Q: How long does a harp stay in tune?
A: Twenty minutes, or until someone opens a door.
I've been neglecting my practicing of late as fall semester is coming to an end. (I have also been neglecting other normal day-to-day activities like eating and sleeping.) However, there is another reason I've been avoiding it... winter means chilly temperatures, and chilly temperatures mean uncooperative strings.
I'll admit it: I whine like a little kid when it comes to tuning. I know it's necessary, but it can be such a pain. During the winter I approach tuning with an even deeper sense of futility than usual, knowing the cold will wreak havoc with my strings. It's almost certain that once I've gotten the top C string in tune, the bottom one will have gone flat again.
But I think I'm starting to get the hang of it now. (She said, after five years of lessons...) When I started, I was just plain lazy about it. I would spend time practicing, but I never tuned it regularly. There were times I would leave it untuned for weeks in a row, which I now know is not good for the soundboard. Shame on me. Then on the few occasions I played in public I would freak out because I couldn't get it in tune fast enough, and naturally it wouldn't sound right with the other instruments that were in tune. (Well, duh.)
By this point, I have at least gotten into the habit of tuning it, if not every day, then at least every time I practice. I'm trying to stop looking at it as a chore and think of it as learning how to get my harp to sound its best no matter what the circumstances are.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
A miscellaneous little mix tape
I always love reading or hearing about what my favorite musicians are listening to, because they often have some really interesting things to say about why they like it. Vienna Teng made a post a few years ago back when she had first started her blog (her scrapbook, she calls it) in which she listed tracks she might include on a mix tape for anyone reading. I think you see where this is leading... although, unlike Vienna, I can't claim to have played with all the people who recorded these songs. (Lucky her.)
1. Emilie Autumn, "Manic Depression": Emilie is one of my absolute favorite artists because it is so very tricky to pigeonhole her. Her lyrics are always sharp and witty, but she's always experimenting with her singing style. However, this song features neither her lyrics nor her voice, but rather her prowess on the electric violin: this girl can shred.
2. Snow Patrol, "If There's a Rocket Tie Me to It": Snow Patrol is one of those bands whose albums I have always meant to buy and never got around to it. However, I may now just have to give in and snag a copy of A Hundred Million Suns. I heard this one morning on XPN a few weeks ago during the drive to work. I love the energy and the rhythm of it, but it was the lyrics that caught my ear--they're unusually vivid and visual.
A fire, a fire/You can only take what you can carry/A pulse, your pulse/It's the only thing I can remember/I break, you don't/I was always set to self destruct though/The fire, the fire/It cracks and barks like primal music
3. Kaki King, "Doing the Wrong Thing": The word virtuoso always gets tossed around when people talk about Kaki because of her acoustic guitar skills, but she's definitely branched out since her first album. She creates soundscapes--I can't think of a better way to put it. Her songs may not always have words that stick in my head or a melody I can tap my foot to, but they take me somewhere else. The inside of her head must be an interesting place.
4. Gillian Grassie, "Tamlin": When I looked at who Gillian listed in her influences and saw the title of this song, I admit I leaped to conclusions and assumed it was going to be some kind of Loreena McKennitt imitation, but she takes the traditional folktale and twists it around into something entirely unexpected and original.
Do you ever get that feeling of being infinite and small?/Like you're everything and nothing at all?/My love has become a burning coal/And I'm not sure I can hold/My love, he's become a glowing coal/And he burns me/And I hold
5. The Fratellis, "Milk and Money": Ah yes, another one of my very favorite bands. This is the last song on their second album, Here We Stand, and I was lucky enough to hear it live when I saw them a few months ago. Some critics haven't been that kind to this album, but I think it shows how much they've grown since Costello Music. To me, it's songs like this that prove they're much more than "that band that plays Chelsea Dagger."
And the last chance girl in the first dance swirl/Lays her head down on the wooden floor/Won't be dancing anymore/And where do they go when the thrills have gone?/And the last song plays down at babylon/Five hundred kids shout what's the deal?/It's a very confusing way to feel
6. The Animators, "Good to Be Here": I wish I'd gotten the chance to see these guys before they broke up, but at least they left behind them two albums of good solid power pop available for free download on their web site. One of the things I really liked about them was that so many of their songs were little stories, like this one.
I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling/Look who's back, I saw the doctor smile/Careful, we almost thought we'd lost you for a while/Cecilia was the last thing I remember/On the radio of the overturned car/How long have I been here?/I can't feel a thing/But I think I'm all right
7. Coldplay, "Cemeteries of London": I started listening to Coldplay much later than everybody else did. I got Viva La Vida three or four months after it was released, and enjoyed it much more than I expected. I really like the rhythm section in this tune and the lyrics, which seem like a departure for them in that they're not relationship-focused. Plus, I happened to be reading The Graveyard Book at the time, and this went very nicely as background music.
At night they would go walking 'til the breaking of the day/The morning is for sleeping/Through the dark streets they go searching to seek God in their own way/Save the nighttime for your weeping/Your weeping
8. Solas, "Vital Mental Medicine/The Pullet": With For Love and Laughter, the most recent addition to Solas's discography, Seamus Egan continues his tradition of doing scary things with a banjo, as well as his tradition of giving his original instrumentals puzzling and improbable titles. Personally, I still want to know what "Coconut Dog" is all about...
1. Emilie Autumn, "Manic Depression": Emilie is one of my absolute favorite artists because it is so very tricky to pigeonhole her. Her lyrics are always sharp and witty, but she's always experimenting with her singing style. However, this song features neither her lyrics nor her voice, but rather her prowess on the electric violin: this girl can shred.
2. Snow Patrol, "If There's a Rocket Tie Me to It": Snow Patrol is one of those bands whose albums I have always meant to buy and never got around to it. However, I may now just have to give in and snag a copy of A Hundred Million Suns. I heard this one morning on XPN a few weeks ago during the drive to work. I love the energy and the rhythm of it, but it was the lyrics that caught my ear--they're unusually vivid and visual.
A fire, a fire/You can only take what you can carry/A pulse, your pulse/It's the only thing I can remember/I break, you don't/I was always set to self destruct though/The fire, the fire/It cracks and barks like primal music
3. Kaki King, "Doing the Wrong Thing": The word virtuoso always gets tossed around when people talk about Kaki because of her acoustic guitar skills, but she's definitely branched out since her first album. She creates soundscapes--I can't think of a better way to put it. Her songs may not always have words that stick in my head or a melody I can tap my foot to, but they take me somewhere else. The inside of her head must be an interesting place.
4. Gillian Grassie, "Tamlin": When I looked at who Gillian listed in her influences and saw the title of this song, I admit I leaped to conclusions and assumed it was going to be some kind of Loreena McKennitt imitation, but she takes the traditional folktale and twists it around into something entirely unexpected and original.
Do you ever get that feeling of being infinite and small?/Like you're everything and nothing at all?/My love has become a burning coal/And I'm not sure I can hold/My love, he's become a glowing coal/And he burns me/And I hold
5. The Fratellis, "Milk and Money": Ah yes, another one of my very favorite bands. This is the last song on their second album, Here We Stand, and I was lucky enough to hear it live when I saw them a few months ago. Some critics haven't been that kind to this album, but I think it shows how much they've grown since Costello Music. To me, it's songs like this that prove they're much more than "that band that plays Chelsea Dagger."
And the last chance girl in the first dance swirl/Lays her head down on the wooden floor/Won't be dancing anymore/And where do they go when the thrills have gone?/And the last song plays down at babylon/Five hundred kids shout what's the deal?/It's a very confusing way to feel
6. The Animators, "Good to Be Here": I wish I'd gotten the chance to see these guys before they broke up, but at least they left behind them two albums of good solid power pop available for free download on their web site. One of the things I really liked about them was that so many of their songs were little stories, like this one.
I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling/Look who's back, I saw the doctor smile/Careful, we almost thought we'd lost you for a while/Cecilia was the last thing I remember/On the radio of the overturned car/How long have I been here?/I can't feel a thing/But I think I'm all right
7. Coldplay, "Cemeteries of London": I started listening to Coldplay much later than everybody else did. I got Viva La Vida three or four months after it was released, and enjoyed it much more than I expected. I really like the rhythm section in this tune and the lyrics, which seem like a departure for them in that they're not relationship-focused. Plus, I happened to be reading The Graveyard Book at the time, and this went very nicely as background music.
At night they would go walking 'til the breaking of the day/The morning is for sleeping/Through the dark streets they go searching to seek God in their own way/Save the nighttime for your weeping/Your weeping
8. Solas, "Vital Mental Medicine/The Pullet": With For Love and Laughter, the most recent addition to Solas's discography, Seamus Egan continues his tradition of doing scary things with a banjo, as well as his tradition of giving his original instrumentals puzzling and improbable titles. Personally, I still want to know what "Coconut Dog" is all about...
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Shaky fingers
Browsing a thread on Harp Column just now, I came across this post dated a few days ago. And it sounded very familiar...
"Help! I got roped into playing my harp at a small church function in a few days. I still classify myself as a beginner/intermediate, but I've never played for anyone. When I play this little Christmas carol alone, I do fine, but when I try to play in front of a friend or relative, I stumble and draw blanks. I'm afraid I'm going to make a fool of myself in front of a crowd. Tried to get out of it and told them I wasn't accomplished enough, but they wouldn't take no for an answer. Any words of comfort?"
My heart goes out to this person. Why? Because I am this person. Well, okay, not literally, but the situation is very, very similar. I almost never play in public because of this very same problem. I've got a bad case of stage fright where harp is concerned and have never quite gotten over it. I also used to get performance anxiety when I first started flute, but I got over it pretty quickly and played it in public (at church, mostly) for years without problems.
I'm not sure why it's so different with harp, but I can make an educated guess. Maybe it's because I started it pretty late, maybe it's because there are those pesky chords to deal with instead of just a straight melody line, but I'd be willing to bet that it's because I'm just not as confident in my ability. (And, frankly, I could stand to practice more.) Whenever I try to play in public, the fear that it won't be good enough is always lurking in the back of my mind. (Perfectionist, anyone?)
I do feel really sorry for the people who actually get sick from nerves, but that isn't my problem. When I get nervous, my hands shake like crazy, and as you might imagine, those strings suddenly become much harder to get hold of and my fingers just skitter right off them. That's so annoying that I'd honestly be relieved if I just got sick before I played. Then at least it would be out of my system, so to speak. (There are probably better ways of expressing that. Sorry.)
I wish there was a tidy way to tie this post up. I could tell a story about how I found a miraculous cure for this problem, but I'd be lying. I don't think I'll ever get rid of my nerves, not entirely anyway, so I guess the best I can do is figure out how to fake it.
Learning how to stop flinching whenever I make a mistake would be a start...
"Help! I got roped into playing my harp at a small church function in a few days. I still classify myself as a beginner/intermediate, but I've never played for anyone. When I play this little Christmas carol alone, I do fine, but when I try to play in front of a friend or relative, I stumble and draw blanks. I'm afraid I'm going to make a fool of myself in front of a crowd. Tried to get out of it and told them I wasn't accomplished enough, but they wouldn't take no for an answer. Any words of comfort?"
My heart goes out to this person. Why? Because I am this person. Well, okay, not literally, but the situation is very, very similar. I almost never play in public because of this very same problem. I've got a bad case of stage fright where harp is concerned and have never quite gotten over it. I also used to get performance anxiety when I first started flute, but I got over it pretty quickly and played it in public (at church, mostly) for years without problems.
I'm not sure why it's so different with harp, but I can make an educated guess. Maybe it's because I started it pretty late, maybe it's because there are those pesky chords to deal with instead of just a straight melody line, but I'd be willing to bet that it's because I'm just not as confident in my ability. (And, frankly, I could stand to practice more.) Whenever I try to play in public, the fear that it won't be good enough is always lurking in the back of my mind. (Perfectionist, anyone?)
I do feel really sorry for the people who actually get sick from nerves, but that isn't my problem. When I get nervous, my hands shake like crazy, and as you might imagine, those strings suddenly become much harder to get hold of and my fingers just skitter right off them. That's so annoying that I'd honestly be relieved if I just got sick before I played. Then at least it would be out of my system, so to speak. (There are probably better ways of expressing that. Sorry.)
I wish there was a tidy way to tie this post up. I could tell a story about how I found a miraculous cure for this problem, but I'd be lying. I don't think I'll ever get rid of my nerves, not entirely anyway, so I guess the best I can do is figure out how to fake it.
Learning how to stop flinching whenever I make a mistake would be a start...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
