Concert Week

I love this time of year.

Not just because I have (in my part-time teaching schedule) only EIGHT DAYS LEFT of school.

Okay.  That might be part of it.

But I really love concert time. It's so exciting and so stressful.  So many details to plan, information to communicate...tasks to accomplish, loose ends to 'tie,' students to motivate and empower.  But the end result (especially when it exceeds your hopes and expectations) is simply magical.  Watching the excitement and focus and pride reflected in your students eyes... Meeting parents and grandparents and hearing wonderful stories about the impact of music and music education.  Feeling the adrenaline rush as the students look at you full of nervous excitement, bows poised, fingers placed...


...and then that rush of relief and exhaustion when it's all over.

Final rehearsals are happening this week, and so far, all is going well. Maybe too well, actually.  And strangely, I'm not that nervous or stressed?  Maybe I should worry about that.  I probably should.

Anyways, if you'd like to see nearly 75 second graders playing Mozart on the violin on one stage....
Or just under 50 third graders performing together on violins, violas and cellos...

...you will not want to miss this Thursday night (May 10) at the North Muskegon FLEX center.
6:00 PM Second Grade Violin Concert
7:00 PM Third Grade Strings Concert

And next week, the Fourth and Fifth Grade String Ensembles will perform some Blues, Beethoven, Irish Fiddle tunes, Dvorak melodies, music from Handel's "Royal Fireworks Music," and more.
Thursday, May 17 at 6:30 PM.

I love my job.

In second grade violin class...

...we've been spending our first few weeks "getting to know the violin" and "getting to know the bow"...separately.

We know the parts of the violin and how to put it away in its case and how to take good care of it. We practice holding the violin in shoulder position...plucking the strings, learning their names and sounds.

We've also met the bow. We've practiced carefully removing the bow from the case, tightening and loosening the horse hair, rosining the bow. We've even practiced holding the bow correctly.

But every time I see a group of second graders in the hall or at recess they ask, "Do we get to play them together yet? Can the violin and bow meet now???"

This week, one second grader raised his hand and said thoughtfully (and innocently, I should add),

"Mrs. Corbin, even though the bow and the violin have

never even met,

they've been sleeping together all this time!"

a great conversation from long ago...

...suddenly remembered.

In the hallway, a strings student, came running up to me with a hug.

student: "Oh hi Mrs. Corbin!! I love strings class!"

me: "I do too, isn't it fun? I love that I get to be a music teacher."

student: "yes....you are pretty lucky...but what are you going to do when you grow up?"

Musical spontaneity remains

when children are not ‘redirected’ or ‘hampered’

by adult intervention.

They may not always need

our ‘approval’ or guidance

for making their music.

(paraphrased from the book "Songs in Their Heads" by Patricia Campbell)

Take out the first word 'musical' and insert...artistic, playful, creative, intellectual, social, linguistic, etc...

and the statement remains as convicting (at least for me.)

Though I'm a big fan of approval in general (guidance too!), I love this reminder of how gentle, purposeful, and careful must be the work of parenting and teaching.

One more reason I teach and make music...

...lastly and most importantly, I believe, music and music education help develop a child’s sense of being, her consciousness, her ‘self.’ Madeleine L’Engle, who is best known as the award-winning author of A Wrinkle in Time, believes that one of the greatest responsibilities of educators is “to give the child a self.” Instead, educators, parents, coaches, administrators, and counselors often struggle to give them something drastically different (and I would argue, inferior), a ‘self-image.’ Is our culture’s preoccupation with giving children a ‘self-image’ a good idea?
By giving a child a self instead, we are not giving them “something static, tied up in a pretty parcel and handed to the child, finished and complete. A self is always becoming. Being does mean becoming.” (Madeleine L’Engle, A Circle of Quiet)
This concept of ‘becoming,’ of having a self, of consciousness is a defining human capability. Overcoming the selfish self, the self-image, means that we are becoming more real, more human, more loving. We become more conscious and less self-conscious. Consciousness is authentic sensitivity, awareness of being. Self-consciousness is superficial, affected, and selfish. L’Engle explores this truth and its connection to creativity in A Circle of Quiet (one of my favorites of her non-fiction), “So, when we wholly concentrate, like a child in play, or an artist at work, then we share in the act of creating. We not only escape time, we also escape our self-conscious selves.”

Some reasons I teach and make music.

...the inherent and unique ability of music to bring order to consciousness for those who engage in ‘musicing.’ Just as writing helps bring clarity and order to my thinking...music also helps clarify my thoughts and feelings which cannot be expressed with words.
...music provides opportunities to experience “flow” (motivation which occurs when exciting challenges are perfectly balanced to match and extend ability) which spurs self-growth and self-knowledge.
...the distinctive power of music to “refine and extend” our ability to feel. By intensifying our felt experiences, music allows us to deepen our connections with the world around us, to broaden our capacity to love, and ultimately to strengthen and enrich our humanity.

I think these ideas capture a small (and somewhat cloudy) glimpse of the true masterpiece (the 'big picture') of the way that we were created to create...like our Creator so generously intended.

'Your eyes smile peace.'

Sonnet XIX - Silent Noon

Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass,
The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace.
The pasture gleams and glooms
'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.

All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,
Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.
Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.

Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky:—
So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above,

Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti
musical setting by Ralph Vaughan Williams

I wish I could write more here. But I'm trying to type a critical analysis of this beautiful sonnet/art song.

Tonight, our 'nest' is not quite so romantic. But still, this 'hour is dropt to us from above.' And I guess, in a way, we're enjoying our 'two-fold silent song of love.'

Happy seventh anniversary, baby.
I love you.

Harmony

Something I love from today's advent prayer...

Lord, let us seek harmony in our lives as the angels did when they announced the Christ Child's birth in perfect praise. Amen.

My new favorite advent 'calendar'...our Jesse Tree. Each day, we add a new piece of The Story to our Jesse Tree, another story of God's Rescue Plan. We start with the explanation of 'the Root of Jesse'....and the story of Jesse and his son David, and then going all the way back to Adam and Eve in the garden, Noah, Abraham,....all leading up to The Rescuer.

This is the unfinished version... a picture I took last week. (Now it's hanging up on our wall)

An evening of organ music and homemade apple pie

I made apple pie this week....

Some of it was shared with Grandma & Grandpa...


(Maya LOVED Grandma Marge's organ)




...and some of it, was enjoyed later at home.

you should read these...

amazing violin stories.

Today felt good.

It was one of those days that was filled with moments of certainty... that what I'm doing is right. That I will survive, even grow, accomplish something...amidst the blurr and chaos that I sometimes feel exhausted by.

Today, all the daily things...the mundane tasks (dressing girls, changing diapers, washing dishes, making coffee, packing lunches, pushing my teaching cart, tuning violins, taking attendance, focusing students, starting dinner, cleaning dinner, washing dishes, changing diapers, clearing clutter), ...didn't feel quite as futile as they sometimes can.

Despite finding out 1 minute before my first class started that because of a funeral, I wouldn't have a classroom or a piano for my choir and despite having a second grader leave music class with a slightly bloody, fat lip...as a result of a new 'circle game' we tried (something like duck-duck-goose), my students seemed brilliant, charming, surprising, attentive (mostly) and sweet.

Most days, at least once, I find myself grumbling inwardly (or outwardly) about the piles of laundry that get cleared...for about an hour before piling up again; about the dishes that seem so sparkling clean and neatly stacked until the next meal time; or the crumb covered, yogurt smeared floor that sometimes gets swept 3 times a day or more and still looks messy.

Sometimes the joy, the gratitude that I have for my rich life gets clouded so easily, so quickly.
But today it was inexplicably easy to just enjoy the smiles, the silly laughter, the squeals to be chased, the focused and earnest but (honestly quite awful sounding) ensemble playing in strings today, the middle schoolers who 'wrote' and performed a five part improvisational round-song, the husband who entertained us all with "YOU MUST PAY THE RENT...." over our chile dinner, and who swept the corn bread crumbs and vacuumed the living room and the steps.

No particularly obvious reason for this day of clarity, contentment, and balance. But I'll take it.

And I'll try to remember it, because...

...tomorrow will probably be different. Things do fall apart.

could you play the cello?

try it here

Thanks cousin Christine.

Just in case I didn't tell you...

...and you are one who might want to know.

My student violin, viola, and cello recital is next Thursday, March 13th at 6:00 PM in the Rotunda at Calvary.

Maya won't be performing this time... but she does have three talented cousins who will be (Emma, Liam, and Samantha).

You are welcome to come and listen. It should be (mostly) enjoyable.

A fragmented post

One of the happiest moments of my day...



Watch more of Maya's violin lesson here.

Some other happy moments...

Arriving to work early after an eerily calm morning... without rushing. Early enough even for a rare visit to the Starbucks drive-through.

A couple of my little violinist girls were patient enough (and happened to have good enough timing) to feel some surprisingly powerful Sophia/Ian kicks while I tuned their violins.

Hearing my beginner strings class celebrate so enthusiastically as we attempted each new song in their books today.... "Pepperoni Pizza," "Hot Cross Buns," and "Au Claire de la lune."

Dinner at 6:00 with Ryan and Maya...and the sun was STILL shining. hope. spring.

Cookie dough ice cream.




For me today, life and beautiful things kept happening...but part of me felt like everything should stop. Mostly, it was a very heavy day. And I haven't really allowed myself to feel the full weight of it. It just isn't something my mind can process, but I'm aching still.

My school day ended in a circle on the floor with my fourth graders, listening to another teacher carefully explain to the class why a Grandma had come to get one of their friends earlier in the day. She came to bring her home and to tell her that her father (who had just celebrated his 41st birthday with her yesterday) suddenly, without any explanation (so far) or any warning had died this morning at work.

As Ryan and I sang and tucked our Maya into her bed tonight, I couldn't stop thinking of my little red-headed girl who won't have her daddy tuck her in tonight or ever. And who never imagined that this could be what today would bring.

I love this little girl so much. Maya adores her too. She plays with her while she waits for her violin lesson to start each week. I will miss hearing her play Boccherini's famous Minuet tomorrow. I hope she is sleeping now.

Let There be Peace on Earth...

The months of November and December bring so much anticipation and happiness. I love singing Christmas songs with my students; decorating my house with warm lights, gold ribbon, and deep red cranberries. This time of year also gives me an excuse to spend extra time (and money--which is also fun) thinking about the people I love and trying to find thoughtful gifts to show them how much they are known and loved. I'm feeling childishly silly anticipating my brother's family coming to stay in our new house with us, my parents' house filled with many of the people I love most, all of the Corbins sitting around the Christmas tree in our red flannel pajamas...awaiting our presents and our Christmas morning feast, Bing Crosby singing 'White Christmas', burning candles, Lynn's cookies, Marianne's Finnish Coffee bread, wrapping paper and ribbon....

And this year, Christmas has also brought new joys...telling Maya the story of baby Jesus over and over again as we open the doors of our 'house' (Advent Calendar) each day, hearing her walk around the house talking about the 'babies'(always plural) the 'sheep' and the 'shep-sheps' the 'WISE' and 'Mare-mare' and 'Jose.' She particularly loves the Angel that is known as 'Do-Do' (also the name of her beloved Grandma Go-Go). I think the angel in our nativity set got her name for the song she
is always singing...."Glo----------ria, in excelsis deo...' Maya has also picked up on the Santa/ St. Nicholas Christmas themes....marching around yelling 'HO, HO, HO, Merr--.' She loves filling in the blanks as we read...
"Twas the night before __________,
and all through the ________,
not a creature was stirring,
not even a _______!
The _______ were hung
by the ______ (she thinks it's 'chin' and she points to own) with care..."

But November and December also bring a lot of chaos, stress, and extra work. I'm right in the middle of the long string of Christmas performances (and this year, I also added an overnight Choir trip last week).
This week will bring the last of the performances... Thursday night, my Elementary choir will sing, the strings will play prelude in the hall, and my High School and Middle School Choirs will perform. Saturday, the West Shore Symphony's Home for the Holidays matinee concert at the Frauenthal will end the chaos for me.

And then, peace?

There's other chaos too. Deeper, darker worries. People. I guess relationships and communities hold far greater destructive and wounding potential than responsibilities and full calendars could ever hold. Those work 'stresses' seem light and silly this year... in the shadow of so much loss and pain and disappointment around me.

But I do have hope. I think that's the point of Advent. Waiting, feeling the depth of our need. Recognizing the hopelessness... and still hoping because of Jesus.

our holidays are full of music...

Sometimes, the Rudds may ever so slightly resemble that family from the movie, 'Dan in Real Life.'

Okay, maybe the resemblance isn't all that slight....so some of the in-laws are saying....

I'm not suggesting that we actually have 'shows' at every holiday, or that we all sometimes might just break out into 4, 5, & 6 part 'harmony' by the piano....

It might happen though.

Either way, here are some of the most beautiful musical moments from the holidays so far (Rudd and Corbins alike)...

Rushing wind and Chopin...

...are serenading my ears as Maya sleeps in the next room.

Outside my window I see massive trees, brushed with yellow, bending in the wind...orange leaves swirling around, and swarms of thrill-seeking birds hovering and diving on the powerful currents.

My pumpkin spice candle has been burning all day...and the laundry is slowly getting cleaned and put away.

This is what I imagine, when I long to just *be* at home.

Somehow the combination of unstructured unhurried time with Maya and a few hours by myself, a tiny bit of productivity, music, and a gray fall sky seems therapeutic. And for a little while, I don't feel worried about the future, disappointed with my inadequacies, or sad about the brokenness and pain that usually seem to lurk everywhere. I feel hopeful and content. Grateful.

This is what I long for while I rush through my days, moving from one responsibility to the next. This kind of peaceful alone-ness...and also the laughter of Maya when she's being tickled, her happy singing, and her 101 requests for a another "sto-to" to be read. (Goodnight Gorilla has been the favorite this week.)

This...and waking up without an alarm, talking and laughing with Ryan, feeling no urgency to get out of bed and face the day.


A few more treasured moments from our fall...

i played a Stradivarius yesterday.

I will never forget it.

It felt and sounded as exquisite as any 2.2 million dollar violin should.

a perfect Christmas concert for children...

Horse drawn sleigh rides through the downtown,
Christmas ornament decorating,
the West Shore Symphony Orchestra,
orchestra conducting lessons from a real conductor,
a chance to try all the musical instruments of the symphony...an "Instrument Petting Zoo!"



The West Shore Symphony Orchestra's "Family Traditions" pre-concert event
1:00-2:45pm, before the 3:00pm Matinee on Dec. 16th
Specially priced main floor reserved seating and holiday activities for the whole family!




Special Matinee Offer...
BUY ONE TICKET,
GET ONE FREE!
ALL REMAINING
REGULAR PRICED SEATS,
MATINEE ONLY!

For more information call 231-726-3231 or visit www.wsso.org.
Tickets are available at the Frauenthal Box Office, or at Star Tickets Plus Outlets, online at www.starticketsplus.com, or by calling 800-585-3737. Ticket prices are $14-$41 with discounts for students, seniors, and groups.

Elgar's Cello Concerto and Madeleine L'Engle...

...breathed life back into me.

Also...I remembered that I am loved.

The emptiness doesn't seem quite so thick today.


************************************************

"When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable."

Madeleine L'Engle, "Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art"