#adult piano lessons minneapolis

[pianofever]

Levin Piano Lab

Levin Piano Lab is dedicated providing a welcoming, fun and challenging environment designed to foster creativity while helping each student achieve personal excellence.

[sunflowerseedsandscience]

Something different.

Most of you know I’ve been devoting all my free time over the past three years to writing original novels. Here’s the opening chapter of one of them. 

Sundays at the local skating rink are my secret pleasure. Most of the week, the ice is devoted to hockey practices and private lessons, but on Sunday afternoons, the rink is available for a three-hour public skating session, and it's always crowded. I like to buy myself a latte from the cafe across the street, climb into the stands, and camouflage myself amongst the crowd of parents dividing their attention between their children, making slow, laborious laps around the rink, and their phones. I don't doubt most of them are hoping their kids will tire themselves out, thus making the last few hours of the weekend quieter. The faces change from week to week, but the categories the skaters fall into are the same. The youngest glide along between the feet of a parent (who looks with envy at the adults relaxing in the stands), while their older counterparts grip the boards, moving forward inches at a time. There are rambunctious teenagers, chasing each other on unskilled feet, occasionally crashing into unsuspecting skaters. Couples hold hands as they totter along, gazing at one another, like they can't imagine anything more romantic than spending a few hours in uncomfortable rented skates, on a badly-groomed sheet of ice, surrounded by screaming kids slamming into their legs every few minutes. There's always, of course, the requisite show-off, the young figure skater in their first year of lessons, dreams of Olympic glory filling their heads, earning the slack-jawed admiration of every child present with scratch spins and sloppy jumps. Most of them will quit within a year or so, driven off by the increasing difficulty, by the endless (and painful) falls that come before mastering each new skill. One or two will persevere, at least until high school, when they'll be faced with the choice between adhering to the demanding practice schedule, or getting to have a social life. But they're not who I come to the rink to see. The precise skater I'm here for isn't immediately obvious. She typically begins her session on the ice clinging to the boards, like the other first-timers, but she won't stay there long. Before she's gotten halfway around the rink, she'll discover she doesn't need as much help balancing as she'd thought, and she'll tentatively release her hold on the boards. Instead of choppy, uncertain steps, she'll start to glide, managing to hold her balance on one foot long enough to push off with the other... and then for a bit longer... and longer... until she's moving faster and more smoothly than most of the skaters around her. Her face will light up with one realization- Hey, this is easy!- followed quickly by another- Hey, this is fun! Emboldened, she'll see how long she can balance on one foot, or she'll try skating backwards, or she'll possibly even manage a shaky two-footed spin and emerge from it as excited as if she's landed a triple axel. This skater will be disappointed to the point of tears when her time on the ice is over, in sharp contrast to the rest of the children, most of whom abandon the ice in exhaustion long before the session is up. She'll rush up to her parents, not stopping to remove her skates, and she'll beg them to please, please, please let her take lessons, because this is so much more fun than ballet or piano or softball or whatever other activities currently take up her afternoons. Within a year, she'll have graduated to being one of the Sunday afternoon show-offs, and not long after that, she'll most likely have quit... but that doesn't matter, because where the skater goes from here isn't what interests me. What I come here to see is that all-important moment, that instant when the little girl or boy falls in love with skating. I come here to see the beginning of an obsession, the realization dawning on a child's face that they could do this all day, every day, and never get bored. I think, sometimes, if I witness it often enough, I might start to remember the time when I felt that way myself. 

But inevitably, the public skating session ends, the rink empties, and I'm left to climb down from the stands, toss my empty coffee cup in the trash, trudge out to my car, and drive home, feeling more lost than I had when I'd arrived. Even though my father's farm is less than three miles outside of Kasson, Minnesota, I drive into town twice a week, at most- on Sundays, to visit the rink, and on Mondays for my weekly grocery run, which I make in the middle of the day when most people are in school or at work. These past three years, ever since the Sochi Olympics, I prefer to avoid conversation as much as possible... a difficult feat in a small town where everyone seems to know who Emma Lautner is, and how irredeemably I've humiliated myself. There's no sign of life at the farm. Dad's probably at his office in Rochester, trying to squeeze as much productivity out of the weekend as he can, juggling a caseload that would break most people. And even if he is home, he's probably out walking the fences, checking whether any are in need of repair. It's not like we can afford to pay someone to do that for us these days. We might not keep livestock anymore-- the last horse was sold when I was sixteen-- but Dad's a creature of habit through and through, and he likes to keep things in the best shape he can. I drive past the garage and the imposing seven-bedroom house-- noting that a few more shingles seem to be missing after the most recent storm-- and pull up alongside the one-bedroom guest cottage I call home. I park, cut the engine, and make my way along the path I shoveled for myself earlier this morning, when a February snowstorm finally blew itself out after three days. The cottage isn't locked; there's no need for security out here. I'm more likely to lock the door for privacy when I'm home than I am for safety when I'm out. Once the door is shut behind me, I sag against it, taking a deep breath, enjoying the warmth and solitude of my little home. Well... for about thirty seconds, that is, which is how long it takes for my cell phone to start ringing. I yank the phone out of my coat pocket, glance at the name, and groan. I silence the phone and stuff it back into my pocket, shrug off my coat, and hang it on the wall by the door. I slouch into the living room, where I flop down on the threadbare couch, closing my eyes. Five minutes later, someone pounds on the door, which, I remember with another groan, I haven't locked. It's thrown unceremoniously open, and my coach, Barbara Parker, a reed-thin former ballroom dancing champion, strides in on a gust of frigid February air. She slams the door behind her, and her brisk, determined footsteps announce her approach. "I need you out at the rink," she says, skipping right over her unanswered phone calls. "There's a surprise waiting for you." I roll onto my back and glare up at her. Barbara's "surprises" tend to be things like new, ridiculously hard exercises she's devised solely to torture me, and I'm not up for it today. "Barbara, I literally just walked in the door." "I know, I saw you from the house. That's why I called." I throw my arm over my eyes. "Look, if you didn't want me to know whether or not you're home whenever I need to talk to you, you shouldn't have invited me to move here." "I didn't invite you to move here," I point out, sitting up. "That was my father's idea." "And what an excellent idea it was." Barbara is infuriatingly unflappable as always. "Speaking of which, he asked me to tell you he had to drive up to Minneapolis for a couple days. He'll be back Wednesday." She nudges me with her knee. "Let's go, Emma. Time's wasting." Barbara isn't likely to leave me alone until she's revealed whatever the surprise is... so with a heavy sigh, I relent. I climb off the couch, shrug back into my coat, and follow her outside. About fifty yards from my cottage is a mammoth structure that once housed stables for the horses my father's family bred for generations... at least until, at the relentless urging of my mother, the entire operation was shut down, the horses were sold, and the stables were remodeled into a regulation-sized ice rink. The change did not endear Carolyn Lautner (already dubbed "that California bimbo" by my extended family, though they tried not to say it around me) to the Lautner clan. Even though my mom's been back in Los Angeles for three years, and even though I've been without a skating partner for most of that time, Dad's made no move to return the skating rink to its original use. And when it comes down to it, I'm just as much a creature of habit as my father, and I still come out here to train five days a week, partner or no. Inside, the rink has a slight air of neglect, though it remains serviceable. There's an ancient ice resurfacer, which I operate and which my dad's friend repairs when needed, parked at one end. Near the center of the rink's sidelines, where the judging panel would sit during a competition, is a raised plywood platform, where Barbara likes to perch and bark out instructions. I've got no idea what sort of "surprise" Barbara has planned, so I don't know what to expect as I follow her into the building and up to the edge of the ice... but whatever I'd expected, it hadn't involved a young man, whose face I can't make out at this distance, skating around on the ice I groomed myself this morning. I squint at him, trying to see if I recognize him from town, but he's at the far end of the rink and all I can tell is that he's tall, lean, and has dark hair. I turn to Barbara. "This is my surprise? Barbara, you shouldn't have." Across the ice, the skater catches sight of us and glides down the rink in our direction. He's graceful, at home on the ice, and watching the way he moves, I start to understand. "I thought you said you'd given up trying to find me a partner this close to the Olympics." "I did." "You said any senior male ice dancer would either already be paired up, or would have decided to wait until Beijing in 2022." "I thought I'd try branching out." Frowning, trying to puzzle out what Barbara means by that, I turn back to the ice. The young man skates to a graceful stop in front of us... and all the breath leaves my body. He's handsome, with large, green eyes in a narrow face, and his smile is cheerful, open, friendly. It's a smile, however, that I have no interest in ever seeing again in my life, no matter how gorgeous the face housing it might've grown to be. My chest grows tight, constricted, and I'm terrified I'm about to have my first panic attack in almost six months, right here, in front of both of them. "Emma," says Barbara, feigning total indifference to my sudden distress,  "I'd like you to meet your new partner, Adam Murrow." For a moment, I can't bring myself to say anything. All I can do is stand here, hoping desperately this isn't happening, that he's not here, not standing in my ice rink as though he belongs here, as though he hadn't- "What the hell are you doing here?" I demand, my breath returning in one furious rush. I want to punch Adam Murrow right on his narrow chin, to wipe the infuriating cheerfulness out of his bright green eyes. But I've got a good idea of how Barbara would react to that, so I content myself with clenching my fists, confining the punch I'd like to throw to my imagination. "He's here at my invitation." Barbara's tone is a warning. "I contacted him after New Year's and asked if he'd be interested in coming out for a trial period." "And you didn't bother to mention this to me?" Barbara shrugs. "I didn't see the need to tell you until I knew for sure he was coming. I told him to take a few weeks to think it over, and here he is." I open my mouth, intending to demand she explain how, knowing the history between me and Adam, she could possibly have thought it would be a good idea to bring my former partner out here. Barbara's face, though, tells me exactly how that would play out, so I whirl on Adam, instead. "You're a freestyle skater now. And not even a pairs skater. What, you found out getting onto the Olympic team as a solo skater wasn't as easy as you thought, so you decided maybe you'd come running back to ice dancing?" "Um... not exactly," says Adam. "I mean... yes, I have decided to try ice dancing again, but it's not because I didn't think I could get named to the men's team on my own." He looks down, shuffling his feet. "What, then? Did you lose a bet?" I ask scathingly. "Or maybe you couldn't hack it in the big leagues? Couldn't manage the quads?" Barbara shoots me a warning look. "Adam has made the decision to give up solo freestyle skating and come back to ice dance because of some minor knee issues." She gestures for him to exit the ice. He steps out onto the rubber flooring and stands before me, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in a way that, years ago, would have told me he was nervous. "Nothing serious, not yet, but his doctor has told him if he wants to be able to get around without a wheelchair by the time he's forty, he needs to cut back on physical stress." "By which he meant, no more jumps. No more triples, and definitely no more quads," says Adam. "And since I'm not likely to qualify for anything at all, much less the Olympic team, with a program full of waltz jumps and single loops...." He shrugs. "There wasn't much point." "So, what, you thought you'd make the switch back?" "No, actually, I called him," says Barbara. I stare at her, aghast. "You contacted him and invited him to skate with me?" "I did," says Barbara, still completely calm, which infuriates me further. "And it never occurred to you to... I don't know, ask me what I thought about your brilliant idea first?" "It occurred to me, sure. But I knew you wouldn't go for it, so I decided to just do it. Adam very graciously flew all the way out here from New York on short notice, so I think you should at least give him a shot, don't you?" "Here's something else that probably should've occurred to you by the time he got here, since I've had enough time to think of it and I've only been clued into this insane idea for five minutes," I retort. "If his knees are too shot for jumping, what makes you think he'll be strong enough to do any lifts? Or are you going to suggest I be the one to lift him, instead?" "It's a completely different kind of stress on the body and you know it," says Barbara. "Lifting a one-hundred-thirty pound woman isn't exactly the same as putting six hundred pounds of pressure onto one knee for a quad jump." "And my knees aren't shot," interjects Adam. "They will be, sure, if I'm not careful, but she's right. Lifts aren't gonna be a problem, unless you've put on a hell of a lot of weight since I last saw you." He looks me up and down. "Which it doesn't look like you have." I glare at him as ferociously as I can. "You left this sport," I remind him. I want to remind him he left me, as well, but I bite that bit back. With difficulty. "I know I did." "And don't think I haven't seen the interviews you've given since then. For instance, the one where you said ice dancing is just freestyle skating with all the hard parts taken out?" "Jesus, Em." I bristle at his familiarity, the way he talks to me as though it hasn't been seven years since we've last spoken, as though he hadn't disappeared from my life and left a mess behind him. He doesn't notice. "I said that at least five years ago! I was being flip, going for an easy laugh!" "But you do think it's less difficult, don't you?" Adam rolls his eyes. "Of course not, Em." "Don't call me that." "Fine, Miss Lautner, then," he says. I keep glaring at him. "Your royal highness?" I actually take a threatening step towards him before Barbara puts a warning hand on my shoulder. "Emma. I don't think it's less difficult. I promise. It's not like I forgot everything about ice dancing the moment I switched to freestyle." You certainly forgot about me, I think, but I content myself with crossing my arms tightly and looking away. I can't stand looking at his stupidly handsome face for another second. "Adam, you can feel free to stay on the ice if you want," Barbara says. "Or if you'd rather go finish unpacking, that's fine, too. I'll have dinner on the table around six o'clock." Adam's eyebrows shoot up. "You're the coach and the cook?" "Yes, I'm the cook," says Barbara agreeably. "At least for tonight. Our budget doesn't exactly allow for a professional chef." She doesn't, thankfully, mention the other reason we take turns cooking and always eat dinner together: when she first got here, my relationship with food had been tempestuous, to say the least. "Tomorrow night, it's Emma's turn. And on Tuesday, it'll be your turn." Adam's cheerful expression falters. "I'm, uh... I'm not much of a cook." Remembering his difficulties with the simplest of recipes when we'd been younger, I can't help taking pleasure in his nervousness. "It doesn't have to be anything fancy," Barbara assures him. "It can be spaghetti with sauce from a jar, if that's all you know how to make. So once you've decided what you'll be cooking, check in the kitchen and see if we've got what you need, and if not, write it on the shopping list on the fridge." She takes my arm. "We'll see you at dinner. For now, I need to speak with Emma in private." And without waiting for a response from Adam, Barbara pulls me firmly away from the ice by the elbow. I glance over my shoulder before we leave the building. Adam's back out on the ice, gliding gracefully in slow circles, his arms held out, encircling an imaginary partner... and briefly, lost in memory, I can almost feel his hands on me, holding me firmly, but tenderly. Exactly the way his hands always had. Before. Back inside my cottage, I fall onto my couch without taking my coat off, leaning my head back, staring at the ceiling. "Why didn't you ask me what I thought before you contacted him?" I don't look at Barbara. "Because I had a pretty good idea of what your response would be." She lowers herself into my beat-up armchair. "So why go ahead with it, then? If you knew I'd be against it?" "Because, Emma, there are no viable options left at this point. There aren't many male ice dancers looking for partners only a year from the next Olympics, and any who are, well...." Her voice trails off, and the silence following her words is awkward. At the unspoken reproach in my coach's voice, a sudden stab of resentment makes me borderline nauseous. "What happened with Grant wasn't completely my fault." I lift my head, glaring at her. "Most of it wasn't your fault, kid. And as for how it ended...." She sighs. "The person who storms off the ice is always going to look like the one at fault to everyone watching. And if I'd been your coach when all of that got going, well...." She shrugs. "Let's just say, after a few days of coaching Grant, I would've known enough to advise against letting it begin in the first place." "I don't see how that's any different from blaming me for all of it, since what happened in Sochi never would've had the chance to happen if Grant and I hadn't--" "It's always a risk you take, getting involved with your partner. Even if the ending isn't as... volatile... as yours and Grant's, there's still the chance it will end. And an amicable breakup doesn't guarantee you'll still be able to skate together. If I'd been your coach, I would've told you that as soon as I suspected things were heading in that direction." "Instead of encouraging it, like Edgar did," I mumble, pulling my legs up to my chest and pressing my face into my knees. Barbara sets her mouth in a thin line, probably biting back the things she'd like to say about Edgar Fellig, her predecessor... but, as always, she holds her tongue. "No point living in the past" is one of Barbara's favorite personal affirmations. Except now, thanks to Barbara, my past will be living with me. "How do you know he won't bail the second something goes wrong?" I demand. "Last time, I'd been injured barely a week, and that was long enough for him to start auditioning new partners. Jesus, Barbara, he was skating with someone else the day after I left the hospital!" "You might want to remember you weren't completely innocent in what happened," Barbara cautions, and I bristle. "I can't think of anything I could have said that would justify abandoning your partner of eight years just because she got hurt." I'd like to say something much more cutting, but I can't risk driving Barbara away. Plus... it's not like she's completely wrong. "In any case," Barbara sighs, "you've got two choices. You can give Adam a chance, and have a shot at being ready in time for Nationals and getting selected for the Olympic team... or you can wait five more years for the Beijing games, and hope the gossip dies down enough by then for you to find someone else to skate with." "Wait for the gossip to die down? In this community?" I shake my head. "Fifteen years wouldn't be enough time for that, let alone five." "Then I guess you can either give my idea a try... or give up." I glare at her. "I am not giving up. If I never skate again, then Grant wins. Edgar wins. My mother wins." I shake my head. "Giving up isn't an option." I drop my feet heavily to the floor, leaning my elbows on my knees. Barbara's right: as much as I would've preferred never to set eyes on my former partner again, giving Adam a second chance is my only viable option. But being around him, day after day, spending hours on end together, in near-constant physical contact.... I promised myself, years ago, that if I ever got the chance to confront Adam over the way he'd walked away from me, I wouldn't do it. It would be an acknowledgement of how much his desertion had hurt me. Hurt me? Hell, it had destroyed me. But letting Grant win? That would destroy me even further. I look up at Barbara, resigned. "Fine. But I don't want him given any slack, okay? I'm sure he's got it in his head this is gonna be easy, and I have no interest in holding his hand and comforting him when he finds out how wrong he is." Barbara nods, satisfied. "Good." She stands. "I'll see you at the house for dinner, all right?" I wince. The idea of sitting across from- or worse, next to- Adam is the least appetizing thing I can think of. What the hell are we supposed to talk about? "I think I'll skip eating with everyone else tonight," I say, even though I know exactly how well that's going to go over. "Not an option and you know it." "I've got food in my fridge." "And you can eat it later, if you need a snack. But dinner is at the house at six, every night. That was one of my conditions when I agreed to be your coach, and I'm not letting up on it because you're in a bad mood." Sullenly, I nod, and Barbara, zipping her coat back up, lets herself out. I lean back and close my eyes. Somehow, even though I haven't done much today, I'm exhausted. The thought of going to my room, collapsing into bed, and napping until dinner is tempting, but if I do that, I'll probably end up lying awake for hours later tonight when it's actually time for bed. There's nothing to be gained by putting off the inevitable. I trudge outside and return to the rink. Adam's still on the ice, skating slowly, only now, instead of practicing partner holds on his own, he's frowning down at his feet as he moves. When he glances up, catching sight of me, he looks nervous, but he skates over all the same. "You don't look too sure of yourself out there," I tell him bluntly. "Moving pretty slowly. I thought you said your knees weren't that bad?" "They're not. I'm getting used to the different blades again, that's all." I follow his gaze down to the smaller toe pick and shorter blades of his ice dancing boots. "I've already fallen over backwards once. I keep expecting there to be more blade back there to catch me."   "That's not encouraging." For the first time, Adam looks irritated. His mouth turns down and his eyes narrow. It's an expression I remember well from our teenage years, though he rarely aimed it at me. "Look, I know you don't have any reason to be excited I'm here," he says. "I get it. I'm obviously not your first choice of partner, and I don't blame you, but I do think you have to get over yourself at some point. Especially if we're gonna be skating together." I'm so furious, I can't speak. I close my eyes, breathing deeply, trying to master my temper, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he's gotten to me. "I have to get over myself?"   "I'd say you do, yeah." "No, Adam, I don't think I do. What I need is a partner who actually wants to be here, not someone who sees this as a last resort if they can't get to the Olympics any other way. I need a partner who knows how much hard work is in front of him and isn't afraid to put in the time." "And what makes you think I see this as a last resort? What makes you think I'm not ready to work as hard as I need to? You think I spent all my time as a freestyle skater slacking off and joking around for TV reporters? I worked my ass off trying to get onto the men's team." "Why haven't you yet, then?" I'm verging on being truly unkind, but I don't care. "Why's this going to be your first Olympics? You were old enough to go to Sochi in 2014, so why didn't you qualify then?" Adam glares at me. "Why didn't you?" he retorts. For a second, I see red. How dare he? "You know damn well that I did go." "That's right, I do," says Adam coldly. "I know you qualified, I know you went to Sochi, I know why your short dance was a disaster, and I know why you didn't finish the competition. Everyone knows. So I'd appreciate it if you could knock it off with your holier-than-thou attitude. We don't have to like each other, but we do have to work together, and that's gonna be hard to do if you're spending every minute acting like I've somehow insulted you and everything you stand for by trying to have a skating career of my own." He turns away, skating back towards the center of the ice. "See you at dinner," he calls over his shoulder. I contemplate shouting some scathing retort at him. I debate storming out there after him and giving him a good, hard shove, knocking him on his ass on the ice. I think about maybe climbing on the Zamboni and running him over... but in the end, I do none of those things. I whirl on my heel, stalk out of the rink, and stand outside in the darkening Minnesota afternoon, allowing the frigid wind to cool my cheeks, reddened with fury... and with shame.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Live Picks: 5/11-5/20

Jess Williamson; Photo by Kari Rosenfeld

BY JORDAN MAINZER

I’ll be in London from tonight until the 19th, so I wanted to get you covered until the 20th!

5/11: Shabazz Palaces, Empty Bottle

When we saw Shabazz Palaces at Riot Fest last year, we noticed the headiness and understated nature of the set in comparison with other sets at the festival. Seeing them in a small venue, in contrast, is ideal.

Experimental hip hop band Leaf Set opens. Jill Hopkins of Vocalo Radio DJs before the show.

5/11: Kem, Anthony Hamilton, & Eric Benet, Wintrust Arena

The R&B Super Jam tonight at Wintrust Arena features a diverse lineup. There’s quiet storm artist Kem, who mixes spirituality and love on albums like Intimacy. There’s the best known, neo soul singer Eric Benet. And then there’s Anthony Hamilton, whose Back To Love remains one of the best R&B albums of the decade and who often finds himself collaborating with hip hop artists, unlike the other two. Whether they play together or alone or a mix of both, it’ll be sure to be a great show.

5/11: Loma & Jess Williamson, Schubas

Loma, the band consisting of Shearwater’s Jonathan Meiburg and Emily Cross and Dan Duszynski from Cross Record, has only their self-titled debut, which we enjoyed very much. In a headlining set, they should be able to play most or all of it. The extent to which they replicate live an album that’s loaded with effects and nature sounds is to be seen.

Jess Williamson follows up 2016′s great, stark Heart Song with something much more expansive. Cosmic Wink, out today, is her Mexican Summer debut. It’s inspired by her move from Texas to California, new love, and the death of her dog. “When I don’t know what home is, I can turn into your arms,” Williamson sings on album closer “Love On The Piano”. It’s a sweet sentiment, but the rest of the album, despite the romance, still has those Texas high and lonesome qualities--it was recorded there, after all. Opener “I See The White” recalls some of the more melancholy tracks on Angel Olsen’s My Woman, while the Rhodes-laden “Wild Rain” is desolate and emotive.

Williamson will also be doing an in-store performance and signing at Shuga Records at 5 P.M.

5/11: Bing & Ruth, Constellation

The last time we saw ambient classical collective Bing & Ruth, they put us in a trance playing their great No Home of the Mind. Sine then, they’ve released an EP, Dorsal, as well as a single, the gorgeous “Quebec (Climber)”, released as part of the upcoming Stadiums & Shrines 10th anniversary compilation Dreams.

TüTH, the industrial project of Disappears bassist Damon Carruesco, opens. Brent Heyl DJs before the show.

5/11: Meat Wave, Catapult Records & Toys

Here’s what we wrote about Meat Wave when they opened for Hot Snakes at Thalia Hall back in March:

“If you’ve read us for the past few years, you know we love the songs and shows ever-ascending local heroes Meat Wave, having covered three different sets of theirs. Their last full-length release was 2017′s The Incessant, but earlier this year, they released two new songs, one-minute stomper 'Shame' and creepy slow-burner 'Dogs At Night'. Subtle, but still just as pummeling; their set should contain a lot of the latter, and not much of the former. Be thankful for that.”

Local two-piece punk band Drilling For Blasting and UK grunge band Strange Planes open.

5/11 & 5/12: Lizzo, Aragon

I’ve been a fan of Minneapolis hip hop artist Lizzo since her 2013 debut Lizzobangers, which she followed up in 2015 with Big GRRRL Small World. The former established her as a dexterous, hyperactive MC with a feminist tilt. She showed off her singing chops on the latter. But her 2016 EP Coconut Oil and tracks she’s released recently see her going in many different directions. The title track to the former is soulful and infused with gospel, while new tracks like “Truth Hurts” and “Fitness” are some true Lizzo bangers.

Fleetwood Mac worshipers Haim headline.

5/12: Helen Money, Hungry Brain

Cellist Alison Chesley is classically trained, but that’s right where formality ended. She started Verbow with Jason Narducy and then, after Verbow broke up, was a session musician in Chicago. But it wasn’t until her first solo album Helen Money and her subsequent adoption of the moniker that she truly started pushing the cello to its limited. Fast forward to 2016, and Chesley released her magnum opus Become Zero. Featuring Neurosis’ Jason Roeder and Rachel’s Rachel Grimes, Become Zero is a true mash of genres, bending the lines between experimental noise and metal while Chesley used digital processing for the first time. It was to great effect, as she made an album as full of sorrow and empathy as harsh soundscapes.

She plays with Peter Maunu and Carol Genetti, who play an opening set of their own.

5/12: Moritz von Oswald, Smartbar

Moritz von Oswald was one of the most influential 90′s dub techno producers, having done great work with both Basic Channel and Maurizio. Over the past 10 years or so, he’s branched out under his own name, whether with Detroit pioneers Carl Craig and Juan Atkins, by himself, or with the Moritz von Oswald Trio, his project with Sun Electric and Vladislav Delay. (I’m particularly fond of their album Fetch.) The Hamburg master should give a fantastic DJ set.

Deep techno DJ Olin and TEXTURE Detroit resident and founder Soren and Jacob Park open.

5/12: Speedy Ortiz, Subterranean

In 2015, Speedy Ortiz followed up their great debut Major Arcana with the even better Foil Deer. Supporting that album, they improved tenfold as a live band. When they went to record what would become their third album Twerp Verse, the 2016 U.S. presidential election happened, and they scrapped the strictly personal stuff and went political. Sadie Dupuis and company have always been political from a social and feminist perspective, but not so outspoken as on Twerp Verse. Musically, the album is consistent with Dupuis’ solo project Sad13, embracing the synth and Dupuis’ ever-improving voice over the wiry guitars for which the band first became known.

Local hero Nnamdi Ogbonnaya and Ohio band Didi open.

5/12: Vijay Iyer Sextet, Constellation

Vijay Iyer is captivating by himself and in duo form. So performing his sextet material (last year’s great Far From Over) with a steady band (besides a set of rotating drummers) should be a captivating live show. The band includes horn players Graham Haynes, Steve Lehman and Mark Shim alongside bassist Stephan Crump and drummer Marcus Gilmore.

There are two shows: one at 8:30 P.M. and one at 10:00 P.M.

5/13: Bill MacKay & Ryley Walker, Cafe Brauer

They’ve already turned upside-down one wholesome holiday. Whose to say they won’t do it at Mother’s Day Brunch at the Lincoln Park Zoo? Over/under on Walker banter about yoga pants stands at 2 jokes.

Walker’s release shows for his new record Deafman Glance, out next Friday, are on 5/18 and 5/19. We previously wrote that Deafman Glance is “an arty record, subdued, embracing of free jazz and minimal synth music as much as folk.”

5/13: Obituary, Pallbearer, & Skeletonwitch, Metro

Obituary’s self-titled album, released last year, wasn’t just a return to form. It’s one of their best records, one that stands to refine the death metal tropes the band has been exploring from the get-go, from the swirling riffs of “Kneel Before Me” to the stomping “Lesson In Vengeance”. The songs should sit well beside the band’s catalog.

Last year, Pallbearer followed up their breakout album Foundations of Burden with the divisive Heartless. We liked but didn’t love Heartless. Either way, whatever you think of the band, they’re becoming better and better live. They just released a new single, “Drop Out”, and mini-documentary to go along with it, as part of Adult Swim Singles Program. It’s your typical track from the Arkansas band: lead singer Brett Campbell goes full-on Ozzy Osbourne, while the divide between the sky high electric guitars and guttural electric bass is larger than ever.

Despite turning over band members quite a bit, Ohio metal band Skeletonwitch is remarkably consistent, from 2011′s great Forever Abomination to 2013′s Serpents Unleashed. They release their sixth full-length Devouring Radiant Light in July and have released a single, the epic and black “Fen Of Shadows”. It showcases new vocalist Adam Clemans (who first appeared on their 2016 EP The Apothic Gloom) while reminding you why you’ve always loved the band: the dynamism between guitarists Nate Garnette and Scott Hedrick.

German thrash metal band Dust Bolt opens.

5/14: Damien Jurado & The Light, Lincoln Hall

Singer-songwriter Damien Jurado has been popping up here and there since the 90′s to release an occasionally jaw-dropping, brilliant record, like 2003′s Where Shall You Take Me? or the trilogy of Maraqopa, Brothers and Sisters of the Eternal Son, and Visions of Us on the Land. A week ago, he released his 13th studio album, the gentle The Horizon Just Laughed. While it might not have the psychedelic leanings of his best work (save for “Silver Timothy” sibling “Florence-Jean”), it’s sparse and gorgeous nonetheless.

Afro-folk singer-songwriter Naomi Wachira opens.

5/15: Justin Townes Earle & Lilly Hiatt, SPACE

Justin Townes Earle played City Winery back in February. Here’s what we wrote about him then:

“The Justin Townes Earle of 2018 may not be as exciting as the same singer-songwriter who released the mighty one-two punch of Midnight at the Movies and Harlem River Blues almost 10 years ago, but he’s got so many good songs across his discography that it’s almost better to see him live than take a deep dive into his discography. He quietly released his 7th album, Kids in the Street, in 2017, and it’s probably his best since Harlem River Blues, but you know the crowd’s gonna cheer the loudest for 'They Killed John Henry' and 'One More Night in Brooklyn'.”

Nashville singer-songwriter Lilly Hiatt recruited a new band for her third album Trinity Lane, and it’s her best record yet. With John Condit on guitar, Robert Hudson on bass, and Allen Jones on drums and production by Michael Trent of Shovels & Rope, Hiatt has found the perfect sound for sad stories like “The Night David Bowie Died” and honky tonk jams like “See Ya Later” alike.

5/16: Asking Alexandria, The Forge

Back in January, Asking Alexandria co-headlined the Riviera with Black Veil Brides. They co-headline The Forge with Black Veil Brides this time. Here’s what we wrote about them then:

“British metalcore band Asking Alexandria perhaps peaked with 2016’s The Black. While their new self-titled album, released last month, is an interesting departure in their sound, opting for more straightforward, melodic hard rock, it makes you miss the band’s louder moments.”

Scottsdale metalcore band Blessthefall open.

5/16: Rival Consoles, Empty Bottle

Persona, the latest album by Rival Consoles, is purportedly inspired by the Ingmar Bergman film of the same name. What’s more obvious is its obsession with perception, space, light, and darkness. His use of analogue-heavy synths, acoustic and electric instruments, and effect pedals creates a sonic world that travels faster than the speed of light between beauty and ugly. Songs titled like “Unfolding” do what their title suggests, slowly developing into a beat. The title track skitters, “Memory Arc” attacks like a monster, and “Phantom Grip” loops ominously. And then there’s Nils Frahm collaboration “Be Kind”, a truly light moment on a record, and one that exemplifies the spirit of shared label Erased Tapes.

Local experimental acid house project Africans With Mainframes opens.

5/16: Jean-Michel Blais, Constellation

Quebec composer and pianist Jean-Michel Blais has been slowly rising over the past few years. His debut album II was followed by an especially inspired collaboration with CFCF on last year’s Cascades EP, four tracks of original material and one John Cage rework. Today, he releases his second solo effort Dans ma main, which sees him combine his usual piano-led intimacy with synthesizer textures.

5/16: Power Trip & Sheer Mag, Reggie’s

Dallas thrash metal band Power Trip just released a collection of their earliest non-LP recorded material, showing the raw areas from where they came. 2013′s Manifest Decimation was their debut, but it was last year’s Nightmare Logic that brought them beyond the metal spheres to spots like a co-headlining tour with Sheer Mag.

As a live band, Sheer Mag stood out even before they released their best songs. Now that they’ve released the tracks, they’re on top of the world. Last year’s proper debut Need To Feel Your Love was an effective juxtaposition of 70′s radio rock with radical politics, accessible and loud enough to land on our top albums of the year list. 

Orange County hardcore band FURY and DC punks Red Death open. The same bill plays Empty Bottle on 5/19.

5/17: Prong, Bottom Lounge

Groove metal legends Prong are still going strong. Albums like the excellent Carved Into Stone and last year’s Zero Days show that the band is still capable of telling a musical story from start to finish while making room for meaty riffs and complex arrangements, holding up alongside their 80′s and 90′s work.

New York alt metal band Helmet co-headlines.

5/17: Josh Rouse, SPACE

Josh Rouse’s best record is 1972, which combined 70′s songwriting and production techniques with personal, political songwriter. Love in the Modern Age is the 80′s equivalent. Is it as successful? Of course not. But the similarity between the two albums makes me think Rouse will play lots of 1972 favorites.

Synth pop singer-songwriter Deanna Devore opens.

5/17: Marc Ribot, Art Institute of Chicago

Marc Ribot is one of the most creative guitarists around. I’ve seen him do a one-man score to Charlie Chaplin’s The Kid, play with his Ceramic Dog band, and jam with Los Lobos’ David Hidalgo. This time around, he’s doing an in-gallery solo performance at the Art Institute of Chicago in response to the paintings of Ivan Albright, presented in association with the exhibition Flesh: Ivan Albright at the Art Institute of Chicago.

5/17: Wye Oak, Thalia Hall

The Louder I Call, the Faster It Runs completes Wye Oak’s transition from raw, guitar-and-drums folk band to expansive synth rockers. Front woman Jenn Wasner’s pop project Dungeonesse and solo project Flock of Dimes as well as Wye Oak’s previous two albums, Shriek and Tween, are clear predecessors to the new record, the band’s best since Civilian. Natural and unbridled, it shows the least restrained version of Wasner and percussionist Andy Stack. The title track’s interweaving arpeggio synths and squawking guitars are the perfect soundtrack to a song poking fun at those trying to find order within chaos. The vocal-driven, cinematic “My Signal” and layered, washy “You Of All People” round out the album’s highlights.

Philadelphia indie rockers Palm open.

5/17: Charly Bliss, Empty Bottle

Charly Bliss frontwoman Eva Hendricks told us regarding the band’s live show, “Our live show is probably the most important aspect of making music for us, so we always want our shows to be as satisfying and fun as possible!” Their debut album Guppy (one of our favorites of 2017) was already fun and continues to satisfy well into 2018. There’s a reason this show is sold out.

Punk band Skating Polly opens.

5/18: Objekt, Smartbar

We haven’t heard much from avant techno genius Objekt since his great 2014 debut Flatland--apart from a few singles here and there. Maybe he has new material. What better place to debut it than Smartbar? Mixes of his old material works, too.

Pre-party for the Movement festival in Detroit. Stripped-down techno DJ Helena Hauff headlines. Local busy and prolific DJ Justin Aulis Long opens.

5/18: Raekwon the Chef, Promontory

Raekwon is responsible for some of the best rap albums ever, whether as a member of the Wu-Tang Clan or solo. Next Friday, he’ll be playing solo hits and Wu Tang Clan songs with the Mo Fitz Band backing him up. Though he may start with tracks from his most recent album The Wild, he should eventually delve into 36 Chambers and Cuban Linx classics, perhaps even performing for other Wu-Tang members, dead or alive.

Raekwon also is somehow playing another set this night at Bourbon on Division. DJ Ryan Ross opens that one.

5/18: Fever Ray, Metro

A Fever Ray show is not to be taken lightly, since Karen Dreijer doesn’t play very often, either as a part of The Knife or with her solo project. Plunge, last year’s follow-up to 2009′s self-titled album, was a stunning achievement. It was one of our favorite albums of last year due to its outspoken politics, frank sexuality, and chaotic beats. She revealed her live band members in a video for standout “IDK About You”.

There are two shows: one at 6:00 P.M. and one at 10:00 P.M.

5/19: TesseracT, Metro

British band TesseracT prove that djent prog metal can actually be tasteful in addition to good. Their masterpiece, 2013′s Altered State, was cohesive and actually beautiful at times, particularly thanks to vocalist Ashe O’Hara. Over the past two albums, including last month’s Sonder, the band has reunited with old vocalist Daniel Tompkins. While his vocals are more cliche whiny than O’Hara’s, the band’s instrumentation remains vital.

Australian metal guitarist Plini and rockers Astronoid open.

5/19: Pig Destroyer, 3 Floyds

Alexandria grindcore masters Pig Destroyer last left us in 2012 with their opus Book Burner. It was fast, violent, and truly dangerous-sounding. Next Saturday, they’re one of many bands playing 3 Floyds’ Dark Lord Day, which we’ve covered twice. To a drunk crowd wanting to hear favorites, expect them to...well...bounce all over the place.

Death metal band Dying Fetus headlines. The abrasive Revocation, blackened thrashers All Hell, jazz-metal outfit Brain Tentacles, and blackened doom two-piece Canyon of the Skull also play.

5/19: Elizabeth Cook, City Winery

Two years ago, we caught singer-songwriter Elizabeth Cook admirably perform songs from her latest release Exodus of Venus, an album inspired by death and tragedy. Over the past year or so, however, she’s been performing lots of new songs that should be out on a new record this fall. She should pepper them into her back catalog next Saturday.

Singer-songwriter Caleb Caudle opens.

[henry33tan]

Experiencing the first Sunrise in your playing

I had intended to title this posting, “Falling in Love Again”-a tribute to the music of Alexandre Tansman. It would highlight an affaire de coeur ignited by Amazon. (No Saturday Night Live script in progress) I would encapsulate the day I’d ordered what was supposed to be a copy of a new adult student’s album of Tansman miniatures that he’d brought to his first lesson. It included the familiar “Arabia” that was a memory prompt in my worst senior moment. What did I know of the composer’s output beyond the perfunctory inclusion of his picturesque modal morsel within an anthology of Late Beginner level offerings.

My Amazon purchase arrived with no sign of the hallmark piece, and to add to my disappointment, there was just “one” Collection instead of “4” as advertised by the seller: Pour Les Enfants (A bundle of Children’s compositions included 4 sets.) It had been my intention to explore the graded music in one package to assess the contents for teaching purposes.

(I’ve not yet referenced the “sunrise” aspect of this encounter, but it’s on the horizon.)

With only the frugal arrival of Book 1, (“Very Easy” level), I thumbed through its pages, sampling a few phrases of each title, growing more immersed in the music as I “read” along. It was an early blossoming love that was growing in intensity as I delved more deeply through appealing melodic and harmonic threads.

In less than 20 minutes through a sight-reading journey, a resonating epiphany sprang from this earliest exploration: It was my having experienced the “first sunrise” in my playing. (What we often lose in our redundant daily practicing)

I confessed to my adult student in the sanctity of my studio that I had not yet received a copy of his exact album, but the one obtained turned out to be a blessing in disguise, a set of heavenly pieces that were in a divine space I’d inhabited on the FIRST day I learned a few, and then permeating the rest, on the second and third day. It was a Here and Now, in the moment experience of childlike enchantment that I insisted must be retained in our daily practicing no matter the length of our stay with a particular composition.

***

How else can I express this spontaneous wonderment than through the music itself that’s in the imagination even as fingers are not engaged with the keys.

Day 1 (I fingered these four selections carefully; put in phrase marks that were omitted; scanned the harmonic rhythm of each) and sailed off with the prompted fantasy of the titles.

Naturally, in a personal, unabashed surrender to the music, a natural flow of energy through relaxed arms and supple wrists is needed. But such fluidity is always tied to attentive listening, where the ends of caressed notes, give direction to the beginnings of others.

It’s apparent that Tansman’s music as represented in this collection, Pour Les Enfants, has a bounty of teaching value. Each one, even designated as “VERY EASY,” encompasses a musical/technical challenge that incrementally grows musicianship.

My Day 2 highlighted favorites:

A Hanon-like charmer

An Old World ear-grabber

Another gem

Day 3 preferences:

A French-style Waltz

Finally, Tansman’s “Conclusion”

*** All 12 pieces in this collection were assimilated in 3 days of pure elation and joy. It sent a clear message that we need to preserve this sense of primordial love in all our practicing–embedding phrase after phrase with the awe of a first encounter.

About the Composer

Wiki summary: Alexandre Tansman was a Polish composer and virtuoso pianist of Jewish origin. He spent his early years in his native Poland, but lived in France for most of his life, being granted French citizenship in 1938. Wikipedia

Born: June 12, 1897, Łódź, Poland Died: November 15, 1986, Paris, France Education: University of Warsaw Albums: Polish Violin Concertos, Chamber Music with Clarinet

***

From the Naxos Website

ALEXANDRE TANSMAN (1897 – 1986)

“Few composers in the twentieth century have such an exceptionally far-ranging career as Alexandre Tansman. Born in Poland in 1897 at Łódź, also the birthplace of his friend, the pianist Arthur Rubinstein, Tansman studied at the conservatory there and in Warsaw. He had as a fellow student the famous conductor and composer Paul Kletzki, who, as a violinist, took part in the first performance of Tansman’s now lost Piano Trio No. 1 and later conducted also in Paris his Fifth Symphony [Marco Polo 8.223379]. After winning in 1919 the three first prizes in the national composition competition organized in the newly established Polish Republic, Tansman settled in Paris, where he had the support and encouragement of Ravel and Roussel.

“He established friendly relations with composers of his own generation such as Milhaud and Honegger and was a member of the Ecole de Paris, a group of composers from central and eastern Europe that included Bohuslav Martinů, Marcel Mihalovici, Tibor Harsányi and Alexandre Tcherepnin. His compositions were conducted by the most famous conductors of the period, Serge Koussevitzky, Leopold Stokowski, Pierre Monteux, Vladimir Golschmann and Dimitri Mitropoulos.

“In 1927–28 he made his first tour of the United States, performing, with Koussevitzky and the Boston Symphony, his Second Piano Concerto, a work dedicated to Charlie Chaplin, who was present in the concert hall. In 1932–33 Tansman embarked on a world tour during which he had the opportunity, in India, to meet Ghandi. In New York he had the surprise of hearing his Four Polish Dances programmed by Toscanini with the New York Philharmonic. Later it was thanks to a committee established by Toscanini, Chaplin, Ormandy and Heifetz that he and his family were able to leave France, occupied at the beginning of the Second World War. During his exile in America his career underwent considerable development and his works were played by the best American orchestras (New York, Cleveland, San Francisco, Minneapolis, Los Angeles, St Louis, Washington, and Cincinnati). He lived in Los Angeles and counted Stravinsky among his closest friends. From this almost daily contact later came a book on the Russian composer that is still regarded as authoritative.

“When he returned to Paris, his European activity resumed. His works were directed by the most renowned conductors of the day, such as Rafael Kubelik, André Cluytens, Jascha Horenstein, Ferenc Fricsay, Charles Brück, Jean Fournet and Bruno Maderna. There were regular commissions from French radio and this final period brought an important number of compositions, among them the oratorio Isaië le Prophète, the opera Sabbataï Zevi and the Concerto for Orchestra [Marco Polo 8.223757].”

from Arioso7's Blog (Shirley Kirsten) https://arioso7.wordpress.com/2017/03/12/experiencing-the-first-sunrise-in-your-playing/