Humboldt Workshop Day Five--Beethoven and Bolling

"A Bunch of  Bassoons"

My fifth and final day of the Humboldt Chamber Music Workshop was a rousing success. I was assigned a favorite--The Beethoven Septet--and in the evening, had a chance to play the Claude Bolling Suite for Flute and Jazz Piano. The day ended with a big party at the dorm--with lots of conversation and tasty shrimp, chocolate cake, and beer (and more). It was a fine way to end another inspiring and remarkable week.

I was thrilled to get to play one of my favorites on Friday. The Septet includes bass along with three strings: violin, viola, cello; and three winds: clarinet, bassoon and horn. At the workshop, every daily group includes a different set of folks, but this one was packed with special friends. We had a fine musical and social day rehearsing the fifth movement, Presto, under the wise and wisecracking guidance of coach Ed Harris. As usual, we started out with enthusiasm but in need of a lot of improvement as an ensemble and ended up with a polished performance when we played at the end of the afternoon session. It was probably my best day of the week.

After the evening program, I spend an hour and a half on the Bolling. I had tried playing this before, and worked a little on it independently, but this time, with Nikki's strong piano and Loren's buoyant flute playing, I felt like a real Jazz bassist--and could see clearly the amount of progress I've made in just a few short years. I made plenty of mistakes and needed several restarts, but overall, it sounded pretty darned good. We were tired but satisfied at 10:05 p.m. when we played the final note. I have the feeling I'm going to be working on this piece for a long time, each session with more understanding and competence.

This being the last day, we were treated to a very humorous set of three bonus tracks, including the Rhythm Rockettes' Rock Trap--a clapping, dancing number, and two wind performances. The first of these was Doug McCracken's Quintette for Bassoons and Contra-bassoon, which presented seven of these senior woodwinds together. Besides the hilarious honking of the contra-bassoon, all seven participants appeared barefoot--emulating the composer. Doug only wore shoes--sandals at that--when he was forced to follow cafeteria regulations. The third piece was P.D.Q. Bach's Fugue of the Volga Boatmen, with a stage full of winds. It made me think about perhaps next  year coming up with a duet (or duel?) with my bass and the contra-bassoon.

Another special treat was a much-too-short performance of the Finale part I of the Magic Flute. The singing of Connie, Ellie, Diane and Miriam was nothing short of breathtaking, in its German (with English translation supplied on the double-sided program). The audience, with jaws dropped, gave them the standing ovation they deserved. We need to have this again--perhaps at greater length--in the main program next time.

Music is the center of this workshop, but what remains as the biggest memory is the people. I had some connections from my 2010 stay, but I made many additional friends this time. When I sat and read through the programs for the performances in the afternoon and evening, I saw name after name of someone I'd played with in a group, sat with at a meal or met somewhere on the Humboldt campus. We are all drawn together because of our love of chamber music, and the camaraderie and spirit is like nothing I've experienced elsewhere.

There's also something about the inspired leadership of Workshop Director Alan Geier, whose warmth, humor and brilliant management make this one of the best run events I've ever attended. Everything just works, and once you arrive at the Humboldt State University campus, you know things will be fine and fun. He also made it possible for me to attend on a Heagy Fund scholarship this year when financial issues made it look like I'd have to miss it. For this I am very grateful, and I want to thank him personally--and everyone who labors tirelessly to make our experience so special, including Workshop Coordinator Tom Phillips. The Heagy Fund accepts your tax-deductible donations year round. Contact the workshop for details.

I am indebted to my classical music mentor, Josh Cohen, as well. He has guided me as a fledgling upright bassist from my first tentative notes at orchestra rehearsal on the second day of January, 2007. He urged me to sign up for my first weekend chamber music workshop at CMNC in 2008, and my first Humboldt adventure two years later. He has supported my growth and brought me into this new world of people devoted to playing this timeless music together.

I will miss my fellow musicians, but I can always plan for next year, and I go home inspired to do more sight reading, work on my intonation, and find more opportunities to fill my calendar with music dates until I can travel to the workshop again.

Day Four--Challenges and Rewards at Humboldt

Hermann Goetz

As I discovered last time I came up to the Humboldt Chamber Music Workshop, there is one day that is a little tougher, and Thursday, for me, was that day. The piece I was assigned, the Quintett by Hermann Goetz (1940-1876), was a little more challenging, and so there were a few areas that I really didn't have down when we went on stage to play the piece. I had to work a bit harder during the rehearsal periods, and although I liked the feeling of stretching my abilities that the tougher piece brought out, it still gave me a little anxiety.

I was playing with seasoned musicians, too, so I didn't want to slow them down. I had a time in the afternoon where I needed to go over a couple of sections and it was still tough. But I can see now the areas that I need to work on to make my sightreading and technique even better for next year. And it still felt wonderful to participate in a day of "work" and to attend an afternoon and early evening of remarkable performances.

In the evening, after dinner, I went to the library to assist with the music. I'd never been inside it before--just to its front window--so it was an adventure. There were rows and rows of piles and piles of carefully organized manila envelopes of music, arranged by category. The numbering system was devised, I assume, to help musicians determine where to look for what they wanted.

After refiling some envelopes, I helped Tom to put away music that belongs to the University collection. We made lots of progress, although the job remained unfinished when I left three hours later. It felt good to do something to help the Workshop.

I then joined the party, which was in full swing at 11 p.m. and went past midnight. Hard to believe that this little island of delight in the sea of life is approaching its final day. I took a little stroll after breakfast on Friday morning:

The century-old Humboldt campus is beautiful

Humboldt Day Three -- a Change of Pace

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor

The wise leaders of the Humboldt Chamber Music Workshop know that the extremely busy players need a little break in mid-event, so they have engineered Wednesday as a shorter day. By chopping out the afternoon practice session and scheduling the sampler program before dinner, they give attendees a chance to take a night off.

I had a great time with my extra evening, but first, it was a full day of music. I was assigned the Nonet in F minor by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor. I was thinking it was the poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, but the latter preceded the composer and is a completely different guy. Coleridge-Taylor, a product of an English mother and an African father, lived a short 37 years, but turned out a pretty good batch of music.

My first impression of the Scherzo, the piece we performed, was that it was spare for the bass. In truth, much of my part was runs of pizzicato (plucked) notes, but with some practice with my eight fellow musicians, it became interesting--and fun. The challenge was to play the runs properly-and in the right place. Because we occupied the main stage for our rehearsals, we got to go on first, so after a quick performance, we had the entire rest of the afternoon to sit and enjoy the other compositions.

Many were remarkable, but the one that stood out was Quintet by John Steinmetz (b. 1951). It started out with what sounded like the five winds tuning up and morphed into a drone piece, which was not only gorgeous but hypnotic. The crowd loved it. It's a real pleasure to see and hear the other groups' performances. Some apparently work out better than others, but we all know that sometimes the sound in the practice room doesn't get fully realized on stage. This is a workshop, and we tolerate the inevitable (and everpresent) imperfections. The different playing configurations let us get to know each other better each day.

After the performances, I treated myself to a 45-minute nap--I was bushed. But then, I took off with five others to the lovely Moonstone Grill, just a few miles up the coast, in Westhaven. We went there because it is a great restaurant with a sensational view, but also to remember a fellow chamber musician who is undergoing a bone marrow transplant now and who would much rather have been with us. We all hope he will be attending next year.

The food was wonderful. We shared crab rolls and oysters before the main course, which was beautifully prepared fish of various kinds. We also shared two bottles of Sauvignon Blanc from A to Z Wineworks. One of our party actually knows the owner of the winery, making it all the better.

We made it back by just after 8:30 p.m., in time to play more music. I had the distinct privilege to play two trio works for viola, cello and bass, a first for me. Thanks to Margaret, who knew the music and got it from the workshop library we three "lower strings" made beautiful music together. We played the Divertimento for Viola, Violoncello and Kontrabass by Anton Albrechtsberger and Leopold Hoffman's Trio Op. 1, Nr. 3.

The hour and a half flew by. The bass normally doesn't get to play with such a small configuration--I'm used to quintets as a minimum--but I've already played in a quartet and done these trios this week, besides the nonet from Wednesday, so who knows what the rest of the workshop holds?

A Double Dose of Schubert at Humboldt, Day Two

The Schubert Trout Quintet is a very famous and beautiful piece of music. Orchestral bass players often get to play it--or you may even say HAVE to play it--to satisfy the cravings of other musicians to play along with the biggest member of the string family.

Well, luckily, I LOVE the piece. I've already had two runs through it--and it's only Wednesday early morning.

The Piano Quintet in A major (Trout is really its nickname) is called that because it's based on a song Schubert wrote about the sad tale of a fish who struggles with the fisherman and dies (that's the thumbnail description). In reality, it is an achingly beautiful piece that gives a pianist and one representative from each member of the string family a workout.

My group met about 9 a.m. in our practice room to start. I was a little miffed because I had climbed the stairs to grab my bass, carried it all the way down to our morning meeting spot, only to find out that my assigned room was across the hall from my locker! Back up the stairs I went.

We quickly got down to business and the lovely sounds of the piece wafted through the room. After around 45 minutes, Daniela, our coach arrived. She did what good coaches do, and helped us identify areas we needed to work on (namely, all of it!). We selected the first movement and had to make a cut to get it down to a five-minute playing time. Then, we worked on the rough patches, and especially on the usual goal--playing well together.

We had no problem as people--I had a nice group-as I always seem to have. One of the many wonderful things about playing for five days in a row is that you get a different set of new friends each day. In this case, I had already played with two of the members and two were new to me. We worked through the piece in two morning and one afternoon practice sessions, broken up by our a.m. coffee break and lunch.

Strange for July--even in Northern California--was genuine rain--so our breaks were inside. I wore my porous and absorbent Levi jacket, but seemed to fare fine--it was not windy or particularly cold, so it just felt refreshing.

The joys of chamber music are great--if you like that kind of thing. We worked hard, but saw, over the day, our performance pick up speed, lock together, and by the end we were pretty happy that we had it down well. We drew the absolute final performance of the day, so we played after dinner. I wasn't sure I'd like that, but I had heard so much fine music by our turn that I was really in the mood.

After a brief reconnection before the evening session--and a few minutes in the green room, we stood backstage waiting, listening to a finely rendered trio just ahead of us on the other side of the curtain. Then, we strolled onto the stage for our turn.

It's funny that the stage looks far away from the seats but the people look close when you're up there. I glanced out briefly, but spent most of my time and attention on my music stand--and feeling my fingers on the familiar fingerboard of my bass as I listened and played along with our group. Nana, our violinist, counted us in and off we went!

The bass part has some wonderful half and whole note runs that flow below the more active melody parts that are incredibly enjoyable to play. One section, in the middle, is a piano solo, and I like to sing along with the part. One of my colleagues noticed this and teased me about it later (in a good-natured way, of course). Sorry, it's the Trout, and I can't help myself.

After our successful performance (we came back for a second set of bows), I went right behind the stage to a practice room to tackle Schubert's Octet. In this case, we played as a tiny orchestra, with violin, viola, cello, bass as well as oboe, bassoon, clarinet and horn (is that right?).

The piece is fairly long and twists and turns through slow and fast sections, but other than a few stops to re-sync ourselves, it flowed along nicely. I was pleased that all the players sounded good--and seemed to be having as much fun as I was. By around 10 p.m. we played the final notes, and smiles broke out everywhere. We had made it--and topped off another fine day of chamber music.

Then--two hours of drinking and snacking in the dorm meeting room. Ah, the college life!

Humboldt Chamber Music Workshop--Day One

Rossini

The chamber music workshop week always begins with a group meeting in the  main theater to learn the details of the week's activities and anything else you  might want to know to get around. This being my second time up here, I had a good idea of what to expect. Alan Geier, the workshop director, explained it all in his friendly, humorous way, welcoming us back--and helping to relax the newcomers. We learned where to get the music (the music library), details of the schedule, Do's and Don't's, things to watch out for, and the rest.

Then, we were released to go crowd around the posted lists of who's playing what with whom where. I got assigned to some Rossini quartets that include bass, in the Art Building. Luckily, it's just across from the main theater, but I still had to climb up the Music Building stairs (no elevator during construction) and grab my bass before I went there. But I arrived and found my musical companions.

One of the many beauties of the workshop is that you play a different piece, with different people, each day. Also, the professional coaches rotate, too, so you get the guidance of different experts. Since I'm the only bassist signed up (as usual) there is never a "bass coach," but our cellist coach was great at guiding the group to play well together.

First, we looked at the three Rossini quartets on our music stands and then decided on one to run through. We then isolated the particular section we would be devoting the day's efforts to "perfecting" and went with that. You have to do this to get good enough at it to do well in the afternoon recital.

Gioachino Rossini is best known for his opera, The Barber of Seville, and the piece we worked on had an operatic quality, with expressive voices from the different instruments. The violin even gets to "laugh." I had two sections of solo work that I was able to pull off during the afternoon performance. Whew.

Things started coming together and improved over the day. We had our first session, then took a break in the courtyard with coffee and snacks. I've always liked this part, both for the social pleasures but also to get a break for my hands--and my eyes. Unfortunately, I am the ONLY person who stands all day, and this is more standing. I really should find someplace to sit down.

I lollygagged a little longer, and found my cohorts already there when I returned. We worked on our quartet--two violins, a cello and me on bass--through until lunch, with direction from Carol, our coach. It's hard sometimes to sync your playing with the other musicians--but therein lies beauty and satisfaction. We gradually tune in to the others. Intonation improves, the speed increases, we get more even, and play sections in which we share the melody or pattern in the same way so it sounds euphonious.

In the afternoon, we played late in the first of the two hourly sessions. Just after we played, we went off to dinner. It seems like there's lots of eating at these events. The food is OK--but it is "dorm fare" and I heard some grumblings about the consistency and flavor of the chicken. We went back for another hour of fine performances--every group seemed to be aware of the five-minute rule so it rolled through. Then--off to freelancing.

Freelancing gives you a choice to play what you want when you've completed your daily assignment. I played the Schubert's Trout Quintet--a favorite of chamber music players because of its beauty and also it seems to be the first piece anyone thinks of that includes a bass. We bassists are not in the center of chamber music but on the periphery. So--I'm glad to play it, and usually, at least one of the five of us is doing it for the first time--exciting and challenging. We played it fairly slowly, but the group focused and really heated up the room. At last, it came to its satifying conclusion and we packed up and headed back to the dorms for a little alcohol, snacks and conversation.

And so ended the first day. Today, we do it all over again.

Humboldt Chamber Music Workshop--Arrival

Here I am in my dorm room at the Humboldt Chamber Music Workshop at Humboldt State University! The trip up, around 250 miles, seemed like it would take forever, but it suddenly was over. We grabbed a quick meal at the Burger King on the way, saw some fine scenery through the van windows, and enjoyed some musical selections from my orchestra conductor/friend Josh. I rode up with Josh and his wife Genevieve to save gas and automotive wear and tear--and for the companionship.

We stopped at the Solar Living Institute for a break a couple hours into the trip. It features educational displays on sustainable living and a store full of cute and interesting stuff.

There are some wineries and rows and rows of vines along part of the trip. Trees--so many--especially the wonderful Richardson Grove of redwoods. Willits is cute. Eureka is kind of a letdown after the gorgeous scenery but it's full of the urban experience--in small scale.

Once I arrived it was a quick and easy check-in. I got my decorative and useful badge at table in the dorm, went to get a king-size locker for my bass, and got a cable for my computer. Unlike last time, this year I'm blogging the whole thing!

My room is much like the one I had last time, two years ago. Two tall, natural-wood single beds with stashing space underneath.  Twin dressers and desks.  Cement block walls that give a little of a prison vibe--but there's nothing depressing about being here. Soon, we'll be playing music, sharing meals in the Jolly Giant Dining Hall (The J), and freelancing in the evenings.

It's summer camp for grownups, really. Away from the troubles and cares of the normal week, you can concentrate on the task at hand--rehearsing chamber music during the day with a different small group each day, sharing five minutes of it with your fellow workshop attendees in the afternoon, and after dinner, playing some more.

I was amazed when I attended the workshop two years ago that my hands never got sore, even with the hours of bass playing. It's because I was so HAPPY, I guess. I'm beaming in the group photo. So, I have every reason to expect more of the same this time.

Stay tuned.