think I've gotten a lot better at carving out down-time for myself so that I can still enjoy playing and teaching and not become an over-scheduled zombie. If my playing starts to suffer or if I'm not able to be present and reliable for my students, I know I've taken on too much or not the right kind of projects. I also have certain non-negotiables, such as always eating a healthy breakfast, working out regularly, stretching, and coffee dispersed at well-timed intervals.


This past weekend, I played Schubert's Arpeggione Sonata on Friday at SIUE and then Sunday at Christ Church Cathedral in downtown STL. I had never performed that piece before, and I've enjoyed learning it. The Schubert is really different from other solo pieces I have played. For viola, people sometimes think of it as an "easy piece", because advanced high schoolers can play it, but for me it challenged some aspects of my playing that I didn't even know needed work. It's one of the closest things we have to a Mozart sonata, in that it's very exposed, somewhat virtuosic, and sounds absolutely wretched if played even slightly out of tune. I'll admit, I've discovered through playing this piece that I really am a late 19th Century/20th Century girl at heart. It has taken me a lot longer to bond with this piece than with many others I have played, but I have a lot of fun playing it and am happy to check it off my viola life list. My pianist, Kris, is always fun to work with, and some of trickier passages were easier when I could just bounce off of his phrasing and match his articulations. The view was nice too. Here's a photo from the back wall. Viola angel!

On Saturday, I was at the CMS for around 7 hours, rehearsing and playing for the Young Composer's Competition. To be honest, I was surprised how much I enjoyed each of the pieces. With student composers, there are at usually at least a few clunkers or just annoying uncomfortable string writing, but these pieces were all inventive, had interesting effects, and were sensitively scored. Plus, it was fun getting to talk with the composers a bit and they were are very nice and appreciative of our work. And there was a reception. Always love a reception.

Speaking of food, we are hosting a potluck on Easter, which will be my only day off in the last 4 weeks or so, and I'm super-excited. I love cooking, and I love planning big meals for when I get a bit of down-time. I'm quite type-A and began planning the menu for this year's Thanksgiving feast in August. I'm Martha-freaking Stewart about 3 times a year. Like, look at this tablescape. I'm never going to actually do this, but to know that someone else is living their life balance for me just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Life-Changing Magic

Hi Friends,

So, Fall semester happened, and all the concerts, teaching, and unrelated life events that went with it. But let's talk about something else which has been occupying my mind lately: tidying. Over the last month or so I have been on a major tidying kick, inspired by a book I happened to pick up in December called:

Now, I'm not getting paid by Marie Kondo or her publisher (although I know the viola blogger bump is surely sought-after in the book industry). But I have to say this is one of the most, well, life-changing books I've ever read, period.

When I was growing up, for various reasons, we moved almost constantly. I lived in Maryland, California, Illinois, and Kentucky, then went to school in Wisconsin, Austria, and New York. I think because of this constant moving, I really never got the memo about personal neatness and organization. If everything is going back in a box soon, why bother? As an adult, I'd read a few books and blogs on tidying over the years, and have been steadily improving, but this book was really a whole different experience. Here is how it is different from other organizational books:

1. Cleaning is a festival. I have often thought of tidying as a daily chore that must be accomplished little by little. But Kondo says that this approach will leave your tidying never done. Instead, she says to set aside a special time to clean, and try to tidy your whole house in basically one go so you really get rid of anything in the house you no longer need. Conveniently, I had a random January make-up lesson week in which I only taught a few students a day, which freed up four hours a day for a week that I could devote entirely to tidying. This is very rare in my life, so I was grateful for the timing.

Mooch helped.

2. Only keep things in your home which bring you joy. This is a tricky one. Growing up, we were thrifty and conservation-minded and hated wasting money. If a shirt fit and was still wearable, it was still in rotation. But Kondo says that to keep things in the house which are not used and enjoyed is not respectful of the objects themselves, and that it's depressing to have a bunch of stuff around the house that is unappreciated. I have to say that I feel better having donated some clothes I just didn't like, so they will be appreciated by someone new, instead of giving me a pang of guilt every time I see them in the closet.

3. You don't tidy by room, you tidy by item. For example, instead of "cleaning the bedroom", I spent an afternoon where I put everything clothing item I own on my bed and sorted through them all at once. In addition to being thorough, by the end of that, I knew exactly what clothing items I owned (I'm apparently a bit of a sock hoarder, but I do need some more long-sleeved shirts). After this I sorted every single book I owned in the house. Then every single piece of paper. I feel like I now know and appreciate what I own more than before and there's nothing happier than staring at a bookshelf filled only with books I love.

Who cares about the Beast? I wanted that library!

4. Anthropomorphizing inanimate objects is fun! In one of my favorite quotes from the book, Kondo explains why it is disrespectful to ball up or fold down the hem on your socks. She claims that when the socks are in the drawer, it is their little sock vacation time, and they should be gently rolled so their elastic isn't over-stretched. I'll admit, hilarious, but it's something that makes intuitive sense to me. At least thinking about what sort of treatment is "kind" to an object gives me a greater appreciation of my things and a feeling of having enough.

5. Fold your clothes in neat little squares so that they stand upright in the drawer like the spines of books. I was a bit skeptical of this one, because I used to find folding boring. But just watch this video. It's like poetry in motion. I didn't earn the origami merit badge in Girl Scouts (my stupid frog wouldn't jump), but I feel like I'm redeeming myself and I actually get a kick out of folding my shirts into cute little squares.

There are still some odds and ends that I've scheduled to complete in my cleaning tasks, including this ridiculously beautiful fridge: I mean, just look at it. But I've completed the vast majority of my cleaning goals, I've experienced the following effects:

I can get ready in the morning at least 15 minutes faster than before, because I know exactly where everything is and can see everything at a glance. As a result, I feel less rushed.

My work space is much more organized and efficient. I don't find myself hunting for papers or books, and since I have space to put everything away, I feel that once I've completed a task, I'm really "done" with it.

It is easier to see what we have and what we need. Today, I realized we need more Advil, because I now only put medicines in one specific drawer in the bathroom. This concept also helps with foodstuffs, since I can now easily see everything we have in the pantry.

But, most importantly, tidying and reorganizing has meant that I got to make a few trips to the happiest place on earth for Type-A's: The Container Store! Have you ever been to this place? It's relaxing just to walk around in there and see everything all neatly stacked.

I think that cleaning can be a transforming experience if undertaken with thoughtfulness and patience.I now find cleaning to be a relaxing pastime. Alex is still very much the designated cleaning person, as he does a "turbo-clean" of the apartment every weekend, complete with bleach and Lysol fumes which last for hours. But I'm incorporating more tidiness into my life and really enjoying it. If you'd like some more inspiration and entertainment, please enjoy the Japanese made-for-t.v. movie which dramatizes Marie Kondo's cleaning business. It's cute and funny and sometimes oddly touching, this mini-drama about folding socks.