MY TEENAGE YEARS - Part II

     My brother, John, shared a personal reflection with me today in a trans-Atlantic telephone call.    He said that his interest in classical music is rooted in the fact that he grew up listening to my practicing the piano every day.    I used to get up when mother did, (at 5:30 a.m.) to practice.    She would drink her coffee and read the newspaper - she always said the music relaxed her.   This was our daily routine.   John used to wear earplugs to bed some nights, so he could sleep later, if he wished -  he could still hear the piano, only less.  Working at the instrument in the early morning turned into a lifelong habit.   If I have not practiced at the beginning of the day, things feel out of order, so to speak.   John, who now lives half the year in Columbia, South America, said he feels sorry for people who haven't been exposed to classical music, as he was.   I know that it does make all the difference in the world.   
     We also spoke about our mutual experiences of growing up in our parents' home.   Mother was a fanatic about the house being kept clean.   Both of us had chores to do in the morning -  dusting the furniture, the window sills, and mopping the kitchen floor - all before leaving for school at 7:45 a.m.   She also felt the need to periodically scrutinize our rooms for anything she considered 'a mess' and toss out items she deemed 'no longer necessary' or 'dilapidated.'   She carried this practice much too far, in our opinion.    One day I could not find my favorite panda bear, which used to go everywhere with me.   Of course, the bear (named 'Blackie') had gradually become worn - his fur was mostly gone, and he was truly 'dilapidated'- but I adored him.   After rushing all over the house searching frantically for him, I had a sudden brainwave.    Maybe mother had done something with him, like.... throw him away....so I went out to the garage where the garbage can was kept, and lifted the lid.   And THERE HE WAS!!  I grabbed him, brushed him off and carried him back into the house - looking for my mother, to give her a piece of my mind!   She was in the kitchen, and when I told her that I had found my 'lost' panda bear which she had thrown OUT, she was somewhat shocked.   Furthermore, I said, "I will be leaving home, if this ever happens again!"   By this time I was sobbing, and could not stop.   (I was 8 years old at this juncture!)   John was also crying, not only because I was, but because one of his favorite trucks had disappeared, and he feared for its demise.    We both confronted mother, and made her promise not to do that again.   She did keep her word - at least until I left home for Eastman, when she 'cleaned out my room' and gave away my prized, large teddy bear which always sat on my bed.....more on that story later.   Mother was a very competent person, and knew how to take care of certain things in life, but she had no real idea of how a child's mind worked - that what may have seemed unimportant to her, could be crucial to a little boy or girl.    She had no gift for empathy, and her imagination was completely undeveloped,  as a result,  I am sure,  of her own unsympathetic upbringing.  
     During my junior year, mother decided that I should not stay in school for my senior year - she was a teacher there and felt that much time was wasted on non-essentials in the 12th grade.   Both my brother and I had always attended summer school at Eastern Washington College of Education with our parents (they both took courses to fulfill certain requirements for salary increases).   John and I took various subjects, (which had high school credits attached).    We had fun doing this -- certain  courses,  such as learning how to edit a newspaper were excellent preparation for other types of work.    I also took American History, Washington State History, and Civics, which were required for graduation.   In addition, my outside music lessons had credits attached which counted toward a high school diploma.    And, of course, I was required to study shorthand and bookkeeping by my mother, who taught those subjects (in those days there were no computer science courses).   I had learned to type at about age 10 - a most useful skill in school and everywhere else.  So thanks to mother's foresight I graduated at the end of my junior year with top academic honors.    (At that time I was on the Central Valley girls' basketball team, which was in the state finals that year, and I was the table tennis champion that year as well.)     My parents were heavily criticized for instigating my early graduation from high school, but that didn't bother them.    After that, however, a rule was made to insure that all students be physically present for 3 years in high school - grades 10, 11, and 12.   In retrospect, this all seems rather silly - matters have progressed quite beyond that point.   In this computer age, one can take courses online, and actually earn a diploma in that manner.   
     And so, I enrolled in Gonzaga University in Spokane, living at home and driving to school.   My plan to attend The Eastman School of Music, was still uppermost in my mind, and it was decided (after my audition tape was accepted) that I begin at ESM in my sophomore year, as a transfer student.   The die was cast - I was ready to move on.   

MY TEENAGE YEARS: Growing up in Spokane

    After my audition with Dr. Moldenhauer, he accepted me as a student, and we got to work.   I had lessons very often - much more than the usual one per week - and he never charged my parents for the extra time.   He was an amazing pedagogue; requiring much devotion to the study of music in general.. so that intellectually I became very conversant with the history of music and music theory.   He would quiz me on certain topics, to make sure I had learned what was assigned.   He lived and breathed music, as did Rosaleen, his wife....together they made a formidable team.   Not a moment was wasted in their lives; they made a point of playing tennis in the early morning, followed by a walk, then breakfast.    Sometimes I stayed at their home, which I thoroughly enjoyed.   Conversations were peppered with salient facts about certain composers and works;  there was always something to remember, or questions to be asked and answered.    They wanted me to move in with them completely, as he thought I should be immersed in the world of music at all times.   My mother, however, had a different idea, and wasn't about to allow her daughter to be 'adopted,' as it were.   However, when I had my lessons at their home (not at the conservatory like the other students), I would always stay for dinner, and thus be exposed to more instruction, quizzes, and much story-telling.    It was about this time that he became afflicted with a devastating eye condition, which caused partial blindness at first.   Because there was no way to reverse this, he studied every minute that he wasn't teaching - staying up all night to read and memorizing everything possible, while he could still see.   The condition worsened, and Rosaleen always had to drive him everywhere, as he developed 'tunnel vision' which didn't allow for driving a car.    She became his eyes.   But he never complained - just accepted the fact of what was.    He was an altogether extraordinary man.
     During these years, I entered many competitions in the Greater Spokane Music Festival - and won them all.   It became a common occurrence to see my name in the paper.    I also   began studying voice and tap dancing (which was a lot of fun for me).   In addition, I became a member of a Triple Trio, called the 'Rainbow Girls' - because we wore beautiful dresses made in the same style, and in all colors of the rainbow.   (Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, plus white and black)  Our group used to appear on television often, and in various venues in the city.    There was a television  competition called "Starlit Stairway," which I won numerous times for my piano performances.    When I was 14, a national competition (whose headquarters were based in NYC)  held auditions for musical acts from all the Western States, and then the finals at the Spokane Coliseum, a large sports arena that held about 15,000 - 20,000 people.   I auditioned for this event, and was one of the 25 acts selected.  (It was called the "Ted Mack Amateur Hour" -- a forerunner of the Ed Sullivan Show).    My entire high school attended to support me, and the place was packed - other high schools also came (a Spokane girl, [me], was one of the finalists!)  I won second place in this contest - which included money, and a scholarship to Tanglewood, a prestigious music camp that convened in the summertime.    The entire experience was so exciting for me;  I wasn't one bit nervous to play in front of all those people.    (Large crowds are always easier than small, intimate gatherings.)   The money was nice, but the important prize was Tanglewood.   However, that was not to be.   Mother wouldn't hear of allowing me to travel by myself, even with a chaperone (which the sponsors would provide) and be someplace unknown to her!   Oh no!   That was out of the question.   I was bitterly disappointed and very upset with her for this.   (I now understand  her reasoning, but then I was absolutely devastated.)    So I began a campaign designed to persuade mother to allow me to enroll in the Eastman School of Music after my graduation from high school.   I thought that my parents couldn't possibly object to my enrollment in a noted music school like Eastman (which was part of the University of Rochester) where I would get a degree from a university, and not just a diploma.    Also there were dormitories connected to Eastman, which was a plus for anxious parents (unlike Juilliard, which had no such facility. Students had to live in an apartment, with a roommate, of course, but in New York City.   They would NEVER have allowed that.)  I wrote on a piece of paper that I was going to go to Eastman, and put it on my mirror. so it could be seen every day.   (I have often done this - it is a way of affirming what it is I wanted and intended to do...and is a very powerful tool.)
     Perhaps I should mention here that my younger brother, John, (who, remember, was told he could not study music professionally), was about to enter high school, and was considered a top student, thank goodness.    He had his share of honors, to be sure, also studying the piano with me plus playing the clarinet in the band.    However, watching his older sister getting constant acclaim, must have been, at times, hard to swallow.   We had a close relationship growing up, and played consistently together.   Between the two of us, we had a huge quantity of stuffed animals, which we endowed with certain personality traits, and constructed scenarios including a daily soap opera dialogue.    This was so much fun - our parents could scarcely believe that we would spend hours building a store, a circus in the garage, and whatever else as a backdrop for our little stuffed ones.   I also used to place them all around the piano and then play for them, pretending they were a 'live' audience applauding me.   John assisted in the fantasy, of course.   I remember the day when I 'decided' that I was too old for such things any more, and my brother was so upset.   He wasn't finished with it yet, so I continued to participate in the daily 'drama' to mollify him.   To this day, I still have a large collection of stuffed animals - and have fond memories of the stories we concocted and the names of the characters!  

MY FIRST OFFICIAL PIANO LESSON (not with my mother)

  Since I never studied the piano with anyone except my mother, whose knowledge of music and piano playing were meager at best, it was past time for me to study with a real musician.     Mother inquired around Spokane, and found that Dr.  Moldenhauer was well-known, and ran the Spokane Conservatory, as I mentioned in a previous blog.   So she called and made an appointment for me to meet and audition for him.    I was quite excited at this turn of events, and decided to play Beethoven's Waldstein Sonata.    I was 11 years old at the time.   When he asked me what I would be playing, I answered him.   He became somewhat annoyed at this and said: "No 11-year old girl can possibly play the Waldstein Sonata."   My mother answered in a very frosty tone,  "my daughter can play this piece, and from memory ." And with that, she directed me to start playing it..  which I did.    At the end of the sonata (some 25 minutes later!), Dr. Moldenhauer just stared at me, and said that for the first time in his life, he was speechless!   This was quite true - he told the story many times to various people about that first meeting.    (I often have wished that there had been a tape made of that performance, as I have no idea how it really sounded.)   This sonata is quite a mature work, and requires an abundance of technique and facility, plus very good fingers - all of which I had, without realizing exactly what I did have, or what I was doing.    I was innately very musical, and just played very naturally.   Because I had such a huge musical gift, no teacher ever thought they needed to really teach me HOW to play the piano -HOW to use my fingers, which includes complete finger independence, HOW to make various sounds on the piano, or sophisticated phrasing.   (Most didn't have that knowledge, to be sure.)   I only acquired these skills later when I studied with Sari Biro, the legendary Hungarian pianist, who opened my eyes to the further possibilities of sound from the instrument.    I became a completely different pianist under her tutelage, and worked incessantly to perfect my technique, sound, control,  knowledge of phrasing and musical thought, plus I learned an immense amount of repertoire as well.   (For example, all the Beethoven Sonatas, all the Mozart Sonatas, all the Chopin Etudes, and etc.)
     Before I met her at Indiana University, (where I was studying for my master's degree) I listened to recordings of Vladimir Horowitz, Arturo Beneditto Michelangeli, Dinu Lipatti - entranced by the kinds of beautiful sounds these great pianists could make.    And I didn't hear that in myself.    But I carried around in my head this singing, ringing, gorgeous tone, and was looking desperately to find it.    And I did - in the person of that fabulous artist, Mme. Biro.   When I met her, and she played for me, I broke into tears, because she had THAT SINGING SOUND.   She was a magical being to me; I truly adored her - she was the kindest, most generous person I had ever met in my life.  I moved to San Francisco (her home) in order to study with her further.    I had several lessons per week, and I always practiced as much as possible.   During that time, I worked for an insurance company, (Equitable Life) as a secretary/agent-liason to support myself.  During my lunch hour, I practiced in a nearby music store, where I had rented a piano   I would take my sandwich, munching on it during my practice session!    Then Equitable Life discovered that I was extremely good in math,  and was able to make excellent insurance proposals for the field agents.   Soon I was in charge of the entire fleet of West Coast field agents, and was offered a position as an officer (with a secretary of my own!) in that company.     The salary was very tempting, but I was on a different path, one which they knew nothing about.   I played a big concert in San Francisco, which my Equitable Life colleagues (all men) attended.    Their reaction to my performance and the fact that this young woman in their office was actually an accomplished musician and pianist, was one of amazement.   I will never forget the expressions on their faces afterward.   But that concert made it very easy to explain to everyone why I could not take the position they had offered me.   

MY ORIGINS

Just a few words (or more) about my origins:   My parents were both educators - my father was the district superintendent, and mother  taught later in the high school when my brother and I were about 10 and 12.     They encouraged us to read regularly, but I remember learning how to read notes before I learned to read books.   Mother played the piano (she had popular song books) and she taught me songs to sing when I was age 3.  (She also taught me the names of the notes I was singing, thus I learned how to read notes then.)   Soon I was performing in school programs very often.   Since my father was the school superintendent, there was no question that I be allowed to perform when the opportunity arose.   So I used to sing "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, Silent Night, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, " while sitting in my little rocking chair brought from home - getting up only to place an ornament carefully on the petite tree on stage.   Also "The Teddy Bears Picnic,"  and "Marzie Doats and Doazie Doats" (Mares eat Oats and Does Eat Oats) were other favorites.   I was a big hit, as I sang in a very clear voice and totally on pitch.   When my little brother (2 years younger) reached age 4, he joined me on stage, and we sang duets.    How we both loved performing!   He didn't study music professionally as I did later, (my parents nixed that one, much to his disappointment), but he became a fine bass-baritone, went on to sing light opera, and to this day sings in choral groups and barbershop quartets.  Our parents felt that one musician in the family was enough!   I believe they didn't know how to handle one gifted musician, and certainly didn't relish dealing with two of them.   (I didn't know until recently that they had told my brother that he would, under no circumstances, be studying music - but should concentrate on the sciences, in which he excelled.)   
     When I was between 4 and 5 years old, my mother bought a new piano for herself.   I remember sitting on the dining room table (!) when I saw that piano come into the house, and I immediately fell in love with it - telling mother that "it was going to be MY piano, that I was going to play it, and be really good!"    When I was 6 years old, the band director told my mother I should also play another instrument, such as the clarinet or oboe.   I chose the clarinet, and within a year, could play very well..    So the director placed me into the high school band, and made me first chair of the clarinet section.  He was severely criticized for this decision, so  I was promptly challenged by two of the high school clarinetists, who were annoyed that I had been placed as first chair - and I was only in the first grade!!    However, I proceeded to win the challenge. (This is like a competition, intended to keep people on their toes.)    After that, however, no one questioned my place as first chair!   Nor did they have any remarks about my abilities as by then I had performed at the piano very often, and was considered to be without peer in that town.      (Looking back, I am sure that many of the students in the school must have detested me - as I was this little precocious prodigy, and generally praised to the skies!    Also I got excellent grades, and was at the top of my class!)  The only thing I couldn't do was march with the band in the Lilac parade, as I was much too short!  
     The piano was my first love, however, and I used to practice as many hours as possible.   Mother had to tell me to stop practicing, so I could eat dinner and do whatever homework there was, and then go to bed.    I never had to be told to practice or be supervised - I took to it like a duck to water!     Soon I surpassed my mother's knowledge of music, and since there was no teacher in that town better than she, I just kept learning pieces mother bought for me.    I remember when she brought home the first volume of the Beethoven Piano Sonatas, and also a volume of Mozart Sonatas - and various other pieces.   I was always so excited to practice new music, so I just learned and memorized everything I could, and generally taught myself until age 11 (about 5 years), until we moved to Spokane, Washington.  (I also practiced the clarinet every day as well, and became very proficient on that instrument, studying with the band director who actually did play the clarinet as his first instrument).   
     In Spokane, I met Dr. Hans Moldenhauer, who was Director of the Spokane Conservatory of Music, at the time, with his wife, Rosaleen.   (They were two of the most wonderful people I have ever known, and we remained friends long after I stopped studying with him, until the end of his life.)   Dr. Moldenhauer was a world-renowned musicologist and author ( he wrote many books, including a definitive tome on Anton von Webern).    As a hobby, he also collected manuscripts from everywhere in the world, and accumulated huge archives of material by various composers.    These were all kept in a bank vault in Spokane, until it became necessary to disperse them.   By then they had become very valuable - so that what had started as a hobby, became a very lucrative venture, and a source of income for him.   Various of the archives were placed in a museum in Basel, some went to Yale Music School, and some to the Chicago Institute of Music.    Sometimes he would take me to the vault, where I could peruse these valuable works, and see the originals of I might be playing.    He also insisted that I learn German, and read certain books on music.   I had to keep a list of words I didn't know, and basically read the dictionary!    He was a real scholar, in the truest sense of the word,  and passed on his desire for knowledge  to me.    He was very demanding, but I learned an enormous amount during those years and have always been very grateful for his dedication and care.

To Blog or Not to Blog

This is my very first blog post, so the question was should I do it or not?   I decided to just jump in, and so here we are...  The second question to myself was, shall I use material I am writing for a book of memoirs involving the great artistic legends with whom I have worked, performed, or was associated with in some way or other during my lifetime?   I am still waiting for the answer to that one.