Memorization, Part 3: You’ve got it backwards

Everyone has his tricks for practicing, memorizing, maximizing practice time, and what/how to think/feel about it all. Much of the written literature on the subject is backed up by research, experience, fieldwork, and brain study. And much more of it is home remedies. If you read it all and try to follow it, you’d never get to the practice room. And you’d go crazy with conflicting opinions playing in your head. Nevertheless, here’s my home remedy for you: memorizing in the cognitive manner, but with a twist: doing it backwards.

First, let’s take care of “cognitive.” It’s the attention paid to every note, taking notice of patterns in melody, patterns in rhythm, disruptions of patterns (very important), fugue subject entries and alterations, harmonic analysis and direction, active comparison of similar-yet-dissimilar passages throughout the piece, fingerings and subsequent alterations to them in similar-yet-dissimilar passages. The list goes on. Cognitive memory is a deliberate attempt to memorize every note and leave nothing to chance. It is much more solid than kinesthetic (motor) memory. I don’t have to ask anyone if they have experienced crashing and burning in performance because the motor memory hiccupped. They have. And we have all witnessed it, too.

So, memorizing every note is the way to go. The twist in my approach is to memorize from the end and work my way to the beginning. I select the final few notes, just enough to make one “bite” to chew on, and I memorize it. Then I back up and selected a similarly-sized or similarly-difficult bite, chew it, then glue it together to the previous one. I do this from end to beginning, bite by bite.

Benefits of working backwards with memorizing:

1. It eliminates the temptation to “perform” for yourself in the practice room. It actually gets work done, rather than feeding the fantasy of playing the piece in public. It makes that fantasy a reality sooner.

2. Most people practice from the beginning each day, which gives the middle and end less practice time, thereby making the piece sound less solid as it goes in performance. My process reverses that. If people are wowed by the beginning, just wait ’til I show ’em the end!

3. It eliminates the coma that ensues when you start at the beginning, try to memorize, and just end up playing through to the end, fumbling along the way and getting nothing done.

4. It eliminates the panic from looking at the whole piece and saying, “O my God, I have to memorize all these notes.”

5. It makes the piece shorter. You focus on a small part better, rather than continuing to look ahead and see all that music you have to memorize.

6. It eliminates the need to continue playing to the end, because you constantly keep finding yourself in familiar territory. No need to go on to the end! Go backwards and bite off another bite.

7. It forces you to look at every detail and select a bite to chew on. Not too big.

8. As with anything I try to do professionally, it makes the piece sound better, which is the whole point of music, isn't it? Hellooooo!

A new day

The crash on I-40 in eastern Tennessee on October 2 involved the bus from my childhood church, Front Street Baptist in Statesville, N.C. My aunt and uncle were on that bus, as were 16 other friends I have known for many years. Six of them died that day; my family survived. Truly the most tragic day I have ever known.

Of course, the humanity that ensues after something like that is as encouraging as the event is tragic. The Red Cross, donations, hospital staff, first responders, EVERYONE has been a gift from God with their presence and their help. Just as the horror is unspeakable, so was the kindness of thousands. I have no more words for any of it.

I attended the special service the following Sunday morning at Front Street. This is where Joby-the-grieving-for-his-childhood-church collided with Joby-the-professional-musician. I felt the sincerity among the congregation; I felt their pain, and I felt their support and their unwillingness to allow this horror to slow them down in their mission. But their MUSIC has changed from what I once knew. Out of respect for the congregation's grief, I'll not go further into that right now. But when a person like me enters into such a space for the first time in a while, he acknowledges ALL his thoughts and emotions, not just the ones everyone else has at the time. It was an enlightening moment.

But no matter. It's a new day, and for the first time since the unexpected death of my father in 2003, I have a renewed zeal for living life before I die. Some things are important, and others are not.

Nunc dimittis:

Barbara Morrison

Randy Morrison

Cloyce Matheny

Marsha McLelland

Brenda Smith

John Wright

Weddings! Part 5: Jill and Kevin

We're talking about weddings in my church music class this semester. And since I'm such a huge fan of weddings (not), we have plenty to talk about. I'll be brief here.

One of the most viral YouTube videos ever is of a wedding party dancing down the aisle to a canned version of "Forever" by Chris Brown. I don't need to describe the music nor the event. You NEED to watch it here. And you have been warned. Don't say I didn't warn you. I warned you.

I will always maintain that a wedding held in a church is a service of worship, and not of the bride nor groom. But if you watch, you'll see that the bride and groom, particularly the bride, were worshipped in a big way that day. And so it goes. I'm troubled by it only because I'm not comfortable doing certain things in a church. I still don't walk into one without wearing a coat and tie. And I vividly recall some rather physical punishment I received as a kid, after I was running among the pews during a service. I have a learned respect for the inside of a church building. Nothing wrong with a little respect for where one is.

Ancient weddings included processional dances, but I doubt they included canned songs about sleeping together tonight. And they were done outside. While I would never deny a couple the joy that comes with getting married, if you're getting married in a church, then it's no longer just about you and your joy. On the other hand, I know that lightning did not strike our video wedding that day. God did not rain fire and brimstone upon the heathen. The building is still standing; the church still has a contributing congregation; no one got fired.

Well, mankind has pushed the envelope for centuries on what is appropriate in a church. Even murder has been committed in them, so what's a wedding dance down the aisle to a song about sleeping together tonight? So, just as I instruct my students this semester, I'll just say that since we don't know what God really thinks about it, we all have to make our own decisions, in consultation with our congregations, on what we'll allow and disallow in our church buildings. Had that wedding taken place outside, or had that dance occurred at the reception or the rehearsal dinner, we wouldn't have had a blog post today, for it would have been a non-starter. But there are some places on earth where we should still maintain some decorum. And when I'm the last old fart standing on that front, I'll graciously retire, give up the fight, and get out of the way.

I can hear you over there, you know

Practicing over someone else’s noise has not gotten easier for me. In fact, it has become one of those most dreaded tasks I have. Chalk it up to any number of things:

My Type-B personality and its attending allergy to confrontation to ask someone to quiet down so I can work.

Or to the echoes of my childhood and adolescence, when people would insist I play something for them, then they would start chatting with each other from the very first notes, instantly turning me into muzak.

Then there was the wedding coordinator, who would bring engaged couples into the church during the week to show them around and explain how weddings go in the space. I would usually stop practicing, lean over around the console, and say sarcastically, “Uh, don’t let me interrupt!”

Then there was the clergy, who would walk the guest clergy through the chancel during the prelude (of all times) to show them the ropes.

Then there was (still is) the cleaning and maintenance crews, who come in and vacuum, hammer nails, paint, or change light bulbs with cherry pickers. Then their two-way radios squawk, or they start chatting amongst themselves.

And I would never survive in Europe, trying to practice in some church that is practically Tourist Central!

But wouldn’t all this set you off on some level, too? Consider it: I bring someone into your office while you’re working there, and I start up a conversation with them that neither applies to nor includes you. We don’t even acknowledge you. It’s the same thing. The only difference lies in the size of the room.

I’m not looking for a solution here yet. I’m still looking for a diagnosis. Is it that a church or concert hall is considered a public space and that someone practicing is considered to be using only a small part of it? Is it an over-assumed myth that a person playing the organ can’t hear "quiet” conversation in the back row? Yes, it’s a large room, and it is apparently a foreign concept for one person to need the entire space, undisturbed. But it is true. I do need the whole room, for I am listening to the whole room as I work, which means that I can hear you back there, especially your sibilants.

Now, about the solution to this: as it is when entering any room where someone is already working, you either remain absolutely quiet, or you apologize for interrupting and ask if you can stay to __________ . For the record, I will always say yes to such a polite request. It doesn’t bother me at all to take a break and a short walk until you’re finished. But you will acknowledge my presence and existence beforehand! It's more about respect than entitlement to the room.

Two Twofers

I’m about to go play a recital at Houston Baptist University, where I have been asked to play for no more than 70 minutes and to play tuneful if not entirely familiar music. The tuneful bit I can handle, and the 70 minutes I can handle. That then leaves the issue of just what to program. In an hour, I could get through Reubke (20 minutes) plus a Reger Fantasy of some sort (another 20 minutes) or a Widor Symphony. All that is plenty tuneful, but it eats up a lot of my allotted hour. I prefer variety, and so I have chosen to play a program of shortish but pithy works (Franck A Major Fantaisie, Sowerby Pageant, selected pieces by Jongen and Gawthrop, BWV 550, etc.). Problem solved.

The “twofer” special comes into play later on in November, when I’ll be performing for the East Texas Pipe Organ Festival in Kilgore, Tex. That audience will be composed of Aeolian-Skinner buffs, all of whom could handle 70 minutes of Schoenberg but would prefer Lemare, Whitlock, and the pieces named above. The organ I’ll be playing on is two-manual (albeit with a generous spec), in a perfectly lousy acoustic. I have heard big pieces played on that organ before, and they just chew through so much time on a program, while I would rather exploit the instrument’s micro-capabilities.  Therefore, I have chosen to play much the same program described above – shortish pieces that travel well anywhere.

There is a second “twofer” special going on: the Widor Symphonie romane. I played it last April for the very first time, at Christ Methodist in Greensboro. I thought it would be the perfect piece for that organ and for that organ-savvy audience. And it was a perfect programming coup (not played entirely perfectly, but who’s counting?). As I pondered where else I might perform that piece, an invitation came in to play an Evensong recital at St. Philip’s Cathedral in Atlanta. Bingo. So, two days after the Houston recital described above, I’ll be playing the Widor again. It’s not often I need to keep two completely different programs under my fingers, but it feels so good to customize a program for a specific need, audience, organ, or event. I have discussed that before, and I still practice what I preach there.

So that’s two recitals in Texas and two perfect places to perform the Widor Romane. One Widor opportunity has already passed, folks. Hurry in today while supplies last!

Help Yourself VIII: Boldly going where I don't belong

Here are two more installments on my quest to share all my hymn reharmonizations and other works. These two are a little daring, in that one shamelessly adds parts where none previously existed (in the case of the first one), and one boldly cuts out the confusing parts to keep a congregation together while singing (in the case of the second one).

As with all the PDFs in this tagged series, you are welcome to click, print out, and use these freely:

SALVE FESTA DIES, 4 pts with descant

Malotte Lord's Prayer, simplified for congregational use

People who need people

We have all heard the lecture to turn off phones and such devices, whether during class or church or a meeting or a concert or a flight. Then some people don’t do it, and their phone rings. Some people honestly forget to turn it off or could swear they did. Others don’t care and will not be torn away from their beloved device, respect be damned.

Many of us then jump to the same conclusion that says that no one is so important that they can’t live without the phone or texting for an hour or so, which is true. This past summer, I decided not to contract for phone/texting service during a trip to Europe. I lived for 18 days that way, and the world continued to turn while I was gone, and I missed nothing of digital importance while away.

But I would suggest there is a different, more deeply seated issue with people when it comes to their digital leashes. It’s not about a person actually being “important.” Rather, I believe that the need to be needed is stronger than ever in society. No matter if extroverted or introverted, the possibility of constant companionship with others, even if one is physically alone, is compelling and hard to let go of (for some of us). Never mind if you’re sending inane messages such as “LOL” or “LMAO” or “:).” Getting together with others, even if digitally, is not only fun but also integral to being human. I have blogged before about the social elements of teaching and of eating. The only element we lack in all this digital contact is a sense of propriety and respect for when not to use it, which is never excused just because someone is addicted to the device.

But I believe the satisfaction of getting something done enters into this constant-contact mentality. It feels good to answer someone quickly and move on to the next to-do item. And if you can answer many people in rapid succession, you help your world turn a little faster and more efficiently. And there are perfect times to get things like that done, such as on the subway or while waiting for lunch to arrive or on a flight or yes, during the sermon or yes, in the restroom. It feels good to me to eliminate all those little numbered badges on my iPhone screen in Words With Friends, Facebook, Email, and App Store updates. It looks like a clean slate of sorts, an empty to-do list. And I suppose it feels good to cuss someone out while hiding behind Facebook. I wouldn’t know that firsthand, but I have been on the receiving end of such a rant. I know that the other person must have felt better, no matter that he was wrong in his assumptions and his delivery or that he would socio-pathologically move on to another victim within the hour.

In our society where the obsessive/compulsive is worse than ever AND laziness is more profound than ever, with little in between, it makes sense that the slackers use their phone more to have fun, and the O/C use theirs to avoid more important tasks than answering a text or Facebooking a recipe. Or in my case, to avoid practicing.

New developments

I’m just back from the Netherlands, where I was a tourist and not an organist. On the other hand, my definition of touring is to visit the churches and not the museums. So I did make my presence known in a few churches and was allowed to play a couple jewels, including the magnificent Müller organ at the Bavokerk in Haarlem and the Schnitger organ at the Aa Kerk in Groningen. I also heard some splendid playing, particularly in the service playing department!

I was taught that the Netherlands is quite the seat of important developments in organ building. While I appreciated that fact all these years, I now know it to be true. The churches are beautiful. The organs are beautiful. The organ concerts are plentiful. And the organists are very accommodating and hospitable to this organist posing as a tourist.

But there is a dark side to this.

Imagine your church. Imagine it being decommissioned yet keeping its name. Imagine the pews/seats being removed and the room being turned into a reception hall, a banquet hall, a museum, a civic center, or a concert hall. Permanently.

That is pretty much unheard of in the US. But such is quite the norm in the Netherlands. Fully one-third to one-half the churches I visited were at least half church and half “otherwise.” And quite a few were all “otherwise.” As an American from a fairly religion-dominated country, I was at first horrified by this. But as the trip went on, it became “normal,” and I understood the reasons why things are the way they are now. Struggling churches, dwindling congregations, high maintenance costs, etc. – you know the drill. So this is a way for the buildings to continue to be used, to be continuing beacons in their cities and cultures. And there are still “organists” for those “churches.” And they go to great lengths to perform often; the organs are being used and still being admired, even if the audience numbers are a bit low and the audience members’ average age a bit high. But for now, things are stable if not entirely solid.

While I celebrate the history (and the present) of organ music in the Netherlands, I am now keeping a watchful eye on its future. The above-described development is a little unsettling, but it is most encouraging that the authorities understand the important heritage found in the organs and that they are keeping them alive. We must thank the organists for their efforts in educating the authorities in this; it’s working so far. Americans take heed – you may need to develop similar educational skills soon.

Love/Hate

Music really does stir the emotions. It takes Sirius/XM and a long road trip to find that out. Picture me behind the wheel for nine to fifteen hours at various times this past week. Picture me basking in my entertainment options:

’80s pop: reminds me of school days. I hear tunes that bring the memories flooding back in. No good pop music has been written since about 1987, so I enjoy hearing real pop tunes once again, with creative band work and real melodies. But then the memories start to include loves lost, mild bullying, and family matters, and I start getting irritated, many times without knowing it. Oh, but the music is so good. No, change the station.

’70s pop: is much the same for me as ’80s, but it reminds me of even earlier days in the car, going to church and to school. But then I begin to remember some of the emotional and racial straitjackets that can be the product of growing up in North Carolina. Change the station.

Only recently, I have begun to enjoy the hidden treasures (hidden from me, that is) of Broadway. Of course, I am familiar with the traditional book musicals, but the new stuff actually has something to say, much to my pleasant surprise. It’s an easy entertainment, doesn’t require much thought, and melodies are still being churned out today. But then I begin to listen too much to the screaming and larynx-crushing belting, and my scruples as a musician begin to take over. Enter the irritation again, and change the station.

Comedy is nice to have on satellite radio; it’s uncensored. But it can’t be taken in doses longer than about thirty minutes, and when the sound quality goes down like on an old Redd Foxx recording, it’s no fun anymore. And there are too many ads. Change the station.

A full opera on the radio is one of mankind’s better ideas. I can listen to that for hours, with no apparent lapse into irritation. At last! A station I can listen to! But opera is no fun if you can’t see it, and I’m not familiar with enough operas to know what’s going on. But the music is sublime, and so I listen.

Then there’s classical pops. Bite-sized pieces or only single movements. That begins to irritate me; I want to hear the whole symphony, the whole suite, the whole sonata. And so oddly enough, I begin to get irritated by classical music. And I am also reminded by some pieces of the repetition of popular pieces over and over and over on the stations I used to listen to in Houston. And then I’m reminded of the endless prattling of some of the announcers in Houston, sometimes to the point that they’d forget to actually say the name of the piece or its composer. I called in time after time to ask them not to skip over the important information while they were chasing logorrheic butterflies. Change the station.

Then there are classic radio shows such as Gunsmoke and Sherlock Holmes. I love those shows very much, but the ads in between are of shady products no one has ever heard of. Irritation. Change the station.

The full-length classical station called Symphony Hall is perfect. It is the one station I can listen to for hours in the car, not needing to plug in my own music. They play good stuff from all centuries, a lot of which I haven’t heard of, and they don’t repeat stuff. Did you know that Castelnuovo-Tedesco composed a Piano Concerto number TWO? I didn’t knew he had composed a number ONE! But lo and behold, number two was playing. About the only time I have ever shut off Symphony Hall was when they started a complete Nutcracker – in July. I’m not sure what that was about.

I suppose those flawless recordings of emotional and cerebral classical music feed my soul more than the direct love songs that leave nothing to the imagination. Memories sparked by music are nice, but the classical stuff moves past memories and reminds me of a future.

Rinse, repeat

There is a cycle that keeps getting repeated:

1. Church’s organist is retiring after decades of service pretty much for free. Church feels that since organist served pretty much for free that that’s the way it’s supposed to work and anyone who insists otherwise just doesn’t have a heart for God or for his people. OR: Church can no longer afford a full-time person, and so when the incumbent moves on, the church will split the position among two people who have a heart for God, make them part-time, and pay accordingly. In either case, the flow chart continues:

2. Church has joined the national church management club and has been requiring written purchase orders and work orders for years. The paperwork to miss a day, get some tables set up, buy paper clips, or go to the doctor is now staggering. There are now regular meetings to assess performance, paradigm shifts, and purpose-driven drivel to make any church look on the inside like an oil company. And still the part-time help syndrome continues to whittle away at quality in all positions except clergy (and even then...!).

3. And so a job description is formulated, probably by no one who plays the organ. It outlines page upon page of duties, capped by a weekly work hour total of 20-25 or so. That number is critical, because if it reaches 30, then benefits must be paid. And even then, maybe not. And so the church says it can’t pay benefits. And so the hours are capped, regardless of whether the work can be done in that amount of time each week.

4. Church receives paltry applications.

5. Church wonders why. 

6. Church concludes there must be a shortage of organists. So let’s use a pianist on the organ patch of a synthesizer, or let’s just use a band like everyone else. We just couldn’t find anyone to play the organ; we had to do something.

But did anyone try to educate this church that they missed the mark in step 3? The same techniques used to attract and keep a pastor should be used to attract and keep decent church musicians. If you’re going to invoke business models, then invoke them everywhere. But we organists don’t TELL them they’re wrong, do we? We have been burned too many times, and so when we see another misguided job announcement, we just shrug and move on. And so the cycle repeats: church underestimates job and pays accordingly, organists don’t apply and don’t tell the church it has missed the mark, church doesn’t get good talent in the applicant pool or church loses a good person soon because the job and the pay just don’t match, cycle repeats.

Let’s talk about this “organist shortage.” Yes, there are in some ways a lack of warm bodies. But that exists primarily in the medium-sized churches. The big churches have plenty of musicians to choose from and enough money to pay them (for the most part). The smaller churches tend not to need a degreed organist (for the most part), and the degreed organists won’t be looking among the small, anyway (for the most part). And so it’s the medium-sized churches that are trying to save some money or just haven’t figured out that good music and decent pay really should go hand in hand. (For now, we won’t include here the mediocre musicians who are paid all too well. That’s for another post.)

But there are other “shortages” going on: 1) There is a lack of comprehensive teaching. I’m sorry, dear reader, but I’m seeing student after student graduating with no idea how to behave in a church or even in general public. I’m growing weary of hotshots on the scene who can play recitals but can’t keep a steady tempo in a hymn or even sightread a different hymn changed at the last minute. 2) There is also a shortage of money to attend college; families don’t have it to pay, and colleges don’t have it to offer. That alone is reaching critical mass. 3) Kids are not taking piano lessons. That used to be a normal part of growing up. And so when parents either don't put their kids in piano lessons or allow their kids to quit piano, then it becomes the actual congregation who can be blamed for a lack of knowledgeable musical talent. Let that sink in. 4) There will apparently always be a lack of organists with the backbones to tell these churches that they need to pay their musician as handsomely as they pay their pastor. Music is every bit as important as preaching to any given service, and until churches figure that out, they’ll continue to pay it less, ignoring ways to improve their situation.

Organists, get out there and educate these churches. Otherwise, rinse and repeat.

Rinse, repeat, part 2