Freaking George. He gets me. This is one of my favorites from his Montana album. It's super short, but you really have to listen to it in the context of the entire album to understand his musical intent.
After seeing George Winston live in concert last December, I have developed a new appreciation for the heartfelt and amazingly homey quality of his music. He describes himself as a "folk pianist," and, man, I really dig that. Besides the fact that he is musically gifted, he is a very compassionate human; nearly all of his concerts are benefits concerts. Totally cool. And he was about as chill as you can get in concert. He would literally play a simple harmony and just embellished it for, like, almost fifteen minutes. It was so obvious to me that he just gets lost in his music, maybe even to a fault. But I loved watching him, even if his improvisations got to be a little long. Wish I had that passion and stamina.
After this week is over, I will be SO very happy. I feel like I have been stretched to the limit this term. Even though my classes aren't that difficult, I am plugging away at my thesis every week - something I definitely enjoy, don't get me wrong! - yet I am struggling to find motivation as spring break approaches.
Today, I played in my final piano honors recital at NCC. I can't believe how well it went, considering my awful performance anxiety. My heart was heavy for many reasons, but I felt a sudden burst of inspiration and self-confidence right before I went up to perform. I kept thinking This is it. This is your last time performing in this special recital, with these special people. Make it count.
When I went up to the piano, my hands weren't shaking like they normally do! I pretended that I was alone in the hall, playing for myself and no one else. It was a great mind trick, and I honestly don't know why I haven't used it before. I am so thankful that it went well and that I can continue to honor God through music.
You'll most likely remember that when I was younger, I never had any issues with shaking or anxiety when it came to piano performance. After I stopped taking my ADD pills, I started having issues focusing and my feet started shaking constantly. The worst it got was during my senior recital. I remember playing the 3rd movement of Moonlight and thinking 'If my foot shakes any harder I'm going to blur the hell out of this sixteenth note arpeggio and all of these piano professors are going to notice and think I'm some kind of fraud for trying to play this crazy piece.'
ReplyDeleteIt got very bad, and in some spots I had to overcompensate for it by placing more weight on the opposite foot to get myself to settle down. By the time I reached the Debussy finale, I was relaxed enough that I avoided any unwanted blurring and played it the best I ever had.
Thinking back, I'm not entirely sure why I started shaking in my final performances. You would think having auditioned for a chance to play with the CSO and going nuts at Solo and Ensemble festivals (on top of difficult studio recital programs) would be a deterrent, or at least led to some consistent mental fortitude. As you mentioned here, perhaps it was simply the presence of added confidence and meaning that you found in your final college program. Somewhere along the way, I lost that. When I'm working on studio recordings, I never notice any fear, lack of confidence, or hesitance. The biggest obstacle is finding the focus of the piece I am attempting to create; though, thinking about it more, perhaps that is a symptom creative types share.
College seems so far away now. Everything does. There are days where I feel older than I am in years, and others where I feel like there's another complete lifetime ahead of me. How did this happen? Where did the time go? And of course, I am glad to have learned so much and experienced all the hardship that I went through to be here now. My birth mom, after reaching out and connecting with me this year, said she was 'so proud' to see who I am today. At what cost, I wonder? Time is elusive, and there are moments like these, these old college memories (both yours and mine) that wake me from what seems to be a stupor. When life moves forward, careers change, and love develops with different people and different walls get put up, people die, friends fade away, we react and seem to shed a shell of what we were to be born again as something else. To consider that a 'new' you is perhaps too strong a word. Or maybe not. New is not necessarily unique or completely different. I look back at these moments in time and remember that where I was and where I am is just as important. Just like where you were and where you are is equally important. Maybe I'm simply thinking too much about it.
Anyway, for some reason I never commented on your lack of shaking here. But I remember when I read this for the first time, I was proud, but also jealous that I couldn't see it for myself. You must have felt so badass after that program. Hope you are still playing; try getting out there and publishing some recordings! I find it therapeutic. Maybe you will, too.