6.10.09




3 σχόλια:

Ritva είπε...

have i told you that my father was a composer, a musician. he was a trumpeter.
he wanted to teach me how to become one. but my lungs didn´t want to, they were and are too weak.
people have told me that as a child i knew how to read notes before letters. i have forgotten.
when i see notation, i think of migratory birds on a wire.

Finn είπε...

What I would like to do, is to read a music script like a book. Sometimes, I handle it quite adequately.

Before a concert or exams, there was an exercise that my teacher had advised me to do: sit on a couch and play, the hands touching the air, the music still present inside.

Another exercise: play with only the one hand and sing the notes of the other (usually the right hand's melody). Not a taratataa, or a boum boum boum, that can hardly convey the personal feeling about the music.

Progressively, voice hands air mind get familiarized with their task to cooperate.

This morning I heard on the radio a tale for children. It was about faith, perfection and imperfection, about wisdom, about music and about love.

Ritva είπε...

thank you for telling all this <3