ANYA’S RECITAL: LESSONS LEARNED by Sue Smaltz Burrus

Anya and Kerensa, my granddaughter, have been friends ever since they met as college freshman percussion students four years ago. Saturday at noon was Anya’s senior percussion recital. Kerensa wanted to do whatever she could to support her friend, even though she will not graduate this year because she is triple-majoring in music, art, and education.

As Anya picked out her recital pieces, she chose a drumming duet that she and Kerensa could play together, “Apotheosis” by Alex Keown. It required absolute synchronized, complex rhythms on several different drums. When someone asked later how they managed to be so perfectly in time with each other, they replied, “Three rehearsals a week, for a very long time!”

As they listened to another selection, “Three Preludes for Solo Marimba” by Ney Rosauro, Kerensa, Anya, and another friend found the music quite expressive and began to make up a story to go with the music.  Kerensa started sketching the scenes as they talked and they decided it would be wonderful to tell the story by having these images projected behind Anya as she played the “Preludes” on the marimba.  The more they listened, the number of images grew until they numbered about one hundred. Kerensa went to work.

The night before the recital, Kerensa was still working on the finishing touches.  Almost all of the 100 5 x 7 images, drawn and painted using charcoal, gouache, and crayon, were uploaded to a powerpoint presentation on her laptop.  She brought all the images on paper, and her computer to the recital hall.  Just one more thing … on one image she wanted the shirts people were wearing in the image to match what they were actually wearing that day.  She finished and turned on the powerpoint just to make sure everything was OK one last time before the concert began.  A message flashed on the screen, “File Corrupted”.  Some images were turned sideways.  Some were cut in half.  It was a complete mess.  She unplugged the computer and rushed back stage as Anya began her first piece, Keiko Abe’s “Michi”. Kerensa had 5 minutes and 27 seconds before they played their duet.  Powerpoint wasn’t going to work. She put the images into pdf format. If there was one thing remote learning during the pandemic taught students in her cohort, it was how to troubleshoot and shift from one platform and/or software to another at a moment’s notice! 

The duet went well. Kerensa smiled confidently as she performed. Anya had no idea there might be problems with the slide show. 

The next piece was longer, “Bushido - the Way of the Warrior,” a timpani solo by John Willmarth, 8 minutes and 15 seconds.  Backstage, Kerensa searched for how to put Adobe slides into a presentation. She had always used powerpoint with no problem.  Anya finished the timpani piece. Applause. Anya went on stage to say all of her thank you’s and explain that when she finished the piece she was about to play, “Three Preludes”, she would move immediately to the vibraphone for her last piece, “Clair de Lune” by Claude Debussy.  Kerensa still wasn’t sure the slideshow for the “Preludes” would work.  She took the computer out to  the desk by the stage and plugged it in. She turned on the computer.  In this presentation mode, she couldn’t see which slide came next, so she pulled up the presentation on her phone as well.  As Anya finished her speech, the screen saver was on the big screen … one step working.  She gave her friend a smile and a reassuring nod.

Anya started to play not knowing what was projected on the big screen behind her. 

Kerensa clicked on the presentation, not knowing if the slides would be right side up.  The first slide came onto the screen. It was good.  Kerensa heard the music cue for slide two.  She pressed the forward arrow.  Nothing.  She pressed it again.  Nothing.  Slide one was still up. What other signal would the computer recognize to go forward?  She tapped the space bar and it worked!  Slide 2 was on the screen. Gradually as Anya’s music filled the recital hall, Kerensa was able to advance the slides manually, looking at her phone to see which image was next in line and press the space bar at just the right time… Prelude #1, 4 minutes, 13 seconds.  There were a couple of places where the slides were supposed to toggle back and forth, but she didn’t know how to make this presentation go backward, so some slides stayed on the screen for an extra few seconds.  She was holding her breath. Prelude #2, 5 minutes, 33 seconds. The story was a sad one of love and loss, rage and grief. By Prelude #3, Kerensa had a rhythm going and it all seemed to be working, 5 minutes, 50 seconds. The story ended on a hopeful note. As Anya finished playing the marimba and quietly moved toward the vibraphone to play her final piece, the stage lights dimmed. The audience was silent as she turned on a desk lamp and played the opening chords of “Clair de Lune” in the soft light. Kerensa took a deep breath and could not stop the tears of relief.

There are times when our grandchildren teach us what we still need to know in these crazy times. 

1. Work with your friends to support their goals. Make it a team project. 

2. Working together successfully takes practice … at least three times a week for a long time. 

3. Contribute what you can. Know your own skill set and challenge yourself a bit.

4. When everything seems to be going wrong, do what you can to keep your team calm.

5. If things are still not working, ask for help, and try something different! 

6. We really can’t go backward, as much as we would like to sometimes. 

7. Rest when necessary. Tap the space bar.

8. Keep on going forward, one moment at a time, until the en … of that piece.

9. Have faith, breathe. There will be another song.