Outside Perspective

i heart rachmaninoff. - Laura Miller

I can remember looking at the size of my dad's hands when I was younger, particularly as he played the piano.  They seemed huge to me.  Huge!  I hope mine can stretch that far on the keys someday, I used to think.  When I got a little older, I learned what a gift it was to have long fingers, just like my father.  It made some pieces easier to play.  Dad used to tell me, "Big hands are great for playing Rachmaninoff."  He was right.  Rachmaninoff was known for his huge hands, which, I'd guess, prompted him to create some of the most difficult (but beautiful) piano pieces the world has known.  How on earth is someone supposed to play this stuff? I wondered.  It's too hard!  My fingers can't reach! 

Practice, practice, practice.

To this day, I still can't play a full Rachmaninoff piano piece.  I guess it really takes more than practice.  It takes a gift.  And last weekend's soloist has that gift.

Pianist Simon Trpceski has what I want:  a tremendous ability and grace to play Rachmaninoff.  Watching and listening to him play Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini was thrilling.  Not only did his fingers dance on the keyboard, but his whole demeanor seemed genuinely happy and at ease.  And his body got into it, too (which is always the case with Rachmaninoff--the composer demands it of you).  The Rhapsody is an absolutely beautiful piece, filled with so many melodies and runs and themes that just grab at your core.  In fact, knowing that piece was on the program was the main reason I came to the concert that night.  My dad and I are huge Rachmaninoff fans, and I knew I didn't want to miss that Rhapsody.

And I'm glad I didn't.

feeling blue for Rhapsody in Blue - Laura Miller

Rhapsody in Blue.  It's my Dad's and my song.  It's one of the first real piano pieces I learned when I was a teenager.  It reminds me of my Nana.  I sort of feel like it's mine.  It's the concert I wanted to see this season no.matter.what.  I talked about it at work all week to anyone who would listen.  ("I'm going to hear Gabriela Montero play on Friday night.  She was the pianist at Obama's inauguration!  Isn't the cool?"  My student aides feigned excitement.)

I did not want to miss it. 

However.

It is with great sadness that I announce that I never made it to the symphony last night.  Despite leaving Shadyside at 7:10 p.m., Pittsburgh city traffic did not allow me to make it to downtown until 7:45 p.m.  I dropped my boyfriend Ross off in front of Heinz Hall so he could get our tickets from Will Call.  Traffic was insane. Bumber-to-bumper everywhere I looked.  But, I said a prayer to my guardian angel and proceeded, inch by inch, towards the parking garage.

And then, no parking.  Anywhere.  I got a little snippy with the gentleman standing outside of the parking garage by Heinz Hall.  His "Prepaid Parking Tickets and Leases Only" sign only added to my already stressed out demeanor.  "Is it going to be like this every weekend?  Because I almost missed an event a few weeks ago because of the same thing."  His response?  "Only when there are four shows and a Steelers rally, Miss."

Grrr.

At 7:53 p.m. I called Ross on his cell phone.  "Forget it," I said. "There's no way I'm going to be able to get through this traffic and down to the garage by the Benedum, if there even IS a parking spot there," before everything starts.  And I do not want to arrive after the first piece.  Please have them release our tickets at Will Call.  I'll swing around and pick you up in a few minutes."

My heart? Broken.  Disappointment is part of life, I realize this.  But this one hit a little harder than I'd expected.  Music is so, so important to me.  Especially certain pieces.  My dad and I have this really special bond over some of those pieces.  And I wanted so badly to feel his presence at the concert Friday night, to call him Saturday to tell him how amazing it was, how I thought of him, and how much Nana would have loved it if she'd still been alive to sit there in the audience too.  Music is that powerful.  That important.  That meaningful.  Sure, there's another performance of it Sunday, but with my graduate coursework being so heavy this semester, I can't afford to give up an entire afternoon.

Luckily, Ross was sweet enough to propose what we like to call a "Choice B"--another option in the event that things go wrong, disappointments occur, or things don't happen the way we'd hoped.  Our "Choice B" eventually put a smile on my face: drinks with three of our closest friends at one of our favorite places in Shadyside.  I was, I admit, a little pouty for the first hour after we left downtown, but I realized that there was still a silver lining: music never goes away.  Rhapsody in Blue will always be Rhapsody in Blue.  That piece, whether I hear it on WQED, live at Heinz Hall, or on my iTunes, will always be there for me.  

Next time we'll just take the bus.

~Laura 

oh, Mozart. how I love thee. - Laura Miller

I’m so sorry I’ve been out of the loop for the past few weeks, dear readers.  I was unable to attend one of the weekend concerts a few weeks ago, and then the most recent concert I attended (Oct. 17) had me writing for the PSO’s newsletter.  And with work and graduate school (and an upcoming conference this week in Georgia, at which I’m presenting some of my scholarly work), I’ve been swamped.  Luckily, my head came above water this past weekend, and I was able to immerse myself in the beautiful music of the PSO instead of books on theatre in 18^th-century Britain.  Change is good every once in a while, right?  *wink*

Saturday night’s concert was extra special for me: I’ve been an avid Mozart fan for, oh, what seems like ages.  I wrote a 40-page research paper about him when I was a sophomore in high school, and I fell in love with the movie Amadeus the first time I saw it fifteen years ago.  Having studied piano since I was six years old, Mozart has been a significant part of my musical education and musical life.  His birthday falls one day before mine, too.  Needless to say, I love him.

 

So to be able to hear his work performed by a soloist was a thrill.  It always is.  I’ve heard many soloists perform Mozart before, and each time I feel as though I’m surrounded by the warmth of an old friend.  That’s Mozart to me: that comforting presence that has never failed me, always lifted me up, inspired me, challenged me.  And Jonathan Biss?  He channeled that presence beautifully.

 

I always enjoy watching professional pianists perform.  There was a point in my life when I thought I might be one of those pianists.  I studied piano very seriously until I was about 17, visiting Juilliard and dreaming of practicing on a Steinway every single day within its walls.  But fear got the best of me, and I chickened out.  I realized that kind of life just wasn’t for me.  So when I saw Jonathan Biss and heard him play Mozart so beautifully, I decided to live vicariously through him in those moments.  He was fantastic.  So elegant in his playing, so smooth.  At one point when he had a break from the piece and the orchestra was featured during a particular passage, he lightly ran his hand across the keys, as if he was reminding his 88 friends that he was still there and would intimately return to them soon.  It was such a beautiful moment, and I was reminded just how powerful the connection to music and an instrument can be.  I know.  I’ve felt it.

 

And Strauss?  Holy moly.  Alpine Symphony has to be one of the most magnificent works I’ve ever heard.  And Saturday night was my first exposure to it.  The way Strauss tells the story of hiking through the glorious mountains, experiencing nature, and enduring struggle—incredible.  I was transfixed.  I shut my eyes and felt myself swept away with the music.  And when I opened my eyes the pure visual rush I experienced in seeing the entire stage packed with musicians and instruments—including a tremendous wind machine and thunder clap contraption hanging from the ceiling—made the piece all the more powerful.  I wish I could find words to do it justice, but I’m failing miserably at this point. 

 

Saturday night was an amazing concert.  I realize that’s kind of a blanket statement, but it’s the truth.  And it’s my hope that you’ve been to hear the PSO at some point this season.  Really.  You won’t be disappointed. 

kids these days... - Laura Miller

Being a graduate student AND a full-time employee at a university can be both inspiring and frustrating.  I'm constantly surrounded by information and knowledge and books and all manner of wonderful things associated with learning: one of my colleagues just published a book he's been working on and it's gotten very favorable reviews; a favorite professor of mine is off giving papers at conferences left and right; I've been given the opportunity to present my own work at a conference in Georgia next month.  These things make me feel invigorated and blessed.  But I'm also surrounded by bits and pieces of university life that leave my heart frowning:  I overhear bits of conversations in elevators that include the word "like" more than a dozen times; I help out in classes sometimes and I see students slouched in their seats, looking completely and utterly Uninterested In Being There; students come to my office asking for "that book thing" that their teachers asked them to buy, but they can't remember the names of the courses they're in or even the names of the professors who are teaching them.  In those moments, I ask myself, "Why are they even here in college?"

And then the PSO comes into the picture.  And my heart smiles again.

oh, pso. i think i love you. - Laura Miller

Walking into Heinz Hall on Saturday night was overwhelming.  It was packed--just the way I like it.  How exciting to see such a wonderful crowd on opening weekend!  Due to the plethora of activities taking place in the Cultural District that evening (and the subsequent traffic jams such activities cause), my boyfriend Ross and I arrived just moments before the first piece.  We hurried into our seats in Family Circle (thank you Kevin!!) and settled in for the night's sounds and sensations.

i'm here! i swear! i'm here! - Laura Miller

Houston Pittsburgh, we have had a problem.

Dear readers!  Oh, how I've missed you!  I am so sorry for taking so long to post, but I was the unfortunate recipient of Technological Issues with my blog account this past weekend, which prohibited me from being able to tell you all the juicy details of my hot date with the Symphony this past Friday.  I'm happy to report that All Is Fine now, with the help of Kevin DeLuca from the PSO.  Hooray for Kevin!

i have a date - Laura Miller

I have a hot date tonight.  With the PSO.  I already know what I'm wearing:

A Huge Grin.

When I heard that I was selected to join a wonderful community of bloggers and provide an "outside" voice for this season's concerts, I couldn't stop smiling.  (Hence, the reason my wardrobe is ready to go for tonight.)  I'm honored.  Overjoyed.  Excited.  And do you know why?  Not just because I love the PSO (I've had a crush on them since the age of fourteen.  I'm thirty years old now.) and All Things Music, but because I get to share that love with you.  Yes.  YOU.