It was the spring of 2002. I was a newly engaged flit of a girl trying to hold the finishing touches of college together and plan a wedding over the phone while my mother did the legwork. My piano professor suggested that I audition for a masterclass during the Hilton Head International Piano Competition. I sent in a recording and was accepted.
My professor's advice was to play a short Liszt piece I'd already played for the Julliard piano chair at a different masterclass when he soloed with our university orchestra. He had quizzed me on the historical events surrounding the piece (which fortunately I knew), offered some excellent interpretive advice, and thanked me at the end of the session. That moment was golden to me. But during the spring of 2002, my naive bravado just had to play the newly-learned Chopin Fantasie in f minor-- much more technically demanding and something I thought I could get some fresh ideas for.
The masterclass teacher brought out some technical spots that I was lacking in, and his attitude was a bit of machismo geared at showing the audience that he was obviously superior to this female upstart (okay, granted he'd won the Van Cliburn gold when I was only 5 years old!). I was seeking some musical/interpretive or technical tips. But he only pointed out a few passages that I had slopped through and after playing them adequately himself, figuratively dismissing me. It felt a bit off, but really... no worries. It made me realize that my professor was an infinitely better pedagogue than this guy, who seemed more oriented towards his own performance and ego.
I left the masterclass and waltzed back to Columbia, chattering with New Daddy on the phone about whatever we could endlessly discuss.
Fast forward 16 years, and I am brainstorming a bio to put on a website for a homeschool orchestra that I'm starting for my area. People often list teachers they've had for masterclasses on their bios. I google the piano competition. I google the judge who I played for (because I had forgotten his name). And it turns out he ended his life 3 years ago at the age of 53. He had been medicated for depression for years.
I guess it goes to show that you never know what people are going through when you find yourself in their crosshairs.
Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.
My professor's advice was to play a short Liszt piece I'd already played for the Julliard piano chair at a different masterclass when he soloed with our university orchestra. He had quizzed me on the historical events surrounding the piece (which fortunately I knew), offered some excellent interpretive advice, and thanked me at the end of the session. That moment was golden to me. But during the spring of 2002, my naive bravado just had to play the newly-learned Chopin Fantasie in f minor-- much more technically demanding and something I thought I could get some fresh ideas for.
The masterclass teacher brought out some technical spots that I was lacking in, and his attitude was a bit of machismo geared at showing the audience that he was obviously superior to this female upstart (okay, granted he'd won the Van Cliburn gold when I was only 5 years old!). I was seeking some musical/interpretive or technical tips. But he only pointed out a few passages that I had slopped through and after playing them adequately himself, figuratively dismissing me. It felt a bit off, but really... no worries. It made me realize that my professor was an infinitely better pedagogue than this guy, who seemed more oriented towards his own performance and ego.
I left the masterclass and waltzed back to Columbia, chattering with New Daddy on the phone about whatever we could endlessly discuss.
Fast forward 16 years, and I am brainstorming a bio to put on a website for a homeschool orchestra that I'm starting for my area. People often list teachers they've had for masterclasses on their bios. I google the piano competition. I google the judge who I played for (because I had forgotten his name). And it turns out he ended his life 3 years ago at the age of 53. He had been medicated for depression for years.
I guess it goes to show that you never know what people are going through when you find yourself in their crosshairs.
Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.
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