This is my last post from Iraq. We leave tomorrow afternoon. What a month it has been!
Today was a full day off for me. In the morning I met Ahmed and Omar the translators and we went around town. We dropped by the bazaar to buy gifts and also walked up to the citadel-- the original heart of Erbil. Erbil once conisted only of this town on top of the hill-- even as recently as the 1800's there was not more to the city than the citadel itself. The citadel is famous as the longest continuously inhabited structure in the world, but sadly it was almost completely evacuated a few years ago. In theory for renovation but in fact the money is being lost to corruption and the place is rapidly deteriorating. To walk through the streets is kind of eerie-- totally silent. Ahmed told me this was once the liveliest and noisiest part of the city.
At a bookstore near the Citadel I picked up a nice Kurdish phrasebook and grammar (better than the one I have been using) and I also found a large map of Kuridstan. Those of you know who know my map obsession won't be surprised at this, but I was so excited about the purchase that it was only afterwards that I realized it would be almost impossible to get this classroom-style map on my flights back! We'll see what I can wrangle out of Austrian Air.
I had lunch with Omar and Ahmed. We went to a Baghdadi-run restaurant for saj-- a type of sandwich that can best be described as an Arab burrito; chopped grilled meat rolled up in flatbread. Totally delicious and new to me; a nice meal to have on my last day in the country.
It was nice to chat more with the two guys. They are medical students here in Erbil. Omar had more disturbing, but by this time typical, stories to tell. He comes from a prominent family of doctors in Mosul and their prominence eventually led to, as he put it, a "one-way ticket" from the radical terrorists there. He described actually taking the phone call where they told him that because they respected the family's good works in the community they would give them a chance to get out of town before kidnapping and killing them. The unfortunate thing is that Omar will be required to return to Mosul when his studies are finished. He is trying to find ways to extend his studies, or better yet go to the US. Yet another frightening and painful story out of this country.
Tonight was the dance and theater concert. A total, joyous hit. It helped that the sound system and air-conditioning were working, unlike last night. But the kids ranged from adorable to truly talented and the show was high energy throughout. After the grand finale (to "You Can't Stop the Beat" from Hairspray) they pumped up the Kurdish music and all of us poured on the stage to dance together. This was truly the final goodbye to my students (and many of their parents) and there were many more hugs, kisses and tears. And some wild dancing thrown in. As I've said before, the men here tend to be very demonstrative, and several times a guy would fling his arms around me, kiss me several times on the cheek and neck, and then whirl me away to dance. On top of it all, a few guys from the US army were in attendance in uniform-- even they were swept onto the stage and danced (and were given roses by some of the Kurds-- so it's not entirely a legend!). We all wore pins of the Kurdish flag, or the Kurdish and American flags together.
So tomorrow will be packing and maybe some last minute purchases. I will be staying in Europe for ten days, and I will continue this blog for those family and friends that want to hear about any adventures there. I also plan to write up some final reflections about being here once I am out of the country. I will keep the blog open for comments, and I also may add periodic entries throughout the year as I keep in contact with students from the program. I look forward to being back in the country and seeing my friends and family again. Please be in touch, through here, my facebook page, or via e-mail!
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Erbil Concert
I'm just back from the music concert in Hewler. Beyond exhausted, but I know people get worried when I don't post...
I wish I could report that the concert was an unqualified success, but it was more like a qualified disaster. It was a good challenge, but circumstances played against us all day long.
Yesterday, I told the wind players we would have rehearsal at 1PM. I emphasized the extreme importance of this rehearsal, reminded them that they would all have to eat lunch early in order to get there, and asked them if this presented any problems. These exhortations were repeated in the smaller classes for each instrument. I trust my tanslator got it across-- he almost functions like an extension of me now. Even though he is not a musician, he has spent enough time with me to know what I am going to say and to help me explain. I've even caught him ghosting my conducting.
Anyway, 1PM rolled around. Zero players. I didn't get nervous quite yet. This is Kurdistan, and they are relaxed about schedules. 1:10, no one there. At 1:15 my clarinets, bless their hearts, showed up. And one flute. I caught Frand, the young trumpet player, in the hallway, and he told me he had thought the rehearsal was at 2-- and that's what he told Omar, who had gone off to the market. When I asked where the flutes were, they told me first that they some people didn't know when the rehearsal was, then that they were still eating lunch, then that some of them weren't going to performing at the concert that night! I finally nearly had my meltdown. The documentary cameras were rolling (an American crew has been following us around) and I actually told them to stop the cameras. It was REALLY frustrating-- it was our one chance at the stage (another rehearsal was scheduled there at 2) and there was a lot of stage managing to work out for people coming on and off for the singing. It wasn't until 1:35 that I could begin the rehearsal, and at that point there was only enough time for a quick dash through each piece and shouted directions about how the staging would work. I also told them that at the concert that evening, immediately after I played my solo they had to come backstage to have a warm-up rehearsal (we would have had a 20 minute window).
Well, you can imagine what happened. No one showed up for the warmup rehearsal until 15 minutes after they were supposed to. My grand plans for tuning, warmup, and touching up the messy flute and trumpet pieces fell apart. There was just enough time to play a tuning note when Boran burst into the room and told us we had to start immediately.
So I flung poor Frand and Omar on the stage (stage whispering one last plea "Dynamics!" in their ear as they went out. Predictably, Omar, who had never been on the stage, cracked a little under pressure and had a hard time getting through the piece. The clarinets rocked though. The Beethoven was pretty, and the audience actually started clapping when they played Old Joe Clark.
Dona Nobis Pacem was not all it could have been. The flutes fall apart the first time we play it every time, and this was no exception. We ended almost together. But as soon as they were done I had the whole group stand to sing it, and this went well. You could hear the audience hush so they could hear the melody and it came to a really nice volume as each group came in one by one. It perhaps wasn't the completely magical moment that I had envisioned, but it was definitely something that left an impression.
All day, before and after the concert, has been a constant flurry of demands for signatures, e-mail addresses, notes, photos etc. It was almost impossible even to walk down the hallway, everyone calling "teacher! teacher! Just one photo? Sign this please?" But these were some really hard goodbyes. How do you say "good-bye, good luck, and keep practicing" to someone who's heading back to Mosul, where they might slit her throat for having sheet music? Or bright, charming young Frand, headed back to Baghdad where one of our students was killed for her Western activities last year? I agree with what people have said-- we brought the students joy and exitement and love of art and this is worth a huge amount. But I want to imagine them heading back to normal lives, not this uncertain and edgy violence and fear and entrapment that so many of them seem to live in.
A reminder that even here in Erbil, all is not totally normal-- today at the hotel when I was in the lobby there was a loud bang from somewhere up the street. It was the kind of sound that in an American city would have made me raise my head for second and then go back to what I was doing. Car backfire or some other such city noise. But the doorman and the receptionist dashed towards the door and ran outside to see what wsas going on. They thought it was a bomb. It turned out that some car had blown a tire in the underpass near the hotel. But the idea of a bomb being at the top of everyone's mind was a shock. Erbil had a few car bombings when the violence was at it's height a couple years back and clearly that has left its mark.
It's very late here and I must rest. I'm going out with Ahmed and Omar the translators tomorrow morning. They're fun guys and I'm sure they'll show me interesting stuff.
I wish I could report that the concert was an unqualified success, but it was more like a qualified disaster. It was a good challenge, but circumstances played against us all day long.
Yesterday, I told the wind players we would have rehearsal at 1PM. I emphasized the extreme importance of this rehearsal, reminded them that they would all have to eat lunch early in order to get there, and asked them if this presented any problems. These exhortations were repeated in the smaller classes for each instrument. I trust my tanslator got it across-- he almost functions like an extension of me now. Even though he is not a musician, he has spent enough time with me to know what I am going to say and to help me explain. I've even caught him ghosting my conducting.
Anyway, 1PM rolled around. Zero players. I didn't get nervous quite yet. This is Kurdistan, and they are relaxed about schedules. 1:10, no one there. At 1:15 my clarinets, bless their hearts, showed up. And one flute. I caught Frand, the young trumpet player, in the hallway, and he told me he had thought the rehearsal was at 2-- and that's what he told Omar, who had gone off to the market. When I asked where the flutes were, they told me first that they some people didn't know when the rehearsal was, then that they were still eating lunch, then that some of them weren't going to performing at the concert that night! I finally nearly had my meltdown. The documentary cameras were rolling (an American crew has been following us around) and I actually told them to stop the cameras. It was REALLY frustrating-- it was our one chance at the stage (another rehearsal was scheduled there at 2) and there was a lot of stage managing to work out for people coming on and off for the singing. It wasn't until 1:35 that I could begin the rehearsal, and at that point there was only enough time for a quick dash through each piece and shouted directions about how the staging would work. I also told them that at the concert that evening, immediately after I played my solo they had to come backstage to have a warm-up rehearsal (we would have had a 20 minute window).
Well, you can imagine what happened. No one showed up for the warmup rehearsal until 15 minutes after they were supposed to. My grand plans for tuning, warmup, and touching up the messy flute and trumpet pieces fell apart. There was just enough time to play a tuning note when Boran burst into the room and told us we had to start immediately.
So I flung poor Frand and Omar on the stage (stage whispering one last plea "Dynamics!" in their ear as they went out. Predictably, Omar, who had never been on the stage, cracked a little under pressure and had a hard time getting through the piece. The clarinets rocked though. The Beethoven was pretty, and the audience actually started clapping when they played Old Joe Clark.
Dona Nobis Pacem was not all it could have been. The flutes fall apart the first time we play it every time, and this was no exception. We ended almost together. But as soon as they were done I had the whole group stand to sing it, and this went well. You could hear the audience hush so they could hear the melody and it came to a really nice volume as each group came in one by one. It perhaps wasn't the completely magical moment that I had envisioned, but it was definitely something that left an impression.
All day, before and after the concert, has been a constant flurry of demands for signatures, e-mail addresses, notes, photos etc. It was almost impossible even to walk down the hallway, everyone calling "teacher! teacher! Just one photo? Sign this please?" But these were some really hard goodbyes. How do you say "good-bye, good luck, and keep practicing" to someone who's heading back to Mosul, where they might slit her throat for having sheet music? Or bright, charming young Frand, headed back to Baghdad where one of our students was killed for her Western activities last year? I agree with what people have said-- we brought the students joy and exitement and love of art and this is worth a huge amount. But I want to imagine them heading back to normal lives, not this uncertain and edgy violence and fear and entrapment that so many of them seem to live in.
A reminder that even here in Erbil, all is not totally normal-- today at the hotel when I was in the lobby there was a loud bang from somewhere up the street. It was the kind of sound that in an American city would have made me raise my head for second and then go back to what I was doing. Car backfire or some other such city noise. But the doorman and the receptionist dashed towards the door and ran outside to see what wsas going on. They thought it was a bomb. It turned out that some car had blown a tire in the underpass near the hotel. But the idea of a bomb being at the top of everyone's mind was a shock. Erbil had a few car bombings when the violence was at it's height a couple years back and clearly that has left its mark.
It's very late here and I must rest. I'm going out with Ahmed and Omar the translators tomorrow morning. They're fun guys and I'm sure they'll show me interesting stuff.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Small Miracles
Apologies once more for the missed day. I keep on being reminded how worried people get when I miss a day. I'm flattered by all the concern.
I was out very late last night. Naz, the woman who helped us through the visa process a couple days ago, invited us to come out to the countryside to see her family's farm. In the end, only Carole and I could make it. We drove some 15 miles outside of Erbil, then got off the main road and bumped for several more miles along a barely paved road. In the car were Naz, her husband Tahir, her two young sons (who are in Carole's children's theater program) and Raz, Naz's twin sister. The older of the boys was actually quite fluent in German (he's apparently addicted to German TV shows) so he and I did a lot of the talking and some of the translation ended up being Kurdish-German-English and back.
Their farm was a lovely spot. It was on slightly higher ground so there was a nice view back to the city of Erbil. In the other direction were the higher mountains that we crossed going to Suleimani. The area is fed by an underground river, and the family actually had built a retaining pool for the water that doubled as a swimming pool. The water was actually cold! A rarity in 115-degree Erbil! Immediately on getting there, the father and two boys stripped down to their undies and dove in. I was a little shocked that the men were so free about undressing near the ladies in conservative Iraq, but, egged on by the men and Carole, I followed suit and dove in. It was incredibly refreshing, and such an unexpected pleasure-- fresh cool water under the setting sun in the middle of the desert in Iraq!
After drying off (Carole threatened to hold my towel for ransom), we went on a little walking tour of the farm. They keep geese, a couple of cows and a small herd of goats. There was also a sizeable vegetable patch, and they inisted on picking samples for us to take back to the hotel. Tomatoes, cucumbers, gourds, olives, pomegranates, etc.
As it was getting dark, we headed back to the farmhouse, where a little repast was waiting. First was some delicious "yogurt water", a treat I hadn't had before. I guess it is a byproduct of the yogurt-making process, but it is a tasty drink, cool and milky, with a very slightly sweet taste and a yeasty edge. Absolutely delicious. Roz's husband had picked up several kinds of melon in town and we gorged on the melon and nan with yogurt water. Not exactly a full meal but delicious. We talked about how the festival was going (and Roz's son talked about his favorite German soccer teams at a pace I couldn't really keep up with) and then Carole and I wandered out to check out the stars-- we were far enough from the city that the sky was really studded. The clear skies, the sound of the goats chatting with each other, and the kids playing around made for a kind of prototypical rural family evening that really took us completely out of Iraq for a bit.
Today was the last day of classes and rehearsals. The morning musicianship classes were fine, a big unit on the minor keys. There was applause after each class and a girl presented me with a gift. Touching, as always. Conducting was fine, I taught the last pattern (when there was griping that I hadn't taught 5-, 6-, and 7- beat patterns I shamed them about how useless they were). I finished up with exhortations to listen to as much music as possible and resources for getting full orchestral scores online (obviously not readily available in Iraq).
The winds have miraculously pulled themselves together, at least more than I had been expecting two days ago. The clarinets are doing TWO pieces-- the rousing version of Old Joe Clark and a Beethoven minuet which tends to alternate between whispering and honking, but sounds kind of nice in between. The turkish music specialist still gets frustrated every class, but he came up to me today to let me know that he loved me (all the strugglers seem to do that) and I told him that he was my favorite, that's why I was giving him such a hard time. Big grin.
The trumpets horrible just two days ago. When I told John this morning that I was putting them on the program, he made a face and said he wanted to hear them first before he would approve. So he dropped by trumpet class today and I think he was a little shocked at the improvement. I was very proud of my guys. I call us the "b-team"-- Baghdad, Basra, and Boston! Frand (the Baghdad kid) and I have had a lot of fun-- he speaks good English and love to tell and hear jokes. Poor Omar does his best-- Frand translates some and we do a lot of facial expressions and sign language.
The flutes struggle and struggle, but we can get through their arrangement of Dona Nobis Pacem now-- and the singing is really something. Not perfect, but hearty and with great feeling. Two of the translators, Omar and Ahmed, are in such ecstasy about it (and have attended so many classes) that they have begged to be part of the chorus even though they don't sing. The other teachers are turning up their nose at the hokiness of it but I think it's going to be very effective. We'll see how it comes off at the concert tomorrow.
This evening Carol and I went down to the center to check out the market and specifically some musical instrument shops. We actually found one that was selling french horns! There were some that were made in Korea. Not the greatest, but playable and a student could use them (single F). No supplies for fixing my broken string, but I'll play the Mozart tomorrow night on the faculty concert again and just stay on the B-flat side. Apologies to Mozart and every horn teacher in Boston.
Amazingly, my time here is almost done. The music concert is tomorrow, the dance theater the next day, and we all leave on Monday. What a trip this has been!
I was out very late last night. Naz, the woman who helped us through the visa process a couple days ago, invited us to come out to the countryside to see her family's farm. In the end, only Carole and I could make it. We drove some 15 miles outside of Erbil, then got off the main road and bumped for several more miles along a barely paved road. In the car were Naz, her husband Tahir, her two young sons (who are in Carole's children's theater program) and Raz, Naz's twin sister. The older of the boys was actually quite fluent in German (he's apparently addicted to German TV shows) so he and I did a lot of the talking and some of the translation ended up being Kurdish-German-English and back.
Their farm was a lovely spot. It was on slightly higher ground so there was a nice view back to the city of Erbil. In the other direction were the higher mountains that we crossed going to Suleimani. The area is fed by an underground river, and the family actually had built a retaining pool for the water that doubled as a swimming pool. The water was actually cold! A rarity in 115-degree Erbil! Immediately on getting there, the father and two boys stripped down to their undies and dove in. I was a little shocked that the men were so free about undressing near the ladies in conservative Iraq, but, egged on by the men and Carole, I followed suit and dove in. It was incredibly refreshing, and such an unexpected pleasure-- fresh cool water under the setting sun in the middle of the desert in Iraq!
After drying off (Carole threatened to hold my towel for ransom), we went on a little walking tour of the farm. They keep geese, a couple of cows and a small herd of goats. There was also a sizeable vegetable patch, and they inisted on picking samples for us to take back to the hotel. Tomatoes, cucumbers, gourds, olives, pomegranates, etc.
As it was getting dark, we headed back to the farmhouse, where a little repast was waiting. First was some delicious "yogurt water", a treat I hadn't had before. I guess it is a byproduct of the yogurt-making process, but it is a tasty drink, cool and milky, with a very slightly sweet taste and a yeasty edge. Absolutely delicious. Roz's husband had picked up several kinds of melon in town and we gorged on the melon and nan with yogurt water. Not exactly a full meal but delicious. We talked about how the festival was going (and Roz's son talked about his favorite German soccer teams at a pace I couldn't really keep up with) and then Carole and I wandered out to check out the stars-- we were far enough from the city that the sky was really studded. The clear skies, the sound of the goats chatting with each other, and the kids playing around made for a kind of prototypical rural family evening that really took us completely out of Iraq for a bit.
Today was the last day of classes and rehearsals. The morning musicianship classes were fine, a big unit on the minor keys. There was applause after each class and a girl presented me with a gift. Touching, as always. Conducting was fine, I taught the last pattern (when there was griping that I hadn't taught 5-, 6-, and 7- beat patterns I shamed them about how useless they were). I finished up with exhortations to listen to as much music as possible and resources for getting full orchestral scores online (obviously not readily available in Iraq).
The winds have miraculously pulled themselves together, at least more than I had been expecting two days ago. The clarinets are doing TWO pieces-- the rousing version of Old Joe Clark and a Beethoven minuet which tends to alternate between whispering and honking, but sounds kind of nice in between. The turkish music specialist still gets frustrated every class, but he came up to me today to let me know that he loved me (all the strugglers seem to do that) and I told him that he was my favorite, that's why I was giving him such a hard time. Big grin.
The trumpets horrible just two days ago. When I told John this morning that I was putting them on the program, he made a face and said he wanted to hear them first before he would approve. So he dropped by trumpet class today and I think he was a little shocked at the improvement. I was very proud of my guys. I call us the "b-team"-- Baghdad, Basra, and Boston! Frand (the Baghdad kid) and I have had a lot of fun-- he speaks good English and love to tell and hear jokes. Poor Omar does his best-- Frand translates some and we do a lot of facial expressions and sign language.
The flutes struggle and struggle, but we can get through their arrangement of Dona Nobis Pacem now-- and the singing is really something. Not perfect, but hearty and with great feeling. Two of the translators, Omar and Ahmed, are in such ecstasy about it (and have attended so many classes) that they have begged to be part of the chorus even though they don't sing. The other teachers are turning up their nose at the hokiness of it but I think it's going to be very effective. We'll see how it comes off at the concert tomorrow.
This evening Carol and I went down to the center to check out the market and specifically some musical instrument shops. We actually found one that was selling french horns! There were some that were made in Korea. Not the greatest, but playable and a student could use them (single F). No supplies for fixing my broken string, but I'll play the Mozart tomorrow night on the faculty concert again and just stay on the B-flat side. Apologies to Mozart and every horn teacher in Boston.
Amazingly, my time here is almost done. The music concert is tomorrow, the dance theater the next day, and we all leave on Monday. What a trip this has been!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Successes and failures
So today was a day of ups and downs.
It began pretty well in musician class. My musicianship classes got lessons on sonata form. I thought I developed a pretty great lesson plan for teaching it, starting with a drill on tonic/dominant and then using a Bach Invention and the Mozart C Major sonata to demonstrate. The 9 and 11:00 classes went great; there was applause at the end of each class! Who knows if they'll keep the concepts but it seemed like they were getting a grip on it (I've always thought sonata form was easy to hear if explained properly).
10:00 conducting was also fun. I found a trio in the band books arranged for instruments in every clef and transposition so I had people bring their instruments and we created a small lab orchestra for everyone to try to conduct. With 30 people in the class it was hard to give anyone more than a quick run-through and some comments but at least some people had a dose of being up front and leading for a couple of minutes. We'll do the same thing tomorrow.
I began teaching Dona Nobis Pacem in the band class. We did our breathing exercises and scales as always and then I tried to sell them on the singing. I met surprisingly little resistance. I think they realize that their voices are more pleasant to listen to than their instruments at this particular stage, and I've also noticed that Kurds seem to love to sing. I've often heard someone walking down the street suddenly break into some kind of wailing melody, charming and very expressive.
The band is learning the song quickly and it sounds quite nice. My translator was thrilled about it-- he thinks it will be a hit!
Things started to go downhill after lunch. Clarinet class was draggy. About halfway about 5 students poked their heads in the door and asked to attend the class; they were clarinet students from the area. I explained that they were welcome to listen, but since they had missed the band classes and the scale warms ups that day (as well as all the other classes) they couldn't play the pieces that we were rehearsing for the concert with us. They sat down quietly enough, but about ten minutes later, they started pestering me to let them play. "The music is easy! Why can't we play with them? Dr. ____ said we could play" Blah blah blah. John Ferguson sometimes says at the end of a day "welcome to Divastan". I stood my ground and said they couldn't play and they grumpily left.
Then came the 3:00 musicianship class. This one is dominated by the older Arab musicians from Mosul who are more experienced but less amenable to learning from me. Today, only two showed up at 3:10. On top of that, the piano sheet music that I had borrowed from Boran, the girl who does a lot of our translating, had been stolen from the piano where I had left it. This is actually not uncommon here, people are so desperate for music, but I felt terrible about having left her music lying out. Between the missing music and the small class I felt upset enough that I ended up cancelling the class for the day. Afterwards, a contingent of the guys came up to me and apologized for being late, and also Boran's musc turned up (someone was photocopying it so it was only "temporarily" stolen) so all's well that ends well.
Next was trumpet class. My trumpets are coming along with the duet. I put Umar from Basra on the first part which is easier to count and less chromatic, and the more talented younger one from Baghdad on second. The Baghdadi guy has a maid/nanny/surrogate mom who attends class with him sometimes and she has grown quite attached to the classes. I saw her singing in the band class today and invited her to sing with the group. She dresses as a rather conservative Muslim woman but she was clearly loving the music and today she pestered me with all kinds of questions about music and also about teaching and money etc. She has a son of her own who plays piano but he had to quit for at least a year because of some kind of finger injury (I didn't ask if it was a result of the Baghdad violence).
The last class of the day was the flutes. I'm still hoping to have them play the trio version of Dona Nobis before we sing it on stage but it's kind of astounding how slowly they are learning it. Everyone got sent home with desperate pleading from me to practice more.
I ate dinner tonight with one of the translators, Omar. He is an interesting guy. In med school, speaks very good English, French and Turkish (and like me bemoans the lack of a decent Kurdish textbook). He is an Arab from Mosul but has converted himself to Christianity. We had a far-ranging discussion from American culture to languages to Jewish tradition (like many, he cautioned me against letting it be known too widely that I am Jewish) to the bible and the Book of Mormon. A friendly and thoughtful guy, like many of our translators.
It began pretty well in musician class. My musicianship classes got lessons on sonata form. I thought I developed a pretty great lesson plan for teaching it, starting with a drill on tonic/dominant and then using a Bach Invention and the Mozart C Major sonata to demonstrate. The 9 and 11:00 classes went great; there was applause at the end of each class! Who knows if they'll keep the concepts but it seemed like they were getting a grip on it (I've always thought sonata form was easy to hear if explained properly).
10:00 conducting was also fun. I found a trio in the band books arranged for instruments in every clef and transposition so I had people bring their instruments and we created a small lab orchestra for everyone to try to conduct. With 30 people in the class it was hard to give anyone more than a quick run-through and some comments but at least some people had a dose of being up front and leading for a couple of minutes. We'll do the same thing tomorrow.
I began teaching Dona Nobis Pacem in the band class. We did our breathing exercises and scales as always and then I tried to sell them on the singing. I met surprisingly little resistance. I think they realize that their voices are more pleasant to listen to than their instruments at this particular stage, and I've also noticed that Kurds seem to love to sing. I've often heard someone walking down the street suddenly break into some kind of wailing melody, charming and very expressive.
The band is learning the song quickly and it sounds quite nice. My translator was thrilled about it-- he thinks it will be a hit!
Things started to go downhill after lunch. Clarinet class was draggy. About halfway about 5 students poked their heads in the door and asked to attend the class; they were clarinet students from the area. I explained that they were welcome to listen, but since they had missed the band classes and the scale warms ups that day (as well as all the other classes) they couldn't play the pieces that we were rehearsing for the concert with us. They sat down quietly enough, but about ten minutes later, they started pestering me to let them play. "The music is easy! Why can't we play with them? Dr. ____ said we could play" Blah blah blah. John Ferguson sometimes says at the end of a day "welcome to Divastan". I stood my ground and said they couldn't play and they grumpily left.
Then came the 3:00 musicianship class. This one is dominated by the older Arab musicians from Mosul who are more experienced but less amenable to learning from me. Today, only two showed up at 3:10. On top of that, the piano sheet music that I had borrowed from Boran, the girl who does a lot of our translating, had been stolen from the piano where I had left it. This is actually not uncommon here, people are so desperate for music, but I felt terrible about having left her music lying out. Between the missing music and the small class I felt upset enough that I ended up cancelling the class for the day. Afterwards, a contingent of the guys came up to me and apologized for being late, and also Boran's musc turned up (someone was photocopying it so it was only "temporarily" stolen) so all's well that ends well.
Next was trumpet class. My trumpets are coming along with the duet. I put Umar from Basra on the first part which is easier to count and less chromatic, and the more talented younger one from Baghdad on second. The Baghdadi guy has a maid/nanny/surrogate mom who attends class with him sometimes and she has grown quite attached to the classes. I saw her singing in the band class today and invited her to sing with the group. She dresses as a rather conservative Muslim woman but she was clearly loving the music and today she pestered me with all kinds of questions about music and also about teaching and money etc. She has a son of her own who plays piano but he had to quit for at least a year because of some kind of finger injury (I didn't ask if it was a result of the Baghdad violence).
The last class of the day was the flutes. I'm still hoping to have them play the trio version of Dona Nobis before we sing it on stage but it's kind of astounding how slowly they are learning it. Everyone got sent home with desperate pleading from me to practice more.
I ate dinner tonight with one of the translators, Omar. He is an interesting guy. In med school, speaks very good English, French and Turkish (and like me bemoans the lack of a decent Kurdish textbook). He is an Arab from Mosul but has converted himself to Christianity. We had a far-ranging discussion from American culture to languages to Jewish tradition (like many, he cautioned me against letting it be known too widely that I am Jewish) to the bible and the Book of Mormon. A friendly and thoughtful guy, like many of our translators.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Dona Nobis Flautistem
Sorry for the delay once more-- the teaching here is intense and I don't have a lot of focus left at the end of the day.
As in Sule, I have gotten used to the rhythm of the teaching and am having fun with the students, even though I am in some ways even more out of my element than I was there.
My musicianship classes are going just fine. They are getting sick of clapping rhythms back at me, but since they still aren't really good at reading them, they'll have to suffer. I did take a break from the rhythms today and went over basic musical terms. Everything was fine until I got to "legato". They are taught that the term is symonymous with "slur" and for me it definitely is not. I almost came to blows with my third class which is mostly older Arab teachers from Mosul. I kind of stuck to my guns though, because it seems to affect the way they play. Since for them a "legato" is only when you slur, they don't seem able to play a legato bow change (most are string players). I discussed this with James and he agreed so I'm redefining legato in Iraq, at least for this week.
Conducting is also fine. We did 3/4 today and discussed some rehearsal technique. Tomorrow I'm going to try to create a mini lab-orchestra. Should be interesting (but chaotic).
My wind players are ok. The level is so low and it's frustrating for me that I don't know ANYTHING about woodwind fingerings. Since the problems are often basic fingering problems, it takes a while to figure things out sometimes. But I do a lot of breathing and scale exercises with them and I haven't had any attrition the way I did in Sule. The flutes, who several days ago were claiming that the music was to easy, now have requested to have class at the end of the day so that they can have an hour and a half instead of just one hour! The whole class did badger me today about being the final performance. I hadn't expected to be in the performance-- the crew is simply too motley to be able to create a band-- but they clearly have their hearts set on it, so I'm getting creative.
The clarinets are the honking-est bunch I've ever heard. We continue to refine "Old Joe Clark" and I think I may put it on the concert. When they pound out the accents at the end of the phrase, I start channeling the fiddling I used to hear in Poughkeepsie. There's one poor guy in the class who is having an exceptionally difficult time. He is trained as a "turkish-style" player. He's always wailing and noodling in the lobbies (to me it sounds a lot like klezmer) but in class he can't read two notes in a row to save his life. I'm trying to keep him encouraged and he always comes in on the accents!
The trumpets are a tough case. One is a 14-year-old from Baghdad. We would consider him decently talented for his age in the US-- which means that he is probably one of the top players in Iraq. The other is a determined fellow from Basra who again, can barely read notes and doesn't really know fingerings. I'm trying to find a duet that they can perform together but it will be hard to get something appropriate.
The flutes are a LOT of work. One or two okay players but the rest are also struggling with note-reading and fingerings. I found a nice little arrangement of "Dona Nobis Pacem" for flute trio and I thought it might be a pice for the group. Not too difficult and certainly a propos for Iraq. But I overestimated my flutes-- 70 minutes of intense rehearsal and they could barely get through the first 8 bars without falling apart. But I had a bit of an inspiration. I asked them to sing their parts (to work on rhythmic issues without their instruments and they actually sounded quite lovely. So now I'm thinking of having a small group play the arrangement and then have the whole band sing the tune in traditional canon. I think it might be quite effective.
I went shopping with James and Rick (one of the dance teachers) and dropped the idea to James. I asked if he thought I might be biting off more than I could chew trying to be a chorus director. He pointed out that I was already teaching 8 things that weren't really my specialty-- what could one more hurt?
Amazingly, we have less than a week left here so I'm starting to make plans beyond Iraq. I will travel in central Europe for ten days on my way back to the US-- I will be in Vienna and Budapest and perhaps somewhere in Croatia-- Zagreb or Dubrovnik. If anyone reading this lives in Europe or will be traveling around then, let me know!
As in Sule, I have gotten used to the rhythm of the teaching and am having fun with the students, even though I am in some ways even more out of my element than I was there.
My musicianship classes are going just fine. They are getting sick of clapping rhythms back at me, but since they still aren't really good at reading them, they'll have to suffer. I did take a break from the rhythms today and went over basic musical terms. Everything was fine until I got to "legato". They are taught that the term is symonymous with "slur" and for me it definitely is not. I almost came to blows with my third class which is mostly older Arab teachers from Mosul. I kind of stuck to my guns though, because it seems to affect the way they play. Since for them a "legato" is only when you slur, they don't seem able to play a legato bow change (most are string players). I discussed this with James and he agreed so I'm redefining legato in Iraq, at least for this week.
Conducting is also fine. We did 3/4 today and discussed some rehearsal technique. Tomorrow I'm going to try to create a mini lab-orchestra. Should be interesting (but chaotic).
My wind players are ok. The level is so low and it's frustrating for me that I don't know ANYTHING about woodwind fingerings. Since the problems are often basic fingering problems, it takes a while to figure things out sometimes. But I do a lot of breathing and scale exercises with them and I haven't had any attrition the way I did in Sule. The flutes, who several days ago were claiming that the music was to easy, now have requested to have class at the end of the day so that they can have an hour and a half instead of just one hour! The whole class did badger me today about being the final performance. I hadn't expected to be in the performance-- the crew is simply too motley to be able to create a band-- but they clearly have their hearts set on it, so I'm getting creative.
The clarinets are the honking-est bunch I've ever heard. We continue to refine "Old Joe Clark" and I think I may put it on the concert. When they pound out the accents at the end of the phrase, I start channeling the fiddling I used to hear in Poughkeepsie. There's one poor guy in the class who is having an exceptionally difficult time. He is trained as a "turkish-style" player. He's always wailing and noodling in the lobbies (to me it sounds a lot like klezmer) but in class he can't read two notes in a row to save his life. I'm trying to keep him encouraged and he always comes in on the accents!
The trumpets are a tough case. One is a 14-year-old from Baghdad. We would consider him decently talented for his age in the US-- which means that he is probably one of the top players in Iraq. The other is a determined fellow from Basra who again, can barely read notes and doesn't really know fingerings. I'm trying to find a duet that they can perform together but it will be hard to get something appropriate.
The flutes are a LOT of work. One or two okay players but the rest are also struggling with note-reading and fingerings. I found a nice little arrangement of "Dona Nobis Pacem" for flute trio and I thought it might be a pice for the group. Not too difficult and certainly a propos for Iraq. But I overestimated my flutes-- 70 minutes of intense rehearsal and they could barely get through the first 8 bars without falling apart. But I had a bit of an inspiration. I asked them to sing their parts (to work on rhythmic issues without their instruments and they actually sounded quite lovely. So now I'm thinking of having a small group play the arrangement and then have the whole band sing the tune in traditional canon. I think it might be quite effective.
I went shopping with James and Rick (one of the dance teachers) and dropped the idea to James. I asked if he thought I might be biting off more than I could chew trying to be a chorus director. He pointed out that I was already teaching 8 things that weren't really my specialty-- what could one more hurt?
Amazingly, we have less than a week left here so I'm starting to make plans beyond Iraq. I will travel in central Europe for ten days on my way back to the US-- I will be in Vienna and Budapest and perhaps somewhere in Croatia-- Zagreb or Dubrovnik. If anyone reading this lives in Europe or will be traveling around then, let me know!
Sunday, July 20, 2008
The Pee-Wee Herman Look
Sorry for the day's hiatus in posting. The teaching schedule in Erbil is grueling and we had a long evening recording for a TV broadcast as well so I was in no shape to write late last night.
So I will be beamed around the world on satellite TV! Those of you who receive Kurdish International TV (Zoraya), be prepared! After the heavy day of teaching last night, we were bussed over to their studios in a far corner of Erbil. The lots were dusty and small children and chickens were wandering around. (Michael's comment: "This don't look like no satellite television station! This is AM RADIO!!") But they did have a little sound stage. And they sicced a hair-and-makeup guy on all of us. Everyone got a standard blowdry and hairspray look except for me-- for some reason the makeup guy got over-excited and slicked my hair up into a dramatic faux-hawk, then hair-sprayed it into a point that could have drawn blood. I LOVED the look. The other guys told me it made me look like Pee-Wee Herman.
My horn is still broken. I played a little Mozart all on B-flat horn. The studio was hot so I was sharp, I was playing with an electric keyboard and anyway I haven't been able to dig in and practice hard for weeks now so it was a mixed performance. I signed the release anyhow. The other guys played the Bach Double (me turning pages for James playing continuo) and Michael sang some showtunes. This was all courtesy of a violinist named Mr. Sirhan who is some kind of bigwig in the culture ministry and a very nice guy (although he wanted to do unlimited takes of the Bach until we complained of heatstroke from the lights...). We finished up late.
Today was the second full day of teaching. I now have three sections of my musicianship class-- 9, 11 and 3PM. So far they have gone surprisingly well. I spend a lot of time doing clap-and-response and then rhythmic training exercises I get out of a band book. The second half of the class is ear-training. I've mostly stuck with the basic divisions-- consonance and dissonance. They are doing okay and getting better with it. I played the first movement of Beethoven Moonlight Sonata at the end of each class today to demonstrate the handling of dissonance and it was fun to hear them murmuring "konts, diss, konts" (my Kurdish neologisms for consonance and dissonance) as I played.
The conducting class is still popular, but as I am rapidly going to run out of things to teach, I'm dropping the class to once every other day. I'm bombarding them with conducting theory-- MY conducting theory. Either I will create a new school of great conducting or Kurdistan will be doomed to permanent obscurity as a result of my teaching. (Teaching here makes one feel grandiose.)
Teaching in Erbil is more of a challenge then Sulemany. The classes are bigger, the level is generally lower (my trombone player would SHINE compared to some of the players here), and also we have students from the arabic parts of Iraq so we often need translators into both Kurdish and Arabic. My wind class is grumbling that the pieces we are working on are too easy, although of course even these they can't play properly. So it goes. I didn't think I was going to have any performing groups, but I got my clarinet section to honk recognizably through a trio version of Old Joe Clark today and I think I may throw them on stage.
Tomorrow we finally sort out our visa status. I have been illegally in Kurdistan for over a week now! We will have to pay some sort of fine at the visa office for which American Voices will reimburse us. Hopefully we won't get thrown into any Iraqi prisons.
So I will be beamed around the world on satellite TV! Those of you who receive Kurdish International TV (Zoraya), be prepared! After the heavy day of teaching last night, we were bussed over to their studios in a far corner of Erbil. The lots were dusty and small children and chickens were wandering around. (Michael's comment: "This don't look like no satellite television station! This is AM RADIO!!") But they did have a little sound stage. And they sicced a hair-and-makeup guy on all of us. Everyone got a standard blowdry and hairspray look except for me-- for some reason the makeup guy got over-excited and slicked my hair up into a dramatic faux-hawk, then hair-sprayed it into a point that could have drawn blood. I LOVED the look. The other guys told me it made me look like Pee-Wee Herman.
My horn is still broken. I played a little Mozart all on B-flat horn. The studio was hot so I was sharp, I was playing with an electric keyboard and anyway I haven't been able to dig in and practice hard for weeks now so it was a mixed performance. I signed the release anyhow. The other guys played the Bach Double (me turning pages for James playing continuo) and Michael sang some showtunes. This was all courtesy of a violinist named Mr. Sirhan who is some kind of bigwig in the culture ministry and a very nice guy (although he wanted to do unlimited takes of the Bach until we complained of heatstroke from the lights...). We finished up late.
Today was the second full day of teaching. I now have three sections of my musicianship class-- 9, 11 and 3PM. So far they have gone surprisingly well. I spend a lot of time doing clap-and-response and then rhythmic training exercises I get out of a band book. The second half of the class is ear-training. I've mostly stuck with the basic divisions-- consonance and dissonance. They are doing okay and getting better with it. I played the first movement of Beethoven Moonlight Sonata at the end of each class today to demonstrate the handling of dissonance and it was fun to hear them murmuring "konts, diss, konts" (my Kurdish neologisms for consonance and dissonance) as I played.
The conducting class is still popular, but as I am rapidly going to run out of things to teach, I'm dropping the class to once every other day. I'm bombarding them with conducting theory-- MY conducting theory. Either I will create a new school of great conducting or Kurdistan will be doomed to permanent obscurity as a result of my teaching. (Teaching here makes one feel grandiose.)
Teaching in Erbil is more of a challenge then Sulemany. The classes are bigger, the level is generally lower (my trombone player would SHINE compared to some of the players here), and also we have students from the arabic parts of Iraq so we often need translators into both Kurdish and Arabic. My wind class is grumbling that the pieces we are working on are too easy, although of course even these they can't play properly. So it goes. I didn't think I was going to have any performing groups, but I got my clarinet section to honk recognizably through a trio version of Old Joe Clark today and I think I may throw them on stage.
Tomorrow we finally sort out our visa status. I have been illegally in Kurdistan for over a week now! We will have to pay some sort of fine at the visa office for which American Voices will reimburse us. Hopefully we won't get thrown into any Iraqi prisons.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Howling in Hewler
Greetings from Hewler/Hawler/Erbil!
Thanks for the sympathetic response to my medical kvetching. Today was a good day, although I no longer take for granted that it's a sign of recovery. Treatment continues and we'll hope for the best. In the meantime, we got started on the next phase of the academy here in Erbil.
There are many things that will make this a very different experience. One interesting change is that there are many more Arabs coming from points south. We have a contingent from Basra, some from Mosul and even a few from Baghdad. I'm excited to have some true diversity and unifying going on, although translation is now even more difficult-- we either need bilingual translators or two at the same time.
I taught my wind class this morning. The level is considerably lower than in Suleimani. I knew I was in trouble when one of my flute players bounced to the front and came out with Minuet in G with B-flats and F-naturals. She couldn't hear that it was wrong and she also didn't know the fingerings for the correct notes! A woodwind specialist I'm not so it's going to be quite something to manage this class. I broke out the beginning band books that we're going to be donating and I think I'm going to start everyone in the class close to the beginning.
I do have a young trumpet player from Baghdad with some potential. His older sister plays in the National Symphony in Baghdad so there's some decent music at home. He speaks some English so we were able to have a private lesson.
When word got around that I was teaching a conducting class, I was mobbed by students who all envisioned themselves becoming the first great Kurdish conductor. I'm afraid of creating monsters (nowhere is it more true than in conducting that "a little knowledge is a dangerous thing"), so anyone taking the conducting class is going to be strictly required to take my musicianship class as well. That is going to be be basic reading of rhythms, sight-singing and rudimentary ear-training. How I will accomplish this with no classroom experience and no materials will be an exercise in patience in creativity, but since it turns out I'll be teaching three of these courses every day I'll have a lot of practice.
Although I'll have no band here and probably won't give any performances it seems that I will be even busier. We teachers are bemoaning the huge number of students and generally low level here. It's somewhat frustrating because there's no criteria for admission and some people have no instrument and hardly any music experience at all. (James reports that one cellist reported that he had played once "for nearly an hour"). So all of us are going to be doing a lot of basics teaching which can be interesting but is hardly what we're trained or equipped to do.
One does realize the difficulties that students from some of the other cities have. Many students in my class showed up today with no sheet music to play. Although some of them had no excuse, I was told that in Mosul, it's dangerous to carry around sheet music because the roaming fundamentalist gangs will beat you or even slit your throat for posessing such subversive materials. Makes the problem of disturbing neighbors when practicing at home seem quite small in comparison...
A bright spot in Erbil is that the facility is generally much better. Although finding enough classroom space is still a bit of a struggle, there won't be nearly so many rehearsals in hallways and lobbies as there were in Sule. I'll have an actual piano on which to teach my musicianship class (although it will be dreadfully out of tune, making consonance/dissonance recognition difficult). Also the cafeteria serves large and hearty meals which will be most welcome after all the hours of teaching. Combine that with a hotel that has actual windows that admit daylight in the mornings and I feel like I'm in the lap of luxury here!
Any inspirations on teaching basic ear-training with no materials will be most welcome-- either specific ideas or websites that have resources. I will be winging it and voices of experience would be very useful!
Thanks for the sympathetic response to my medical kvetching. Today was a good day, although I no longer take for granted that it's a sign of recovery. Treatment continues and we'll hope for the best. In the meantime, we got started on the next phase of the academy here in Erbil.
There are many things that will make this a very different experience. One interesting change is that there are many more Arabs coming from points south. We have a contingent from Basra, some from Mosul and even a few from Baghdad. I'm excited to have some true diversity and unifying going on, although translation is now even more difficult-- we either need bilingual translators or two at the same time.
I taught my wind class this morning. The level is considerably lower than in Suleimani. I knew I was in trouble when one of my flute players bounced to the front and came out with Minuet in G with B-flats and F-naturals. She couldn't hear that it was wrong and she also didn't know the fingerings for the correct notes! A woodwind specialist I'm not so it's going to be quite something to manage this class. I broke out the beginning band books that we're going to be donating and I think I'm going to start everyone in the class close to the beginning.
I do have a young trumpet player from Baghdad with some potential. His older sister plays in the National Symphony in Baghdad so there's some decent music at home. He speaks some English so we were able to have a private lesson.
When word got around that I was teaching a conducting class, I was mobbed by students who all envisioned themselves becoming the first great Kurdish conductor. I'm afraid of creating monsters (nowhere is it more true than in conducting that "a little knowledge is a dangerous thing"), so anyone taking the conducting class is going to be strictly required to take my musicianship class as well. That is going to be be basic reading of rhythms, sight-singing and rudimentary ear-training. How I will accomplish this with no classroom experience and no materials will be an exercise in patience in creativity, but since it turns out I'll be teaching three of these courses every day I'll have a lot of practice.
Although I'll have no band here and probably won't give any performances it seems that I will be even busier. We teachers are bemoaning the huge number of students and generally low level here. It's somewhat frustrating because there's no criteria for admission and some people have no instrument and hardly any music experience at all. (James reports that one cellist reported that he had played once "for nearly an hour"). So all of us are going to be doing a lot of basics teaching which can be interesting but is hardly what we're trained or equipped to do.
One does realize the difficulties that students from some of the other cities have. Many students in my class showed up today with no sheet music to play. Although some of them had no excuse, I was told that in Mosul, it's dangerous to carry around sheet music because the roaming fundamentalist gangs will beat you or even slit your throat for posessing such subversive materials. Makes the problem of disturbing neighbors when practicing at home seem quite small in comparison...
A bright spot in Erbil is that the facility is generally much better. Although finding enough classroom space is still a bit of a struggle, there won't be nearly so many rehearsals in hallways and lobbies as there were in Sule. I'll have an actual piano on which to teach my musicianship class (although it will be dreadfully out of tune, making consonance/dissonance recognition difficult). Also the cafeteria serves large and hearty meals which will be most welcome after all the hours of teaching. Combine that with a hotel that has actual windows that admit daylight in the mornings and I feel like I'm in the lap of luxury here!
Any inspirations on teaching basic ear-training with no materials will be most welcome-- either specific ideas or websites that have resources. I will be winging it and voices of experience would be very useful!
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