One Down May 16 Sunday
Yesterday was a long day. It actually started the night before when Luke, our Alaskan malamute decided he was going to howl all night - non-stop. It seemed that no amount of anything could get him to stop.
The session started at high-noon. After a quick warm-up it was off to the studio. Being an exceptionally nice day made it even less enticing to spend the afternoon in the windowless crypt. But all that being said, it was the time. It is always a challenge to sit alone in a room and generate enthusiasm without overplaying; and to know the microphones combined with the design of the room will surely capture every nuance.
The Classic 127 performed flawlessly. The studio environment will exaggerate any flaws. It was my first opportunity to really listen to the instrument - with the exception of occasional recitals by Jim with assorted selections from Palmer Hughes Books One and Two.
I have talked about all of this being backward. I feel am a bit like Merlin. I stopped playing stradella in about 1962 and made the migration to all-bassetti instruments in1967. So after almost 40 years, I am back doing what I did as a pre-teen and early teen. I must say that it is fun and something I missed. I am still playing the bassetti repertoire, but the stradella is balancing it. I alternate repertoire on practice days. So maybe I am in some type of second childhood. I also enjoy playing the stradella repertoire on a true stradella rather than on the dual system bassetti. With the exception of the works by Gregory Stone, I played most of the selections I am recording before I was 14.
The engineer was first an excellent musician with a good ear, and second a highly skilled craftsman. That is the perfect combination. It was fun telling him about my favorite rock groups from the 60's, but when I was disappointed he didn't recognize them he would remind me he wasn't even born yet. So I switched to telling him what I thought about when I was playing parts of the songs. Like I Remember Grandma by Gregory Stone where I imagine being on a Merry-Go-Round or on the horse race ride at Coney Island's Steeplechase Park. And the end of Malaguena with the sequence of C# Major Cords with the grace note where I am reminded of the cat food commercial that went "Meow, meow, meow, meow."
I stuck a clip of the raw track of I Remember Grandma by Gregory Stone at the top of this page. I recorded Gregory's entire works right before I left Los Angeles for New York. Only one of the albums was released - the compositions for accordion and orchestra where Gregory played the orchestra parts on piano. With the exception of Concerto Breve, those were all written for free bassetti. The album with all his stradella works was never released. Most of them were technically challenging if played to the tempi Gregory wanted. I Remember Grandma would have been on the second album. I don't know why, but I always found the title wonderfully amusing and would have liked the song for that reason alone.
And this reminds me of a story - and perhaps there might even be a correlation. While at West Point I was sometimes responsible for coordinating rock bands to play for the cadet dances. Even though Eisenhower Hall Ballroom was a big room, there was always concern and even contractual language about the sound levels of all entertainment. Several of the staff members would remind band members of these limitations before they even played the first note during a sound check, threateningly waving a sound pressure meter in front of them. In contrast, I would wait for them to set up and start to do their sound check. After a few moments, I would stop them and say something like, "you know, these kids like a lot of sound. Hopefully you have more to offer than that." Smiles would come across their faces as they cranked the amps up to 11. The ballroom soaked sound like a sponge and I would repeat my request a few times. Drenched in sweat and with amps and voice coils hot enough to fry eggs they would generally figure out what I was about and return to a reasonable level.
That is probably what Gregory was doing to me. "But it really needs to be a bit more spirited." I am sure he is sitting at his Grotrian-Steinweg in the sky with a big smile on his face wondering if I will ever figure it out.
No Fear May 17 2010, Monday
Several months ago I was speaking with an old friend about starting to play the accordion once again. He is on a similar journey. I remarked that my goal was to play as well as I did when I was 14! He laughed and said he had the same goal. We agreed that at 14 you just didn't have any fear. You just went for it.
I devoured music in those days. Today I love looking at the end-covers of old accordion music - the place where publishers list other songs in the series. "Other great arrangements by - [insert name here]." With few exceptions, I played everything from the series. There was the purple and pink-covered Magnante series with pieces like Holiday for Chords and Holiday for Bases. Another series had Dark Eyes, Midnight in Paris. Another had the classical pieces. And that is just Magnante. The lists go on forever. Dale Wise literally has file cabinets full of accordion music with surprisingly few duplicates. Accordion music publishers must have done very well in those days.
A good piano student will also devour sheet music, but with an enormous difference in the selection of available repertoire. If I read the program notes correctly, Evgenny Kissen played the Chopin Piano Concerto he was playing with National Symphony Orchestra when he was 12 years old. His substitute for Holiday for Chords and Holiday for Bases are Beethoven Sonatas, Chopin Ballads, and Liszt Hungarian Rhapsodies.
I can pick up a Magnante or Galla-Rini arrangement today and sight read it. Is it possible the technical requirements for those pieces parallel an accomplished pianists' technical requirements for a Beethoven sonata?
When I started playing bassetti as a high-school sophomore I was literally learning a new instrument. However, there was minimal thought to technical progression. I took people like Julio Giulietti and Mort Herald literally at their word - being able to play the great masters exactly as written; and it was my intent to do just that. I wanted to play Ravel Jeux d'eau, Liszt Transcendental Etudes, Chopin Etudes. Right now. That was what I set out to do. When I switched from stradella to bassetti I was playing some of the most technically demanding repertoire available at the time and felt I needed to do the same thing with bassetti. But the thing I didn't fully comprehend was that I had switched from accordion repertoire to piano repertoire. Things of moderate difficulty on piano may be fiendishly difficult when played on an accordion. Competition also reinforced the need to play the most technically difficult music.
I am sure Evgenny can easily recall a piano concerto, Beethoven sonata, or Chopin Scherzo. For him they are at a technical parallel to me picking up an arrangement of Midnight in Paris.
As the years passed and the technical competency on bassetti improved, my understanding of what was feasible and practical also improved. In the early years it was not unusual to work a full year on a competition piece for the Nationals. Much of that time was spent mastering the technical detail. Unfortunately, many times the final product did not balance the effort. Tito changed that when he started writing original compositions for the instrument. Galla-Rini changed that when he started doing transcriptions for the free bassetti. Today I can work through the technical requirements of a piece in relatively short order, though there will usually be a maturation period before I am ready to perform it.
I consider myself a pioneer on free bassetti in the US. It is certainly a different world now, and to be honest, I don't know if my US generation had that much influence. But I sometimes think some of the things we attempted may have provided a more thorough insight of some of the instrument's and player's ultimate limitations and what it took to blast through those - whether or not the final result was worth the effort or even sustainable.
In some ways, I just don't think there was any fear.
How Did We Ever Survive? May 19 2010, Wednesday
In preparing for the stradella album I mentally dredged back through a lot of music from my past, though I have very few remaining copies of the actual sheet music. Some was used by students and never returned and I gave the rest to someone thinking I would never have need for it again. When your musical tastes have turned to Bach, Scarlatti, Chopin, Beethoven, Liszt, Brahms, Mozart, Debussy, and even some Stravinsky, how could you ever imagine a need for Magnante or Galla-Rini arrangements?
The first accordion person I met when I started to play again was Dale Wise. The first time I went to Dale's home I was thrilled to discover he had an enormous collection of accordion sheet music. Titles started coming to my mind and he started pulling them from well-organized file cabinets. Each title brought back a different set of memories. I thought of the challenges that often accompanied a new piece, where I might have played them, and the teacher I was studying with at the time.
I was recently talking with Lou Capolla about Rudy Molinaro, one of the East Coast's grand pedagogues of the accordion. I knew of Rudy primarily through occasional sightings at festivals and the obligatory Giulietti Artist 8 x 10 photos. He was also Stephen Dominko and Lou's teacher. Julio used to talk about how Rudy would carry on during the course of his lessons, ranting and waving his arms around like a wild man. Julio's description usually was half in Italian and included a lot of arm waving. Anyway, I wanted to ask Lou if this was really true. He confirmed that Julio had not been exaggerating, that Rudy could become very animated.
Then we started talking about other characteristics of our teachers - things we didn't give any thought too at the time, but are now the source of some great amusement. They say the sense of smell is one of the most powerful in the recall of specific memories. The smell of a new accordion always brings back a flood of pleasant memories. But if there were a smell associated with much of my time spent in accordion studios, it would be - - - smoke. I was reminded of that when Lou told me about how Rudy could have several cigarettes going at the same time, especially when he got really excited. He often forgot he had one already burning in the ash tray and light another one.
Actually, only a couple of my teacher's smoked. The most memorable were Glen Stead and Tito. Mr. Stead (we were never encouraged to call him by his first name) smoked a pipe. I remember sitting in my lessons, watching him go through the ritual of cleaning out the bowl, filling it with tobacco, tamping it down, and lighting it, filling the room with the wonderful aroma of pipe tobacco.
On the other hand, Tito smoked. Cigarettes. He sat next to his student before a small spinet which served as a music stand. The ashtray overflowed. In contrast to Mr. Stead, he could get the cigarette lit without ever missing a beat or interrupting a hand gesture. It was part of his constant flow of energy.
I am sure this prepared me for the several years I played in bars. The most memorable bar was in Woodstock, New York. The owner used to brag about the state-of-the-art smoke filters but I don't think they really did that much. One night my Hammond (I never took my accordions to a bar) developed some weird problem I couldn't resolve on the spot, so I stuck it in the back of my pickup and took it home. I unloaded it in the basement before retiring for the night. I woke the next morning with the acrid smell of the bar permeating the entire house. What was most amazing was that I don't know what part of a Hammond Organ would retain the smell. I couldn't get it back out of the house fast enough.
Times have changed. In 2010 can't imagine a teacher smoking in a studio.
Only by the Month or Pay as You Go May 20 2010, Thursday
Over the years I have taken private lessons with quite a few different teachers. I have always found it interesting and sometimes amusing how they approach the question of being paid for their services. It is also fun to recall how some interacted with their students.
Some teachers charged by the lesson. You show up. You take your lesson. You pay. You leave. The lesson environment is generally pretty consistent. Other teachers charged by the month; and there was certainly the opportunity for some variety here. My first teacher who charged by the month was Tito. In the 5-lesson-week month you got an extra lesson for free. But if you cancelled, there was no make up. If it was a 4-lesson-week month you got a make up lesson. Sylvia handled the business details. Tito was pretty much oblivious to it all. He just concentrated on teaching.
However, when I studied piano with Edith Oppens it was quite different. She charged by the month in advance, but you paid for the number of lessons you would take. None of this free-lesson stuff. And Edith took care of all her own business transactions. It was interesting on how her view of your progress could improve the week where you paid for the next month. There were always words of encouragement, how much you accomplished; the rest of the time, not as much enthusiasm. Non-music friends would ask how I could justify going to New York City twice a week and pay such a premium price for lessons. After all, I could have studied with Mrs. Gertsniffer (hopefully you realize this is not a real person), Cornwall's local piano teacher for one-fifth the cost and with no commute. But the time with Edith was worth the investment.
I took my own shot at establishing a fee structure for lessons. I told the mother of a prospective student that I charged by the mistake. I used it as an incentive for the student to practice. I suggested that she send her son to the lessons with a bag of quarters. He would be assessed a penalty for each mistake, and the amount assessed would be determined by the size of the mistake. A small bloop could be a mere twenty-five cents. A really big goof could be a dollar or even more. When the money ran out, the lesson was over. I explained it was an incentive for the student to practice. If he was prepared and made no mistakes, he could pocket the money, or use it to buy additional sheet music or even a metronome. If he didn't practice at all, he could be out of the lesson in no time at all and sent home to practice. I think her son was disappointed when I finally told his mother I was only kidding. He had already been thinking of ways he could spend the money.
Fast and Loud Competition May 21, 2010
In my early years at West Point there was a Steinway C in a very attractive reading room in the old cadet Library. It was a well-appointed room with relatively good acoustics and the location for many chamber concerts. However, the Steinway had the reputation of being a real beast. It had been a gift to the Academy many years previous and was rebuilt by Steinway & Sons during World War II. As such, the bass strings were steel wound rather than copper. The action was also one of the heaviest and stiffest I have ever played. It was infamous to all who played it.
A wife of one of the permanent language professors had an international reputation as a concert pianist, specializing in South American piano repertoire. She claimed she actually cracked two ribs in the course of one solo recital.
Pianists with knowledge of the instrument's characteristics were careful not to injure themselves during the course of a rehearsal or performance. But teaming with the Glee Club's accompanist, Ruthanne Schempf, we decided there was also some kind of additional challenge here; that we were destined to design a competition that would truly challenge a pianist's ultimate strength and endurance; and it should be named the "Fast and Loud" Competition.
Another influence in this agenda was Chuck Carter, who used to accompany me to Edith Oppens’ weekly Sunday master classes that she conducted for her students. After one of Edith's graduate students had completed a remarkable performance the Schubert Wanderer, she was asking the group questions about the tempo he had selected for the slow movement. She was fishing for someone to say that he had played it too fast. No one was ready to say anything so she called on Chuck. She knew he was never without comment. She asked him what he thought. Without hesitation Chuck replied, "It was way too slow." The students gasped in disbelief and there was a look of genuine surprise on Edith's face. He continued, "At that tempo it just takes longer to get back to the fast and loud parts. And that's all people really want to hear anyway."
And maybe some of this is truer than we want to admit. Sometimes we sit through a long boring piece just to see what the player will do with the double octaves at the end of the coda. Or watch a gymnastics routine just to see the dismount. Or wait through an entire act just to see the ballerina's fouettes.
So the Fast and Loud Competition is designed to cut to the chase. And it is certainly something that could be added to the format of current accordion competitions. No muss, no fuss, just get to the good stuff.
In addition to Fast and Loud there could be several sub categories. There could be Fast. There could be Loud. For fast nothing under allegro. For loud, nothing under fortissimo. There could also be a non-reed-noise-category, which could include, but not be limited too: banging on the accordion body, banging on the grill, making noises with parts of the accordion other than the reeds, and making noise with the accordion using the reeds but without pressing any keys, which could be called the reed-noise-without-pressing-the-keys-or-buttons category. The possibilities are without limit.
See what happens to my mind when the second half of the recording session is postponed for a couple days?
As a post script, the Steinway C was eventually rebuilt and moved to Eisenhower Hall. The new cadet library has a Young Chang.
Standardization Sunday May 23, 2010
I have a great time with eBay and have several items I watch regularly; Giulietti Accordions being one of them. I was surprised to see two Giulietti dual system bassettis appear on eBay within a matter of several hours a couple days ago. They are from different parts of the country, and though they are both Classic Continentals, just by looking at the photos one can see they are quite different.
This raises questions, some from a curiosity standpoint, and others from a practical or even critical standpoint. Curiosity: you have some kind of interest in Giuliettis and are killing some time surfing the internet. Practical: you want to learn to play bassetti (and have made up your mind that you must have a Giulietti). Critical: you have developed motor-skill proficiency on the bassetti system and are looking for a weapon of choice.
When I started playing again about a year ago, it wasn't too long before I decided I wanted to play bassetti in addition to stradella. At my age it is easier to recall ingrained muscle memory than developing something new - and the further back in age one can go to draw upon learned motor skills, the better. I knew the closer I could get to what I originally played, the faster the ramp-up time. So I started on my quest to find a Giulietti dual system.
I started on one of the original bassettis Julio brought into the US in about 1961. It used a mechanical system similar to the Gola. It had pedestal buttons for the bassetti system. It also had a 5-row stradella instead of the traditional 6-rows. The lowest note was G. The alignment between stradella and bassetti was straight across for the C's. The second instrument had the new left-hand mechanism design. The depth of the box was reduced. The stradella returned to 6-rows. The low note was E. The alignment was the same. After that came the 5-row bassetti with 2-row stradella. The alignment between the systems was the same.
One thing that was always consistent (or at least I think was consistent) was the key size. 41-key, 43-key, 45-key. The size of the keys was the same, resulting in a longer keyboard as notes were added. The newer instruments I have played with extended keyboards have a reduced key-size to minimize the added length of the keyboard. I would find that very hard to get used too.f
So I sometimes wonder at the variation in all these instruments, even among the same brand. The relationship between left hand keyboards on my 6/3 Super is different than the 5/4. If you are playing both left hand keyboards at the same time, this does make a difference.
So I guess it comes down to a couple considerations. If you are only playing one accordion it doesn't really matter. If you are playing a 5-row stradella, you adjust to it. You intuitively know what you need to do. But if you are switching back and forth between a 5-row and 6-row stradella, it can be a bigger concern. Change the relationship between left hand keyboards and it adds another dynamic. And there is also the element of technical proficiency. If you are clomping around looking for notes in either system, it doesn't really matter. If you are higher on the proficiency scale, you are relying on muscle memory.
The thing I am sorting out now is the ability to quickly recall different systems. Over the years I have ridden a lot of different motorcycles. Prior to 1975, the shift patterns and location of the controls were not standardized. I had bikes with right and left hand shifts and different shift patterns - sometimes I would ride one to work in the morning and switch to another in the afternoon. My mind and feet just adapted. I never gave it much thought. But when I started riding as a teen, every bike I rode had a different pattern. So that was part of the learned memory. Could one master the ability to switch left hand systems with the same ease?
So what about the person who purchases one of the dual system bassettis off eBay? Will they realize that one of those instruments is a 5-row stradella or is it something they will discover the first time they play it? Who will explain how to use the 5-row stradella to them? But these are topics for other blogs.
Recording May 25, 2010 Tuesday
It's back in the studio tonight to continue work on the stradella CD. I am glad this session is in the evening as that is really when I like to play. I also like early mornings, but most studios go too late for their staff to welcome that option.
Recording sessions are a real question of stamina - not as much physical stamina, but the ability to maintain focused concentration. What can make this even more difficult is the necessity to start and stop. Whether practicing or playing, I am generally operating at a very high level of concentration and adapting to what I am hearing or feeling kinesthetically is an extremely fast paced mental process. The process is ongoing and has a synergistic effect. There are some real differences in how each individual makes this happen. For me, it is a meticulously calculated process.
Over the years, I have found one of the most difficult things to teach a student is mental concentration that is sustained throughout a piece or even through a sequence of pieces. But in a similar fashion to motor skills, the mental skill of concentration improves over the years (if one works at it). Hopefully I am thinking of a piece as a whole, how it fits together, the tempo, harmonic rhythm, the sequence. I want to create the music as a result of what I am hearing in my mind. I am not thinking about individual notes or the technical demands to play them. The technical facility required to make it happen shouldn't really be a consideration. It is a given.
So for me, tonight's challenge will be in maintaining the concentration.
Fries With That? May 27 2010, Thursday
My recording session two nights ago was cancelled. There was a scheduling conflict with a rock band desperate to finish their album. So we are back to next Saturday afternoon.
A friend turned me on to his web site a couple days ago. The primary focus is food and the site featured an assortment of great recipes and accompanying pictures with a beautifully written blog. The look and feel of the web site was bright and fresh, so completely different than the themes of black, orange and yellow on my own site.
There are countless anecdotes of the culinary abilities of many great artists, such as Balanchine personally preparing dinner for Stravinsky. All one has to do is turn on Martha Stewart to see every kind of celebrity imaginable triumphing with feats in food.
In contrast, I once prepared a chicken only to have Thumper, one of my Chows, refuse to eat it for 24 hours to wait and see if I died from it. And how many guests would be interested in a main course that consisted of peanut butter and Doritos sandwiches?
One time I was at my weekly lesson with Edith Oppens when she abruptly shooed me out of her New York City apartment on Riverside Avenue. I was in the middle of a Beethoven Sonata and she said to go get lunch and come back in an hour. When I returned she asked where I had eaten. She was aghast when I told her Burger King. "How can you go from playing Beethoven to eating at Burger King?"
I am lucky that Jim is such a superb cook and he likes to cook. However, food is not that important to me. It is rare that I get excited about having a long, extended meal, with or without friends. It's not that I don't eat well; I don't eat fast food - haven't eaten at a McDonald’s in at least 20 years. I also don't like junk food. I also don't crave variety. I can eat the exact thing every day and be perfectly content. Eating is just something I want to be done with. There are too many other things to do.
Many musicians are gifted in a variety of artistic venues. In addition to their musical talent they also paint, cook, draw, design, or sew, whatever. In this regard I am a total failure. I have no artistic skill in graphic arts (unless it is something involving a computer), can't dress, have no sense of fashion, and am not allowed on a dance floor - at least not more than once with any one person.
I have always been more interested in things that go fast, or make noise. I love motorcycles, drag racing, and amusement parks.
I used to worry about all this. I would get concerned when someone would tell me I really shouldn't wear my engineer boots with white tie and tails, or that jeans and a Harley T-Shirt were not appropriate for opening night at Lincoln Center (unless it was a Mahler concert).
I once did a one-year experiment when I was at West Point in reaction to a new fad of ridiculously high-priced jeans. I wanted to wear a single pair of black Levis and a black sweat shirt for one full year. (Obviously I had to wear appropriate attire when I was conducting). I kept them perfectly clean, washing every day when I needed too - but I wanted to show that I could spend less than $25.00 for a year's wardrobe. My experiment was cut short by one month when I left West Point for a position with Motorcycle Safety Foundation - who had a dress code of shirt and tie.
So an appreciation of good food and fine dining is something I did not inherit from Galla-Rini, Tito or Julio. I once got Galla-Rini to go to a McDonald’s. The way he handled the greasy hamburger wrapped in fake wax paper and the salty fries in the small bag was priceless. I would wager that he never repeated the experience.
Aftermath May 30, 2010
We did the rest of the tracks for the CD yesterday. I am posting some pictures in the gallery and on Facebook. Next comes the process of adjusting the final mix, deciding on the sequence, and figuring out the remaining the details, like graphics and liner notes.
This recording project has reinforced some of my earlier dialogues about stradella vs. bassetti; not exclusive to the musical capabilities, but differences in the actual accordions and how you play them. I don't have experience with the newer converters, but with my dual system instruments, there is such an enormous difference with the response in the lower reeds of the left hand, not to mention the physical difference in size. Even if you are playing the exact same piece, the approach is different, and the final result is different. Not better or worse, but different. At this point I also can't see putting one up at the expense of the other. In this regard, I don't think Julio was right, as his focus became exclusively bassetti in the years following it's introduction. Free bass certainly offered some new musical palettes, but was it worth denial of everything else the instrument was about?
As a kid growing up I was blessed to have parents who supported my accordion endeavors. But being a family of relatively modest income, I was lucky to have one good accordion. In the final years before I stopped, I finally got a second accordion; but the two were nearly identical. Through the internet I have had a wonderful time looking at the magnificent things young accordionists are doing throughout the rest of the world. Many of them play several different styles, perhaps a bayan (converter) and a smaller stradella, or a bandoneon. The potential versatility is enormous. It is like what I was telling Julio I wanted to do toward the end of my previous career in 1978 when I said I wanted a stradella to balance my all-bassetti instruments. With the re-introduction of the 127 I can now have my Giulietti stradella and play it too.
When I started playing again my initial craving was for a stradella. Only after I started to satisfy that need did I realize I also wanted to play bassetti. It was something else I wanted to do.
I took Elizabeth to the session yesterday. When I had finished the final track on Sebastian, I pulled her from her case and asked Jeff to start a new track and let it run. I originally thought I might do something where I segued from one instrument to the other, but it was too late in the day to experiment. I played Jerusalem and the second movement of my Sonata. I am posting one of the tracks on the Accordions page. Elizabeth is starting to open up; realize she has not been tuned in at least 25 years - so she is a work in progress. She is just starting to stretch her wings (reeds?) and fly.
Accordionists and Teacher's Guild May 24 2010, Thursday
I am scheduled to play at the 70th Anniversary of the Accordionists Teacher's Guild at the annual festival in Santa Clara, California, July 22-25. The last time I attended the ATG festival was in about 1979. If I remember correctly it was in St. Louis. I was the head judge for the National Competition and played at the concert with Mogens Ellegard.
I am quite excited as I have strong ties to the ATG. In 1964, 1965, and 1966 I was the ATG National Champion and represented them at the Coupe Mondiale in Toronto, Malta, and Versailles.
I always felt comfortable around the ATG. During my competition years I was studying with Tony Galla-Rini, one of the founding members. But two other people hold a prominent place in my early ATG memories; Lari and Fred Holzhauer.
In the 1960's, Lari and Fred were described by Galla-Rini as the fabric that held the ATG together. They were an older couple and always made me think of Fred and Ethyl on I Love Lucy. They provided an administrative continuity to the ATG through cycles of numerous Presidents and yearly festivals. When Lari and Fred were onsite, you knew things were under control.
As Galla-Rini is so fondly recognized the President Emeritus of the ATG, perhaps Fred and Lari should be nominated as the Grandparents in Perpetuity. I have never been able to figure out or uncover any financial motive that drove their desire to support the ATG. They weren't selling accordions or promoting their own students. But they were always ready to help - sometimes in ways beyond the call of duty.
One event I distinctly remember is when Lari tried doing a little match-making between myself and a young player from Wisconsin. It finally culminated when she flew out to visit me in California during summer break, cousin in tow. I was disappointed when she showed up without her accordion. I thought we were going to sit around and practice all day. She thought we were going to go to Disneyland, Knott's Berry Farm, tour of the Star's homes, and the beach.
Another time I remember discussing travel reimbursement from one of the trips to the Coupe. The accordion in the case was over the weight limit, but Lari was convinced the problem was how I was packing my underwear. Being a true Virgo I wanted it all organized and folded neatly, but she was insisted it was better to wad it up and cram it in. I don't know how that would have reduced the weight, but in retrospect what I really don't know is how she would have known how I packed my underwear anyway. Maybe it is one of those grandmother things.
But I did know that I knew things would be okay with Fred and Lari. As a young player, they always made me feel comfortable and for many years I associated their image with the ATG. But the sense of giving and doing what was right in support of the accordion and the people who played it seemed to be the defining characteristic of the ATG. It still seems like a good plan to me. And I still fold my underwear when I travel.
Accordion Heroes June 1 2010, Tuesday
After a great 4-day weekend, it is back to work this morning, complete with the long ride in the back of the commuter van. But thanks to my netbook, it gives me a dedicated time to write the blog.
I finished recording the CD tracks Saturday and was amazed at how drained I felt for the rest of the weekend. Live performance has the opposite effect for me. Now it is time to select a CD title that fits with the content, figure out the sequence, artwork, liner notes, and all that other stuff. It's back to the studio tonight to do some final editing.
A few blogs ago I talked about a visit from a young Wisconsin accordionist I had met at the ATG competition. I thought we were going to spend the days practicing and playing for each other. She arrived with her cousin sans accordion and was more interested in the beach and local attractions. I was enormously disappointed.
In contrast, George Mandala had started lessons with Tito about a year before me. Along with Johnny LaPadula, he was one of my heroes. He won the top open honors at the Western States Accordion Festival the year before me and was a spectacular example of the 'new breed' of young accordionists. His technique was dazzling and he had it all; good looks, showmanship and stage presence. He also played the entire repertoire - classical, jazz, pop - all of it. He was equally at home on a concert stage or playing a wedding gig. George was originally taught by his father along with his brother and sister before going to Tito. It was a musical family.
I spent some great time at the Mandala's home situated in the center of their family vineyard in Cucamonga. In the mornings everyone practiced. It is just what they did. In the afternoons there was some type of diversion, like bowling or wringing out Tony's Hudson Hornet down some empty road in the middle of the vineyards. But in the evenings, we returned to accordion, going late into the night. We played our solo work and played together. We read at random from fake books; usually to an audience of family and friends. I don't remember ever looking at a television. A couple times George came to our home - where we basically did the same thing, except using an isolated road between the refinery and the dairy to exercise the Hudson.
Like me, George was also influenced by Johnny LaPadula, but wanted his own technical showpiece to start his performances. Johnny had already done Dizzy Fingers, so George decided on Diero's Quicksilver. I still remember him playing it for us at an insanely fast tempo with impeccable precision and accuracy. I am reminded of a comment Horowitz made to one of his students regarding the tempo he had played a particular piece, "It was just wickedly fun!" Too few people ever got to hear George play. The accordion world was changing, and unfortunately George left us too soon. Quicksilver is on the album for George. Dizzy Fingers is on there for Johnny LaPadula. And all three of us played Galla-Rini's arrangement of Konzertstuck, which is also on the album.
Perhaps I should call the album 'Accordion Heroes'.
Note: From time to time I am posting various musical clips. Some friends have said they cannot play them. If you are having this problem, drop me an Email and I will send them to you.
