PIANO
PEDAGOGY
FORUM

v. 3, no. 2/May 1, 2000



FORUM ON PIANO PERFORMANCE


A native of Missoula, Montana, pianist Elinor Freer has performed as soloist and chamber musician across the United States and throughout Holland, China, Germany, England, the former Soviet Union, and the Czech Republic. In America she has appeared as soloist with orchestras in Georgia, Kansas, North Carolina, Ohio, and Tennessee, and her performances have been broadcast on numerous public radio and television stations across the country. While residing in The Netherlands for three years, Ms. Freer performed at The Concertgebouw in Amsterdam, at the Valery Gergiev Festival with members of the Rotterdam Philharmonic, recorded several times for national Dutch radio, and toured Germany and Holland with Ensemble Ascoltate, a German ensemble dedicated to the performance of works by women composers. She also performed in Moscow under the sponsorship of the Dutch government and was twice the recipient of a Dutch grant to study and perform at the Akademie Muizicky Chumeni in Prague. In 1996, Ms. Freer was one of two American pianists selected to perform live and on radio and television specials in both Northern and Southern China in tours designed to promote cultural relations between the US and China. Ms. Freer has been the recipient of the Presser Foundation Fellowship at the Ravinia Festival, the Paul Jacobs Fellowship at the Tanglewood Music Center, and a prize winner and laureate in competitions such as the Joanna Hodges International Piano Competition, the Elizabeth Harper Vaughan Young Artist Competition, and the American Pianists Association Auditions. Also a winner of the Frank Huntington Beebe Foundation Award for study abroad, Ms. Freer holds degrees from the Cleveland Institute of Music, the University of Southern California, and the Utrechts Conservatorium in Holland; her principal teachers have included John Perry, Paul Schenly, Kyoko Hashimoto, and Ferenc Rados. Ms. Freer has also been invited to perform at such festivals as the International Musicians Seminar in Prussia Cove, England, and at Pianofest in The Hamptons on Long Island. She is currently Assistant Professor of Piano at Fort Hays State University in Kansas and in 1999 served on the collaborative piano staff at the Ravinia Festival in Chicago. As founder and director of the Cottonwood Music Project, an educational program designed to bring live chamber-music into the public schools and community venues, Ms. Freer is the recipient of grants from the Kansas Arts Commission and the Mid-America Arts Alliance.

Elinor Freer
Department of Music
Fort Hays State University
Hays, KS 67601
785.628.5362
efreer@fhsu.edu


A Journey Beyond the Expected

by Elinor Freer

In today's society, more and more creative musicians are finding themselves making music in unconventional ways. As a classically trained pianist, I have also begun to realize that much can be gained from performing in situations that vary from the traditional concert experience. Most of us spend years of conservatory training performing in only the most controlled of situations: degree recitals given in a favorable acoustic with a supportive audience of peers, teachers, and family. However, upon exiting school, frequently we find ourselves performing in less than ideal situations: on an unruly instrument, in a difficult acoustic, or perhaps in an unfamiliar or non-traditional setting. Almost four years ago, I had the opportunity to travel to China to perform. This adventure was not only memorable in many ways in and of itself, but also taught me many lessons about performing in unusual situations.

My journey to China began a few months prior to that morning, when I received a phone call while on summer vacation. A manager in the United States who specialized in bringing performers back and forth between the US and China had scheduled two tours for the Fall of 1996. I was being asked to fill in for a young woman who had just cancelled, and to join another American pianist (Noel Benkman from San Francisco) for two separate series of concerts in both Northern and Southern China. Once I realized that it was not a friend on the other end of the line playing a joke on me, I started checking into the offer. After talking to other pianists who had been on this same tour in previous years and assured me that it was the opportunity of a lifetime, I began to get ready for what was to be a truly amazing experience.

Slowly the details of the trip filtered down to me. I learned that we would be playing solo and duo piano music by Chinese and American composers, including a two-piano version of "Rhapsody in Blue," in which we would be accompanied by students from various conservatories across China. Chinese piano students would also be performing on the concerts, playing multi-piano selections as well as novelties such as, "Voices of a Multitude," a piece written especially for the concerts and performed by 100 fingers (ten students) at one piano. The conductor/organizer of the event would be John Kozar, who had traveled to China extensively and who had rounded up an experienced staff to travel with us. Our entourage would also include two American managers who were fortunately both fluent in both English and many Chinese dialects. Once in China, we would be working with a huge Chinese management company that was already busy putting the details of this huge extravaganza into place.

What was to be a trip like no other began to unfold. The things that I learned from my experiences in China can be translated into a set of informal guidelines, which can apply to anyone venturing outside the normal performance situation.

1. Go with the flow. Whatever happens, happens.

This is probably the single most important adjustment I had to make. Fortunately I began to realize it even before my feet had left American soil. Up until one day before departure I had no plane ticket, no itinerary, and absolutely no idea where or when the concerts would be occurring. Until the moment that I actually boarded the plane, some small part of me thought that the whole thing might not really be happening. In China, it seems that everything is decided and arranged at virtually the last minute. Even events for which months of planning must be required are never confirmed until hours before curtain. I always got the impression that no one seemed for certain that a concert would even take place that evening until the morning. Rehearsal schedules, concert programs, travel arrangements, piano moving and transport: all seemed decided at a moment's notice. In the end though, almost every event and concert came off beautifully organized and with very few hitches, which always mystified me. The night before we were all supposed to fly back to our respective homes after our first tour, poor Noel still had no plane ticket back to the US. I still remember his sad face as we all drove off to the airport and left him in the hotel lobby in Beijing. He had no idea whether or not he would ever get out of China and back to his family. (I'm happy to say he did, and that he even joined us for the second tour!) Maybe there is something to be said for abandoning our Western ways of over-organization and efficiency. However, it can be a frustrating way of life until you learn to relax and let go.

2. Be prepared to play under any conditions.

Probably the thing that surprised me the most about performing in China was the nature of the concerts we gave. I had no idea before leaving that we were going to be performing amplified concerts in stadiums for thousands of audience members. Although they do have some small performance spaces and intimate halls in China, the majority of places where concerts are held tend to be huge cavernous spaces, for which a maximum number of tickets can be sold. I got the impression that the Chinese are fond of big, elaborate spectacles rather than something like a low-key chamber music concert. Where else would I ever have the opportunity to play for over 60,000 people at an outdoor festival on the ocean in Qing-dao? (The beer of the same name had sponsored the festival, and had supplied giant beer kegs that were rolled out onto stage and nestled next to the pianos. I donŐt think I'll ever again play Chopin while surrounded by giant beer kegs!).

The audience's behavior was also surprising to me, but not when you consider the practicality of getting 10,000 people to remain quiet for two hours. I felt like I was at a sporting event with all the hum and chatter of the audience, and they were not shy about showing their appreciation or enthusiasm for a particular piece or performer. By the end though, I got used to the noise and felt that it contributed somehow to the excitement in the air on the night of a performance.

One concert in Shenzhen stands out in my memory. In an old, rather run-down stadium, the pianos were set up center court. Someone (presumably at the request of the sponsors) had decided to suspend huge, inflatable 7-Up and Coke cans above our heads. I will never forget looking up and seeing those giant balloons waving in the air while hanging by threads and wondering what would happen if they fell on us. For that same performance, our Chinese manager had engaged a well-known Chinese television personality to be the master of ceremonies. A man with a gentle face and warm personality, he would give us elaborate introductions as we waited backstage. I would hear a quick patter of Chinese, and then something that sounded vaguely like my name. At that point, an assistant would push me out onto stage and I would be greeted by the roar of 10,000 excited audience members. It was all quite surreal.

3. Be a dry sponge.

As with many life experiences, in China you will absorb as much as you give. Come prepared to soak up the richness of this incredible and ancient country. Nothing prepared me for the assault on my senses: giant, sprawling cities like Beijing and Guangzhou, covered with smog so thick that it literally burned my lungs; open air markets that went on for miles with the most incredible array of fresh meats and fish, live animals for sale, spices, hundreds of varieties of bean-curd and the most incredible smells imaginable (both good and bad). The juxtaposition of old and new is unbelievable; times seems to have stood still in the rural areas, while in the cities, skyscrapers are going up faster than you can imagine and most people carry a cell phone. The streets in Beijing and Canton teem with mopeds and tiny cars spewing black smoke, while at the same time a peasant in a straw hat drives his cattle through the very same traffic. In the cities one finds tenement high rises in the cities, gray from the layers of smoke and pollution that stretch on for miles; just outside in the country, tiny thatched-roof huts house entire families, and farmers are still working the land with an ox and plow.

4. Leave your shy self at home.

The Chinese are warm, wonderful and social people. One of the first nights in the country, we drove through areas of Beijing, where entire communities were congregated outside on the streets, probably due to the intense heat. Groups of women were sewing by the dim light of street lamps, men were playing cards and drinking beer, while children played in the street; it all seemed like a giant backyard party. Life seems to go on in the streets, and the people never seem to be alone.

Those who can speak a little English are dying to practice the language and want to know all about a visitor's life. We gave endless radio and television interviews and were constantly approached on the street and asked to speak English. The people are gentle and open, and they love a guest who returns those qualities. Almost every night we were treated to banquets and huge festive dinners with various dignitaries, at which we were treated to eloquent and beautifully spoken toasts and acknowledgements. Noel had great success as our "toastgiver," as he practiced and perfected the art of gracious speaking.

4. Be prepared to hear "No."

I've never seen a society that existed with so many rules and regulations than that of the Chinese. Very often, we found ourselves needing answers from people who had little or no authority to make decisions. This would always result in endless discussions with the higher-ups in order to get even the simplest task completed. I was amazed that people are forced to live with such a complicated system of bureaucracy, and I wondered if all Chinese are confronted with such complex rules, or whether they are just imposed on the visiting Westerners. Often these arguments, which seemed to make little or no sense, would take on the air of a comic opera. For example: near the end of our second tour, Noel and I were eating in the restaurant of a rather nice hotel where we were staying. Although the Chinese food that we ate daily was always incredibly delicious and exotic, by this time the American in both of us was craving a hamburger or something Western. We took a look at the menu and decided to take a chance on the "Gold Sandwich," which was the house specialty. When we tried to order it, the waitress just shook her head, "No." Finally a group of managers appeared and a flurry of heated discussion ensued. Shortly thereafter one of our interpreters joined the debate. Apparently our group was not authorized to have that particular item on the menu; it was only for certain tour groups. Eventually they relented and we got the sandwiches which hit the spot.

This type of scenario happened on a daily basis. I tried to buy postcard stamps at the hotel, where they were advertised for sale. The man behind the reception desk told me that I would have to come back between 3-5pm (it was about 2:50pm), because that is when postcard stamps were sold. When I came back ten minutes later, the same man asked to see my postcards. When I showed them to him, he said "No," and refused to sell me stamps. Again, the interpreter showed up, and told me that I was unable to send the cards, because I had signed my name on the bottom right side of the card instead of on the left where the message belonged. Therefore they could no longer be considered postcards, and I would have to put them in envelopes and send them as letters, for which I could buy stamps the next day between 1-3pm.

5. Enjoy your special status.

As Western classical musicians we were honored with special treatment and lavish welcomes from mayors to hotel clerks. No matter how much we tried to convince people that we were not famous American pianists, they would not believe it! During our visit, our hosts treated us like Hollywood royalty. At some hotels, the staff would line up with flowers to greet us as we arrived. I signed more autographs than I will ever sign during the rest of my life, and sometimes people would even chase after our bus as we drove away from the concert. On our visit to Tiananmen Square (a powerful and must-see stop on anyone's list), we were surrounded by people wanting to touch us, and have their photo taken with our group. Old women would come up and hug me and touch my hair, and Noel's beard attracted a lot of attention and giggles from the women and girls.

I could recall endless anecdotes about my trip abroad and recount for days the richness of the journey. In a way, it would also be easy to write off this experience as an isolated event, something that happened half a world away with little relevance to American life. However, I have come to realize that these lessons have continued to nourish my present musical activity. Teaching at a small university in Western Kansas, I recently had the opportunity to organize a chamber music residency which brought live music into non-traditional venues in a rural area. In some ways I was surprised to notice that I faced the same challenges and issues as in China. In the course of putting the project together, I had to often remind myself to go with the flow and not to let a "no" stand in the way of my goals. The other musicians and I certainly found ourselves playing in less than ideal situations, reaching out to appreciative first-time audiences, and enjoying the novelty of bringing live music to out-of-the-way places. I believe that today classical musicians are often called upon to journey beyond the expected. We all must challenge ourselves to create opportunities in which we can contribute in meaningful and relevant ways to the world around us.


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© 2000 University of South Carolina School of Music