Musicians Are Real People

Greetings, readers!
I apologize for disappearing from my blog this summer! I have lots to write about, so come back and read more soon! (I don't want to bore you with gobs of thought and inspiration all at once. One idea at a time.)

This summer I had two major musical experiences. The first was working at Durley Youth Camp as the Worship Director.  I was there for about seven weeks, and it definitely was the highlight of my summer.  I hung out with kids, chose song-lists for each of the chapel services, and played my guitar. Oh, and I sang, too. Using my voice and playing my tertiary instrument in front of a crowd is not my dream job, by any means. In fact, I was just as nervous as (if not more than) I am when I give viola recitals. The other musical experience I had this summer took place at Indiana University, at a Violin/Viola Pedagogy Retreat. It was FABULOUS...but I'll get to that later. For now, I must stay on topic.

Although these two parts of my summer were drastically different (at camp, everything was funsy wunsy, and at the retreat everything was...serious werious.), I found a shared principle: musicians are real people.

When you listen to a CD of your favorite artist, do you imagine a human? A person who has had to try and try again to get that lick just right? A person who has hashed out all possible interpretations of a single phrase before deciding on the one that is the most musical? Most likely, no. It's a little easier to believe that a musician is a real person when they are using the same strum pattern for every song in the set, or when their voice cracks when they sing above a G, or when they forget to capo their guitar and the song nearly falls apart (this was me at camp, for those of you who didn't pick up on that). Of course she's a human.

I think it wasn't until that retreat at IU that I fully understood (and believed) that all those incredible professional musicians are real-life humans too.

On the first night, we all attended a fantastic chamber concert. I can't remember who was playing, or what piece it was, but I remember feeling a sense of relief when the cellist completely lost where he was in his music. The rest of the quartet had to scramble to keep the right harmony going, as to not get ahead of the bass line in the cello part. I was sitting in the front row, and I remember watching the other players' eyes zoom back and forth in a panic. After about 10 seconds of chaos, the group was back together, and they finished the piece with poise. It was awesome, actually. A huge mistake, and a great recovery.

Don't get me wrong, I was not "rejoicing in another man's misfortune;" I was simply relieved to know that the cellist was a real person.

Real people can do amazing things, but they cannot do amazing things 100% of the time. I found encouragement in that fact. I mess up a lot. It's comforting to know that even though I screw up, there is hope for me. I don't mean the hope of being perfect or famous; I mean the hope of being okay. A slip-up in a Brahms Sonata does not affect the rest of my life. Sure, I may be mad at myself for a month or two, or it may prevent me from nailing a doctoral audition, but I'll still be okay. That cellist and I will be just fine, because although music makes our lives what they, it isn't the source of our life.

Peace,
Blakeley

Patience

Today in class, my colleagues and I were discussing teaching the violin/viola.  I showed a video of myself teaching a viola lesson that I gave about 3 weeks ago.  It was amazing to look back and see how much my student has grown since that lesson.  My student is a Theory professor at NIU.  He is extremely dedicated and patient.  For several months, we worked on creating a beautiful tone on just open strings.  No "music" was being made, but in my mind (and his, I hope) he was like a singer, learning the importance of taking a deep breath with his diaphragm before singing an aria.  We could begin "singing songs" right away, but there would be no breath support without learning how to draw a deep breath first.

For months we worked on tone, this "deep breath" before he sang his first tune.  Recently, he started piecing together notes and phrases, and making music for the first time! How exciting! And how PATIENT.
As I explained this particular student to my colleagues, I realized how incredibly lucky am to have such a student.  The conversation soon developed into several questions: How do we make a student realize that they need to be patient? How can we convince a parent of a beginning student that taking time for good tone and posture is vital (and NOT boring!)?

Then it hit me.

We need to be the patient ones. We need to be the dedicated ones. We need to give our all, try our best, love our hardest, and smile our brightest. We need to want to make something beautiful.
If we end up with dedicated, patient, understanding students, then good for us.  But I think we ought to focus on being the dedicated, patient, and understanding ones. Who knows, maybe we'll rub off on the people around us...especially our students.

Good tone and much love,
Blakeley Woessner

Recital day

Oh hello!

I am glad to report that I made it through the recital day! Actually, I shouldn't say "made it through," because that makes it sound like I didn't have a great time. Quite the contrary: I had a super terrific day.

On performance days I'm always reminded of love and community.  Before, during, and after my recital today, my phone was blowing up with texts and voicemails of encouragement and congratulations.  It was a great reminder that I am not alone, because I often feel alone here. NIU is more than 10x the size of where I went for my undergrad.  I also rarely feel a strong sense of community here, but yesterday I did.

I walked out of the greenroom, and the room lit up with smiles.  My family was there, my amazing boyfriend was there, and some great friends were there.  Thanks to the webcast, many of my friends in other states were able to watch my recital, too. I felt loved by the audience, and that is something I never expected to happen at NIU.  It reminded me that community is not necessarily something that can be seen at every moment of every day.  Community takes time, and yesterday I saw a great deal of it.  It made me glad to be at NIU.

So if you're reading this, thank you.  And if you watched the recital online, thank you. I couldn't be happier.

Love,
Blakeley Woessner

Calm

Hello!

I'm giving my graduate recital at NIU in 2 days. How scary! Surprisingly, I'm feeling calm today. Here's the proper definition of "calm" in my current situation:

Calm: Shaky hands. Weak knees. Excited. Nervous without feeling like I'm about to throw up. Prepared. Ready.

My definition probably seems a bit oxymoronic, but those are the feelings I am experiencing. I may be jittery, but I am okay.

Preparing for this recital has been unlike any other experience in my musical life.  I've worked harder for this than any other performance I've given. I suppose that's where the "calm" comes in. I know that I am able to play everything on my program. Earlier this week, there were about 18 measures that were causing me problems, but after ironing those out for hours and hours, I feel ready.

On Wednesday, someone asked me, "Are you ready?" I said, "As ready as I can be today." Everyday I grow more and more ready. Don't get me wrong, it doesn't mean that Sunday at 2:50 p.m. I will be cool as a cucumber (I wish!). It means that because I've worked hard, I have nothing to fret. Hard work pays off.

Keep calm and practice on,
Blakeley Woessner

Graduate Recital!!!

Hello!

I am so excited! My graduate recital is Sunday, February 3rd at 3:00pm CST! If you're in Dekalb, IL....stop by the NIU recital hall! But for the rest of you, you can watch a LIVE WEBCAST of my recital! How cool is technology? I hope you can tune in before the big game!
The program will include Bach, Brahms, and Hindemith.
Should be a fun time! I'm looking forward to sharing my heart with music.

Happy practicing, and see you on the 3rd!

Blakeley Woessner

Tone

Greetings, dearest music lovers,

I would like to share an amazing essay that my very first viola teacher wrote. I hope it inspires you to have wonderful tone, and focused practice.

In hope of a ringing tone,
Blakeley Woessner

Great Thoughts on Practicing

Hello, friends!

Check out this great article about practicing! It's a quick read, and a wonderful reminder!
And even if you're not a musician, it can apply to your life.

Here's to improvement,
Blakeley Woessner