My poor violin...

On Saturday I was performing my dress rehearsal (make sure you all come to my real recital as I didn't see most of you there) and I was playing Sibelius's concerto 2nd movement and was playing really quickly and the strings to my violin snapped and whacked me in the face (I am o.k.) causing me to drop my violin, causing my violin to break. This is roughly what it looked like but worse:


This is what my face looked like:



Needless to say the performance didn't end very well. Hopefully next Saturday will be a lot better, but probably not quite so entertaining for those that attend.

How nice to have an advocate

(Warning! This post reads like a personal history. I have been feeling the need to write this down and chose my blog as the recipient for the story. It is lengthy, and not very interesting except to myself. Therefore, I will not feel bad if you don't read it.)

This is Kory.

He is the director of the BYU Philharmonic and Chamber Orchestras.

He is also my violin teacher.


My sister came up with a word for my relationship with Kory--he is my advocate.


For some reason Kory has always really liked and respected me. Maybe it's because I always show up to rehearsal. Maybe it's because I practice my orchestra parts. Maybe it's because of my charming personality . . . ummm, well, probably not so much.


On the flip side, I have always liked and respected Kory. When he first came to BYU he got a lot of flak from the older students because he did things differently than their previous conductor. I never thought he was really deserving of their criticism.


Before my mission I had five different violin teachers at BYU. Some were good, some were great, and some were a trial. I never sought out Kory for a violin teacher though. He was just an orchestral director in my eyes. He had some students, but none of the really good players were in his studio.


Post-mission, I found myself returning to BYU, quite unexpectedly. And here, I interrupt the flow of my story to describe Kory's first act as my advocate. Part of the reason I even considered returning to BYU was because I had heard that the Chamber Orchestra was going on tour to Great Britain. (Not the greatest reason for choosing a graduate school I suppose, but I felt good about the decision nonetheless.) I really wanted to go, but I didn't know how on earth it could work out because chamber orchestra rehearsals started in September and I wasn't coming home until December.

So I sent him an e-mail (with my mission president's permission, of course) that said something along the lines of: "Hi Kory. Hope life is treating you well. . . . I have been realizing how much I miss being in the BYU orchestras . . . (more flattery) . . . What are the chances of being able to join the BYU Chamber Orchestra when I get back? I don't know if I would be able to get into the graduate program this late. If I could even just come play in the Philharmonic it would be better than not doing any orchestra (this statement was just for good measure). Thanks . . . "


The next week I received a response that said: "Heather. Good to hear from you. If you decided to come back, I would for sure save you a spot in Chamber! I need to know your decision soon though as auditions are in a couple of weeks . . ." I was shocked. I had always thought of Kory as playing by the rules, but here he was bending them for me. His intervention didn't stop there though. The School of Music doesn't normally accept people for January enrollment. I know my case was discussed at several meetings, and I know that Kory was my pulling for me harder than anyone. As a result, I got in.


Now, back to where I was going before. The one downside to returning to BYU was that there was no one I wanted to take lessons from. I was starting to doubt the wisdom in basing my graduate school decision on an orchestral experience rather than on a really great violin teacher. I decided--a little hesitantly--to be in Kory's studio.


One of the best decisions I ever made.


Not too much to say about the first couple of semesters, other than that he was really encouraging and patient as I made the transition from missionary to musician. I recall one day when I just didn't feel well, I hadn't practiced much, and I came to my lesson feeling really discouraged. After playing through a new caprice, he asked me what I wanted to play for him next (one of the great things about lessons with Kory is he lets you decide what to focus on). I said, "Well, I could play ____ for you again. I don't know." Again he inquired, "Well, what would be the most helpful for you?" I started to say something, and then I just lost it. The tears came, and out came the explanation of how I had not been feeling well, and I was sorry I wasn't more prepared, and I was sorry I was crying (I don't think I had ever cried in a violin lesson before). And he responded, "You know what Heather, lets not worry about playing today. That's not important right now. Why don't you put your instrument away and why don't we listen to the recording of Beethoven (our most recent concert)." And we spent the next 40 minutes listening to and discussing our concert.


Ok, back to the real story (wow, if this isn't the longest blog entry ever. I had no idea I had so much to say on the subject). Last winter semester I was debating taking some orchestra auditions. I felt super inadequate, and almost didn't go for it, but guess who was my biggest supporter? That's right. Kory spent numerous lessons talking me through all of these decisions. He was patient as I went back and forth, changing my mind weekly. When I finally decided to take the auditions, he helped me through all of the excerpts, even giving me extra lessons for free after the semester was over. I think the way he put it when I offered to pay him and he refused was, "Let's not look at this as a teacher-student thing. Let's look at this as a colleague helping a fellow colleague." Wow!


After each audition I called to let him know how it had gone. He expressed his pleasure at my having done so well, and he wanted to know the details of what the process had been like, and which excerpts I had played.


Later in the summer, I had a million decisions to make. Whether or not to take more orchestra auditions, what to play on my graduate recital, whether or not to take certain classes, when to graduate, whether or not I should play in orchestra, how much teaching to take on, etc. I called him a couple of times and the man patiently talked me through all of these decisions, helping me to come to conclusions that I felt good about. I think most people would have said, "I don't know. That's something you have to figure out. Pray about it." And they would probably be right. But I'm glad Kory took the time to help me through my muddled state.


And finally this semester: I cannot sing his praises enough. My graduate recital is in two short weeks (yikes, did I really just say TWO weeks?). Let's count the ways that he has helped make it an easier process for me. I'll be brief. First of all, he intervened with the scheduling office to arrange a time that was more convenient for everyone. Secondly, he told me to not worry about playing the opera because it starts this weekend and runs through next week (this has meant extra practice time during the day since I haven't had to go to orchestra, as well as not having to stay up late for days in a row to play the show). And thirdly, he told me I don't have to do the concertmaster auditions that are coming up, and I'm even assuming he won't put me in the back of the section as a result. Oh, and let me just mention that he had a new grand baby last week, so he flew to California over the weekend; his flight came in on Monday at 9:15, and he was at BYU at 10:30 for my pre-recital hearing.

What has he gotten out of all of this? He lost a player for the opera, he lost lots of time in talking with me and about my situation to other people, and he may have even gotten other students upset at him for helping me out. I guess that's sort of the definition of an advocate (my definition at least)--someone who intervenes/helps/pleads on behalf of someone else without any expectation of receiving recompense.

It reminds me of a scripture: "I say unto you . . . if you should render all the thanks and praise which your whole soul has power to possess, . . . I say, if ye should serve him with all your whole souls yet ye would be unprofitable servants. And behold, all that he requires of you is to keep his commandments. . . . for which if ye do, he doth immediately bless you; and therefore he hath paid you. And ye are still indebted unto him, and are, and will be, forever and ever" (Mosiah 2:20-22, 24).


How grateful I am for advocates, especially our great advocate, even the Savior Jesus Christ.


Thanks Kory, for reminding me how to be more like the Savior.

I passed!

Yay!!!
My pre-recital hearing is over, and I passed (I started getting a tiny bit worried after 3 or 4 minutes of waiting in the hall for their verdict), which means that I get to have my recital on November 3rd!

I guess there really wasn't much of a question of me not passing, but it's still nice to have the experience behind me. Also, I felt pretty good about my performance--I played the Paganini better than I've ever performed it! (Now, if I could just perform it as well as I practice it. Sigh.)

Are you happy?

"Happiness is the object and design of our existence; and will be the end thereof, if we pursue the path that leads to it; and this path is virtue, uprightness, faithfulness, holiness, and keeping all the commandments of God."
Joseph Smith

Have you ever stopped to think about what that really means? It means that the purpose of life, the reason we are here on earth, is to be happy, or to discover happiness, if you will! For some reason that really strikes a chord with me.

Happiness had already been on my mind a lot lately, and then on Thursday we spent a whole lecture on it in my religion class (taught by my mission president, Brent L. Top). Let me tell you what, there are some cool things in the scriptures about "the plan of happiness".

Immediately a scripture comes to mind: "Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy" (2 Nephi 2:25). I'm also reminded to "consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold they are blessed in all things . . . and if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness" (Mosiah 2:41). Have you considered why that is so?

Well, in order to dwell with God, we have to be like God, right? And what is God like? In Alma 41:11 there is a direct parallel between the nature of God and the nature of happiness. So when we take on His other attributes, I believe we also take on His happiness.

I'm doing a really poor job of describing how great this is. I wish I had Lori's gift for profundity right now. It's so obvious, yet we forget it all the time! We focus sometimes too much on the fact that "life is a test" and "life is hard" (I attended a Stake Conference about a year ago where that was the theme--I've never been so depressed after a church meeting in my life!). And of course life is hard, but ultimately life, and especially a life centered around Jesus Christ, is all about happiness, despite trials and sadness. I even believe that we can be happy even when we are sad (or stressed, or frustrated, or tired, or . . . anything)--the one doesn't necessarily cancel out the other.

And what goes hand in hand with happiness? GRATITUDE! I am so grateful for the MILLIONS of things God has blessed me with, all of which are reasons to be happy. In fact, I'm grateful to be happy!

Mondays

I really love Mondays. Strange, I know. Mondays are the days people dread--it means going back to work/school, being responsible, not sleeping in (unless you have kids, and then you never get to sleep in). But it also means a fresh start, having a little more energy because of the extra rest, and tackling all the things you didn't have time for the week before. I think it's the structure of Mondays that I really like. Saturdays, which typically have zero structure, are not my favorite. Even when I was younger I was never a big fan of Saturdays. The day went too quick and I never seemed to get anything done before 4:00 or so. I do a little better with my Saturdays these days, but still . . . I just like Mondays best.

Any other Monday fans out there?

I must have been cold last night . . .

. . . because I dreamt that someone had turned our air-conditioning on cold. I think I was in the process of writing a note to leave by the thermostat to kindly remind people that when it's cold we should turn on the heat, when I woke up.

Getting cold

I don't know about where you all live, but here in Utah it has been rather cold as of late. There have been lovely, warm moments, but the cooler temperatures seem to be taunting me with the imminence of winter.

I don't like winter.

I suppose there's a certain charm to winter if you think of hot chocolate, Christmas carols, sledding down hills, and colorful scarves. However, the reality is scraping car windshields, walking to campus with frozen fingers, and having to put on/take off layers upon layers of clothing when you leave/enter a building. In short, winter is a pain.

I'm told that you miss it when you live where there is no winter. My response--I'd like to see it before I believe it.