Southwest Sojourn, Part IV

"The hills are alive with the sound of music!" (Classic movie, by the way -- Edelweiss breaks my heart every time...)

Greetings from Liz again. One of the best parts of our trip to Utah was our trek up the hills for a makeshift photo shoot. We recruited the assistance of our supremely stellar sidekicks, Gregory and Melody Brown, who happened to be utterly skillful and blessedly patient companions. (We love you guys!)

The plans were simple enough: hike up huge hill by Brown house, get gussied up, take pictures. Plan=simple. Execution=not so simple. The hills we had in mind happened to be unexpectedly inaccessible, and as we trampled -- parched, aimless, sweaty, and burdened with cumbersome garment bags -- through a thorny and tortuous path replete with brambles, deer droppings, and cacti (which pierced Gregory in the foot and myself in the thigh), I grumbled in discontent, "We're crazy." I don't deny that Greg Anderson and I have a history for getting ourselves into absurd situations because of our brilliant (I mean, ridiculous) ideas.

Yet all the huffing and puffing was worth it. Once we reached the apex of the hill, I had to catch my breath for another reason: the views were spectacular, formidable, sublime. The early-evening skies were the clearest cerulean -- not a cloud in sight -- and the bracing winds were fresh and invigorating. Greg and I stripped for the world to see (that's where Melody came in -- she protected my modesty with a sheet) into our formal wear, and then we vamped for Greg's little digital camera, manned by Gregory. Watch out, professional photographers: Greg Brown's got some serious skills. Melody was also instrumental in the process, shouting out observations, adjusting my windblown tresses, and repeatedly telling Greg A to "own" his pose.

The results? A few images are posted on our website, and as for the others, you're just going to have to wait! ;)

Southwest Sojourn, Part III

A third posting on our Southwest Sojourn, again by yours truly - Greg.

The six-piano concert that Liz mentioned was a unique experience for the two of us. I've composed piles of music for five pianos (The 5 Browns), but I've never actually performed with more than one other piano at the same time. Surprisingly, the six of us fit together remarkably easily, and with only 20 minutes of rehearsal, we were ready to perform Tim Seddon's compact minimalist statement: Sixteen for six pianos. Cool piece! We spent nearly every minute around our joyous colleagues, The Piano Ensemble (Fred Oldenburg, Jeroen van Veen, and Elizabeth and Marcel Bergmann), chuckling, laughing, and guffawing.

I'll leave a discussion of our photo shoot in the Rocky Mountains to my dear friend, Liz. :-)

Southwest Sojourn, Part II

Liz wrote about the first concert, so I'll tackle the second. Titled "Flair & Fury: A new approach to four hands at one piano," this concert attempted to show just what could be done by two pianists at one piano. It sounded like a nice idea in theory, but "man!" did those 75 minutes of music give us a workout. We'll need a daily aerobic routine if we plan to perform the "Flair & Fury" program with any frequency!

Nevertheless, the concert went well, particularly The Rite of Spring. The poor piano didn't know what hit it. (For those who are interested, "Spring Rounds" hit it ... and, well, so did the "Sacrificial Dance").

We worked out some awesome lighting design for the performance with the excellent designer, Z. Z nailed all the cues and continually amazed us with her spot-on portrayal of the music through lighting. For those of you in attendance, what did you think? Did the lighting enhance or detract from the music?

Southwest Sojourn, Part I

It's Liz again, hoping all of you are enjoying the start of the summer. Greg and I are in the outskirts of Salt Lake City, savoring the blindingly blue skies, awe-inspiring vistas, and wonderful hospitality of the Brown family (our best friends). We're winding down after a busy stint at the Gina Bachauer International Piano Festival, where we performed three times: on June 20 we presented the festival's opening concert on two pianos; on June 21 we gave a four-hand/one-piano recital; and on June 23 we were involved in a piece for six pianos (yes, six). All the concerts took place at the Rose Wagner Performing Arts Center in downtown Salt Lake City.

In our first concert, we performed our trademark transcriptions of Danse macabre and Erbarme Dich as well as our new 50-minute composition based on Carnival of the Animals. We especially loved the audience's ebullient response to the Carnival. The audience roared with laughter at all the right places, understood the musical allusions, and clapped after each movement. Consequently Greg and I felt extra-energized to pull out all the stops performance-wise, and we had a ball. When we and our listeners have fun, it feels like a job well done!

Saving the Music, Anderson & Roe Style

It's Liz here, back from my blogging break. Greg and I had a marvelous time yesterday playing for elementary school students in Queens. Just to give a bit of background, I am a teaching artist fellow of The Academy - A Program of Carnegie Hall, The Juilliard School, and The Weill Music Institute, and as part of this exciting program I teach music at The Abigail Adams School, PS 131Q. For a special end-of-the-year presentation, I decided to bring my trusty companion Greg along, and we performed in two consecutive assemblies for kids in grades K-5. The auditorium was set up with a baby grand piano and the upright from the music room so we had the option of playing some two-piano music in addition to our four-hand fare.

Some especially memorable moments: the students responding to my greeting with a collective chorus of "Good morning, Miss Roe!"; the crowd getting really excited when Assistant Principal Frank Headley announced that Greg and I attended a Harry Potter movie premiere and met the stars; the kids clamoring to guess which animals were being represented in our Carnival of the Animals finale; the effectively rattling sounds of the Danse macabre on the rickety pianos; the eager applause that erupted while we were still playing; the question-and-answer session at the end of each assembly; Mr. Headley's inspiring wrap-up comments on the school's motto of "excellence for everyone." On a personal note, I have had such an enriching and enjoyable experience teaching at this school, and Greg and I always love working with young people. If only as adults we can maintain that level of openness, curiosity and wonder.