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In June 2016, the Piano Dao blog published my interview with pianist and composer Tobin Mueller in which he speaks frankly, at times painfully so, about his chronic illness and its effect on his creative life. Now, in this guest post, Tobin Mueller discusses how the music of Chopin in particular has enabled him to transcend the limitations of his illness…..

 

Something unexpected happened on my way to the future: my body got older much faster than my brain. Yet, I can say with certainty, I am enjoying my life as much as ever, albeit with altered definitions for expressions like “work day”, “feeling good” and “ambition.”

My latest recording celebrates the transcendence of illness and limitations. “Of Two Minds: The Music of Frédéric Chopin and Tobin Mueller” is not just an homage to Chopin, but a tribute to music that transforms and aspires. Disc 1 is made up of jazz-inflected interpretations of Chopin; Disc 2 includes three original piano sonatas based on his Preludes. (It’s a double album.)

Most people sense in music an extension of themselves. Music both reminds us and inspires us. It reminds us of a glorious past while making us ponder our future potential. Chopin, however, does something more. He doesn’t just remind me how great music can be, but how the act of creating music can eclipse pain, weariness, melancholy and doubt.

 

 

My musical conversations with Chopin proved to be the most satisfying I’ve had in recent years. Perhaps it’s because his music incorporates jazz-like changes and a constant sense of improvisation. If I’m being honest, however, our shared history of health issues may have more to do with it.

As you know, Chopin suffered from tuberculosis his entire life. In addition, his sister contracted it at age 11 and died of it at age 15. I’ve often considered how his illnesses (he had more than one) affected his music. In my youth, I had every malady a child could contract, including 5 bouts of different measles, three of pneumonia, 7 weeks lost to mononucleosis [glandular fever], etc. Yet, instead of it being a burden, I loved those afternoons at home with my mother, not having to attend school. She let me drink soda when I had a fever, something not allowed otherwise. She’d talk in ways she never would when the family was around. Even hospital stays were more like spiritual retreats than impositions. (I had 6 collapsed lungs and several surgeries as a teenager.) Those moments apart from the “normal” world became nostalgic sanctuaries that fed my creative imagination.

Composers, writers and musicians need to spend a lot of time alone to nurture and perfect their craft. My illnesses provided me with a quiet space to practice productive solitude.

In addition, my sister died after a 10-year illness from A1AD complications. Seven years ago, I learned that I shared this same condition. I was 15 when she died. Her death affected my entire creative life. (Her dying wish was that I learn to play Joni Mitchell’s “River” and to understand the music theory behind it. This may seem peculiar, but ours was a very musical family and my sister tried to pass along as much of her musical expertise as she could.) Did the death of Chopin’s sister (again, from a shared illness) affect his creative life, as well?

On a conceptual level, almost all of my music tries to lend meaning to mortality. Mortality frames beauty, is an impetus to cherish, ironically opens the door to the sublime. The vast majority of my music celebrates substantive meaning: life is fragile, sharing life in an honest way is how to conjure joy. Even my fast songs tend to end softly, like an amen. Even my slow songs tend to have a discordant moment of unexpected drama tucked somewhere in the middle, as a reminder. I can’t help but find these same sentiments in Chopin’s music, these same celebrations.

Unlike Chopin, most of my adult life was conducted in good health. I had almost infinite energy, a huge reservoir of adrenaline. I viewed bouts of illness as mere interruptions. (Chopin probably felt the same way in his 20s.) There was an effortlessness to much of what I accomplished. But after 9/11, I began to develop omnipresent lung issues. I dismissed them as a result of volunteering at Ground Zero, recalling the old adage “No good deed goes unpunished.” By 2010, however, I coughed continually. I had to stop performing. When chest pains became too intrusive, when I had trouble simply breathing, my wife finally convinced me to go to a doctor. I was diagnosed with A1AD. The condition was exacerbated by 9/11 exposure, but it was a ticking time bomb, regardless.

The specialist who delivered the diagnosis gave me 8-12 years to live. I was 54.

Of course, old musicians never die, they just go bar to bar. Old composers just decompose. But, then again, some composers never die, they just become music.

A1AD (Alpha-1 Antitrypsin Deficiency) occurs because of a genetic mutation. This mutated gene results in a deficiency of proteins that mitigate swelling, bolster immunity, and do a whole host of other beneficial things. In place of these necessary proteins, my body creates mutated ones, some of which can be harmful. (These harmful proteins are what killed my sister 45 years ago. Her liver failed, over time, trying process them.) This was why I was always sick as a kid, why I’ve had a sinus infection for 30 years, why I am prone to flu and pneumonia. This is also why my lung tissue, joints and nerve fibers swell up (and fail to un-swell in a timely manner), triggered by stress, diet, or repetitive activities like playing the piano.

Stress is my main enemy. Here’s a good story to illustrate: I was asked to write a song about an Iraq War veteran. To get myself in the mood, I turned to my favorite Vietnam Era tune for inspiration: “Goodnight Saigon” by Billy Joel. (It’s a remarkable example of songwriting and creative production.) As the song reached its third verse, I quietly began crying, filled as I was with memories, loss, heartache. When the final chorus kicked in, what had been a happy drinking lyric transformed into a full-on comrades-in-arms oath of inevitable destruction, “And we all go down together”… Tears flowed from my eyes; my nose started to run. Suddenly, I could barely breath. My lungs had swollen so rapidly it was as if I had induced pneumonia in a matter of minutes. It was terrifying.

When I got to the doctors and explained what happened, he simply said, “Don’t cry anymore.” So, I avoid crying, along with many other things…

I avoid the stress of directing, live performance, traveling alone. I avoid staying up late, practicing too long, juggling too many thoughts at once. I avoid encounters with stressful people, stressful deadlines, stressful exercise. I avoid red wine, air that has particulates in it, sounds that are too loud.

In short, I’ve changed my entire life. I no longer live in Manhattan. I’m semi-retired. I plan my schedule to accommodate rest times, pill times, neti pot times. I reassessed every goal, every daily and long-term process in the context of short term health. My “work day” has decreased from 16 hours to 6, usually with a nap wedged in there somewhere. “Feeling good” now means managing pain so that it doesn’t suppress minimal activity. “Ambition” no longer includes dreams of mounting a show on Broadway or performing at The Garden; I just want to record as much as I can before I can’t.

Changing my life has not been a bad thing. On the contrary, creating an “Act 2” is like being able to live yet another life. I’ve already done the over-busy workaholic always-on-the-move social whirlwind thing. Having time to read again, to listen to other people’s music, to cook at leisure, all these are quality of life increases. I don’t mind having a “simplified” social calendar. I like being able to ignore Facebook guilt-free. I embrace going to bed early and maybe watching an old film. I love sitting in the yard and listening to songbirds…a healthy relaxation as opposed to an irresponsible use of time. I savor walking along Long Island Sound, breathing deeply the salt air, thinking this is exactly what the doctor ordered. When I am able to practice at the piano, I feel blessed, no longer compelled for reasons that have more to do with expectations than fulfillment.

The funny thing is, I’m as productive as ever. In many ways, having greater calm in my life has equipped me with the space to enjoy each new idea. Without rushing about, I am content to relish. And I am writing more music per year than I did twenty years ago.

Bending my life to consequences of illness has made my music more personal than before. It’s not just that I’m not writing for characters in a musical. I’m writing for myself in a different way, to become the music I imagine represents my spirit. It’s yet another reason I was drawn to Chopin.

His music is profoundly personal, even when it demonstrates virtuoso techniques. Everything he wrote comes across as private expression, an aural diary. There is a revolutionary amount of spontaneity in his music. Chopin provided me license to explore these aspects of my music without apology, with happy abandoned.

And then there is his relationship with George Sand.

The intersection of illness and music became more important as I read through the writings of George Sand. She, above everyone, understood Chopin’s frailty. She protected his genius by protecting his health. Although she was seen as “vulgar” and almost dangerously modern in her mannerisms and beliefs, Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin (George Sand’s real name) proved to be his most nourishing friend and most influential love. He called her his “angel.” I consider my wife, Suzanne, to be my angel. Without question, her devotion to my health has nourished my music. I love this parallel with Chopin. George Sand not only nursed him, she cherished his innocent elegance (unique among the Bad Boys of the Romantics). Sand worried that “his sensibility is too finely wrought, too exquisite, too perfect to survive for long.” Suzanne has said very similar things about my innocence and openness, traits that become more precarious with age.

Chopin’s ‘shyness’ may well have been a mechanism required to preserve himself and, above all, protect his art. The reserve and distance Chopin maintained between himself and the world may well be explained within the context of his limited energy and worrisome health. His music is perfectly suited for intimate settings; small salon performances also suited his state of health. Indeed, my music has evolved since I’ve had to give up live performing. Recording alone in the darkened studio, often with an elbow or wrist brace to battle nerve pain, deters me from playing loud passages or extended runs. So, I simply avoid writing them.

I now play to an audience of one: the single listener whom I imagine is sitting in headphones. I write extremely personal music both because I find it most satisfying and because that is now my only mode of communication.

I always experience a sense of magic when I sit at the piano – a very old magic that, paradoxically, makes me feel very young. Adrenaline and serotonin may have something to do with it, but there truly seems to be a mystical element.  To be a part of the miracle of music-as-unbroken-mutual-inspiration is an ongoing thrill. Was it my imagination that Chopin sat next to me as I rearranged his work, balancing my eagerness to pay tribute with my desire for self-expression?

Interpreting Chopin was not just a privilege, but an opportunity to grow and commune. After “Of Two Minds,” I feel as if Chopin’s music has woven itself into my own, even as our lives are now somehow linked. I realize this is a surreal internal fiction, but it feels no less real. Above all, I hope you hear it in my music. The piano binds so many of us. Are not all musicians connected by a magic we cannot explain?

― Tobin Mueller, December 2016

 

Tobin Mueller

 

Tobin Mueller has composed and performed musical theatre, jazz, progressive rock, pop, classical, film scores and children’s music. He has written fiction, political essays, poetry, domestic humor and video games. He has worked with Dave Brubeck, Ron Carter, Michael Hedges, Donny McCaslin, Maynard Ferguson, Jon Anderson (from Yes) and Brian Welch (“Head” from Korn), among others. As a Dramatist Guild playwright and composer, he’s had six musicals produced in Manhattan. In 1994, he was inducted into the United Nations’ Global 500 Roll of Honor, in London, for his work with youths and the environment.

 

Mueller’s official website www.tobinmueller.com is an excellent resource to sample his music. His recordings are available on CDBaby, iTunes, Amazon and Spotify.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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organ

The splendid venue that is St John’s Smith Square, a beautiful eighteenth century church nestled amongst government offices and ministries in the heart of Westminster, is fast becoming one of my favourite London concert spaces – not just for piano music but also chamber, orchestral and choral music. I’ve even performed there myself, albeit a mere “15 minutes of fame” as part of St John’s 24-hour Music Marathon! And since September, I’ve been attending the monthly lunchtime organ recitals through which I’ve discovered a real liking for organ music. This is in part down to a friend of mine who adores Bach’s magnificent Passacaglia in C minor, BWV582 (which we heard in November, performed by Peter Stevens), but who would probably never go to an organ concert without my instigation.

The organ at St John’s is not original, though the main organ case, built by Jordan, Byfield and Bridges in 1734 acquired from St George’s church in Great Yarmouth, compliments the wonderful Baroque interior. It was installed in St John’s in 1972, and a new, larger organ case was built to accommodate the new instrument, built by Orgelbau Klais Bonn, which offers an enormous range of musical colour and versatility, suitable for repertoire from the German Baroque to high romanticism and contemporary repertoire.

There’s something really special about hearing an organ being played in the grandeur of a ecclesiastical building such as St John’s Smith Square. Whatever one’s religious, or otherwise leanings, one cannot help but be uplifted and awestruck by the volume, range and variety of sounds, the way those deep base notes swell and vibrate in the pit of the stomach, and the soaring sounds of the upper registers.

The organ series at St John’s Smith Square, now in its fifth edition, offers a broad range of performers and music, including organ favourites such as Bach’s ‘Ein Feste Burg’ and works by the leading composers for organ, Louis Vierne and Olivier Messiaen. In fact, it was the concerts featuring works by Messiaen which first drew me to this series, and David Titterington’s profound, vibrant and intensely absorbing performance of ‘La Nativité du Seigneur’ on 15 December was an example of the exceptional quality of these concerts (David has also recorded this work for Hyperion). Earlier in the season, we enjoyed a wonderfully mixed programme of music by Mendelssohn, Bach, Wesley and Messiaen by Jennifer Bate (a world authority on the organ music of Messiaen). The concert also included a work by Jennifer Bate herself, her ‘Variations on a Gregorian Theme’.

Seating is unreserved in St John’s for these concerts so one can choose to sit almost beneath the instrument if one so desires. A camera in the organ loft projects onto a screen on the stage, offering a fascinating glimpse of the organist at work (I had no idea it was so energetic, with hands and feet engaged for much of the time!). From the point of view of the pianist’s technique, I found it particularly interesting to see how the organist achieves legato effects, given the technical demands and mechanics of the instrument. And the sheer physical sound of the instrument, its richness, textural variety and surprising delicacy, has been quite unexpected, and something I look forward to exploring further at future concerts.

Monthly lunchtime organ recitals continue at St John’s Smith Square until June. Full details here

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Who or what inspired you to take up the piano and pursue a career in music?

My mother was the one to introduce me to the wonderful world of music. I grew up in communist Romania, where kids didn’t have piano lessons as an after school thing but my Mum saved up lots of money and bought a beautiful mahogany upright. I got into the specialist music school in Iasi age 7 and had my debut with an orchestra 2 years later with Mozart D major concerto. I remember walking on stage, surrounded by adults, tripping over, conductor panicking, music stands falling, scores flying all over the place. My mum freezing in the first row. But I stood up, smiling and loved every single second of that performance. I came out and said “I want to become a concert pianist!”. I feel blessed to have had very encouraging people in my life, who believed in me and gave me a chance. I learnt from a very early age that hard work will always take you a long way. I don’t come from a musical family, therefore I didn’t have any expectation on how things should go. I didn’t set myself a target, I simply followed my intuition, learning from every situation and felt grateful for every opportunity that came my way. And the same as my falling, I learnt I can always stand back up and keep going.

Who or what have been the most important influences on your musical life and career?

My teachers have had the greatest influence on me, starting with my high-school teachers in Romania, to the late Mark Ray, Nelson Goerner, Alexander Melnikov, Dina Parakhina, Ronan O’Hora, Andras Schiff and Imogen Cooper. I have been incredibly privileged to study with fantastic musicians, who taught me not just about music, but enriched my life through advice on staying true to myself and always discovering new things. The thirst of knowledge and curiosity is one of the most beautiful things in life.

What have been the greatest challenges of your career so far?

I believe we all find ourselves at crossroads at some point in our lives. The greatest challenge is to take the right path for you. I usually analyse and over-analyse and once I have taken a decision, that’s it! I try to never look back and believe in the power of instinct- after a lot of research has been done!

Which performance/recordings are you most proud of?

Every recording I have ever made is the result of hard work, a long time planning, creating a vision and sticking to a plan.This year saw the release of my concerto debut disc- Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto 1 with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra on Signum Records coupled with the ‘Nutcracker Suite’ arranged by Pletnev. The joy of having my first concerto disc out is not easily put into words- honestly, a dream come true!

Which particular works do you think you play best?

I try to identify myself with whatever piece I am playing. I like reading about the story behind the music, I like to find out about the political situation of that time, where the composer was at the point in his life, what were his fears, his joys. The notes on the page are just the start of the journey.

How do you make your repertoire choices from season to season? 

I think long term. I like creating projects and putting programmes together that make sense. I am working on my Trilogy of Preludes at the moment, a project supported by the wonderful team at Champs Hill Records, who have very enthusiastically welcomed 3 CDs of complete preludes: vol I Chopin and Dutilleux, vol II Szymanowski and Shostakovich (both released) and vol III Fauré and Messiaen coming out next year. I enjoy introducing my audiences to new pieces, I like to challenge them with something they might not know they would love.

Do you have a favourite concert venue to perform in and why?

Every venue has its own personality, the same as pianos do. As a pianist, one has to adapt very quickly – I simply cannot describe how thrilling it is to step into a hall where so many of the great legends have played. There’s a huge pressure but in the same time there’s something humbling and magical about it.

Favourite pieces to perform? Listen to?

I love performing the Nutcracker Suite. I feel the versatility of the piano makes it possible to recreate the orchestral sound and it allows me to imagine all the magical world the story tells in a very intimate setting. I love listening to everything, from jazz to folk, pop to classical.

What is your most memorable concert experience?

Goodness me, where should I start?! Every concert is memorable, from a little hall in the middle of nowhere to the big giants. My first time at Carnegie Hall will always be the icing on the cake (and lots of the readers will know I love cake!). Getting a standing ovation at the Concertgebouw was quite something. My Buenos Aires concert in front of a packed 5000 seat hall (at lunchtime!) had me on my toes (I was told Beyoncé performed there the night before- make of that what you will!). Performing with youth orchestras is always truly rewarding- we all learn from each other and I always feel happy amongst them.

What do you consider to be the most important ideas and concepts to impart to aspiring musicians?

Always be true to yourself. Never give up. Always follow your dream- patience and perseverance will get you a long way. Never stop learning, from anyone and from every situation!

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

Being able to enjoy each moment as it comes, living in the present. Making a difference, standing up for what I believe in. Change lives through music!

What is your most treasured possession?

My piano.

What do you enjoy doing most?

Play my piano, communicate, bake, cycling with hubby, being with people.

What is your present state of mind?

I am truly grateful for everyone and everything I have around me. I feel blessed to be able to follow my dream.

 

From London’s Royal Albert Hall to Carnegie Hall in New York, the young Romanian pianist Alexandra Dariescu, recently named as one of 30 pianists under 30 destined for a spectacular career (International Piano Magazine), dazzles audiences worldwide with her effortless musicality and captivating stage presence.

Read more about Alexandra Dariescu here

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MusicHolidayItaly (MHI) was created by Gil Jetley, a pianist/teacher with a lifetime experience in music as a second career. (In 2012 he won First Prize at the prestigious International Chopin Competition for amateurs in Warsaw which takes place every three years.). I recently met up with Gil to talk about his piano courses, pianists, repertoire and the pleasures and challenges of playing the piano……

Piano courses and summers schools seem to be more popular than ever now, and MHI is coming up to its third year of summer masterclasses for amateur pianists. What makes yours different from other courses and summer schools?

Well, first, no-one else is doing this in Italy, and secondly, we run not just one masterclass a year but several from Easter to the end of October. We offer both traditional group masterclasses and our unique One-on-One courses which have the added flexibility of participants being able to choose their own dates. Another aspect that makes us different is that we think in terms of “guests” rather than “students” or “participants”. We’re focussed on music coaching of course, but as well as a valuable musical experience we aim to give guests a truly authentic Italian experience.

You mention One-on-One courses – what is a One-on-One course?

It’s a unique concept as far as I know, and ideal if you are shy about performing to a group. A minimum of four hours personal coaching every day, unlimited practise time, and pampered attention from dawn to dusk. We even chauffeur you to and from the airport. It’s a stress-free way to learn a lot in a short time. Actually, our One-on-Ones are more in demand than the more common group masterclasses, possibly because there’s nothing else quite like them.

Who are the tutors?

The main tutor is Course Director Gil Jetley, a pianist/teacher with a lifetime experience in music as a second career. Guest tutors for 2017 still to be confirmed include Martin Roscoe and for 2018 we anticpate having Noriko Ogawa.

What’s new for 2017?

Teacher Symposiums: a chance for piano teachers to meet and learn from colleagues, contribute their own teaching  experiences, and support each other in a relaxed inspirational setting.  Learn what repertoire others use, review piano methods, discuss how to teach adults, see how your colleagues deal with technique, how they teach theory, prepare students for exams, and which syllabuses they favour. Further information here

For a week in July we are offering a special dedicated course for adult amateur pianists with arthiritis – further details here

You mention you aim to give truly authentic Italian experience. What do you mean by that?

Local cuisine is of course central to any Italian experience. On both group masterclasses and One-on-Ones, we wine and dine guests each evening at locally renowned restaurants. If there’s a piano on hand our guests are welcome to give an impromptu cabaret – the locals love it, and it makes for a great social evening out.

Equally important is our location in the very heart of the Sibilini National Park. Even Italians consider this one of the most beautiful, unspoilt parts of Italy. After the morning masterclass is over we encourage guests to spend at least one afternoon sampling local life through a range of ‘add-ons’ we can arrange.

What kind of ‘add-ons’?

Italian cooking lessons at a local restaurant are very popular, as are guided wine trails. Also visits to the countless mediaeval hilltop towns, many with priceless art in their museums, galleries and churches. For the energetic we can take you on lakeside walks, through forest trails, or up mountain scrambles, all impossibly photogenic with a chance to snap a golden eagle, porcupine, wild boar or even a loan wolf! For a highlight to the week, how about opera under the stars in a Roman amphitheatre? There are so many attractions, often guests follow up a week of music with a few extra days holiday experiencing life the Italian way.

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What about the accommodation?

As well as ensuite bedrooms at Montemuse (where the masterclasses take place) there is an organic farm with a restored farmhouse, family chalets and pool just five minutes away. So the whole family can come along on holiday too.

When is the best time to enrol?

Now! It’s really important to enrol early, ideally before Christmas, before the holiday booking season gets into gear. Remember the Sibilini Park is considered one of the most beautiful, unspoilt parts of Italy, and even though it’s far away from the tourist crowds, this region quickly gets booked solid for the summer. We’ve even had to cancel a scheduled course because all nearby accommodation was snapped up. So the earlier you enrol, the sooner we can reserve (and guarantee) your accommodation.

A word from previous participants?

We justly proud of the comments from our guests. You can check out more reviews on our website but here’s a sample from both our groups masterclasses and the One-on-Ones.

“Stunning, peaceful and inspirational”

“Great Director, made me feel incredible happy”

“Great teacher, patient, full of good energy, formidable”

“Perfect organisation”

“Lovely piano”

“Awesome meals, every evening a feast”

“Very, very enjoyable”

“Excellent value, both teaching and food!”

“Very satisfied, a fantastic musical experience”

And a final word from you, Gil?

There’s plenty of information and photos on our website so do take a look and explore the site. Especially do browse the reviews which should give you a good idea what to expect!

For further information about and booking please visit the musicholidayitaly website