Day 6: It’s personal

When the 3 hostages released by Hamas after almost 500 days of captivity came home Feb. 8, 2025, these emaciated men resembled WWII holocaust survivors.  Their stories, of physical and mental torture, near starvation, of being held in cages, broke my heart, already aching  since Hamas’ brutal attack of Oct. 7, 2023.  My heart aches for all suffering, be it Palestinian, Syrian, Sudanese, or any other peoples.  But as pertains to Israel, the feeling is personal.  Israel is my ancestral home.  One we Jews have shared and still share, however imperfectly, with Palestinians and other peoples, over many years.  When I look at Israel, I am inspired by the resilience – of the hostages, of the hostage families, of the Israeli soldiers, of so many good people who, living through shattering times, still bring love and connection forward every day. 

My particular hero among so many in this middle eastern story, is a woman whose daughter was murdered at the Nova Music Festival on Oct. 7, 2023.  She’s a nurse and greets each new group of released hostages at the medical facility in Israel where they are first received after their Gaza captivity.  I have watched her in these intense moments when hostage families are reuniting; she is gracious, majestic, warm, loving - and smiling.  With all her personal loss, she is a beacon of light.   She reminds me of the resilience of my Jewish people.  A well-earned resilience honed over the multiple millennia we Jews have been hounded from place to place.  And I am grateful to be in such good company.

Music:  Beethoven Adagio cantabile, Sonata Opus 13: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1jJ-Mwu9Le0L3dT5b7XY-G-R0qLC0F7ST/view?usp=sharing 

Day 7: Flu is my blessing of this winter

I’m starting week 4 of the flu.  No, don’t feel bad for me.  It’s bitter arctic winds and low temperatures outside, snow and plates of ice everywhere.  Inside, my windows look over parks, gardens, trees, birds,  and wind.  I’m staying home except for brief excursions for provisions (food and library) and this semi-hibernation is blissful.  Piano and accordion at hand.  Eevie cat in the house.  Podcasts, streaming shows, my favorite folks I follow on social media, neighbors, friends and colleagues - close by, in person, phone, FT, zoom.  It doesn’t get much better. 

And I ponder – music, faith, my story, work, art, identity – how are they meant to manifest in this moment of my life - and the next one?  This moment I know the answer: play, explore, enjoy, grow.  The next one is still unknown: how will I re-weave all these components together? 

This journey is one of destinations unknown. As I continue to heal from flu, I have intimations.  I don’t speak them out loud; barely even speak them to myself.  I know, as a teacher taught me years ago, the trick with desires is to keep them sufficiently general that my energy can be calm and positive.  So, yes, I do wonder from time to time about what’s next.  And my intimations – they are quietly tugging at my heart and soul; eventually, they’ll mature.  For now, Bach, my #1 beloved composer, accompanies me.

Music: Bach Allemande from French Suite in E flat major, take 3: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1SrBiL3eyhWsBH8obYJ8G2FzYjSIWvjIN/view?usp=sharing

Day 8: Piano playing: war – or dance? 

My first piano teachers were clueless about bodily stress and strain.  They told me to never move at the piano; my body must be absolutely still – ramrod, like a soldier.  Playing music is a form of dancing to me – whether it’s a jig, a waltz, a march, even a dream sequence – so my body naturally wants to move as I play.  But NO! they said – moving will ruin your playing, mess up your hands, and don’t do it.  They also instructed me in the ‘correct’ way to hold my hands at the piano: palms tightly curled, wrists rigid, and fingers moving up and down like tiny machines.  The results were good – but oh did it hurt.  The longer I played, the more my hands ached.  It was a cumulative strain on my hands, over many years.   I felt my hands were at war with the piano, and my body stuck in a straight jacket.   

This all changed in my 4th decade of piano, when a new teacher introduced me to Seymour Bernstein’s book, 20 Lessons In Keyboard Choreography.  The blurb on Amazon tells it all:  “This unique book presents 'choreography' to pianists as a means of making a physical connection to musical feeling. The author has invented symbols designating finger, wrist and arm movements that will result in physical comfort and a sense of predictability and ease when performing for others.”  Yes, I had to literally relearn how to play the piano; similar perhaps to learning to walk again.  It took time and deliberate, but never painful, practice.  To this day, I am still relearning and finding deeper pockets of relaxation in my playing.

But now, piano is no longer a war on my hands and back; instead, I seek and find relaxed technique and flowing body – my new tools to making beautiful music.

My music for this week – Schubert’s Impromptu #3 – used to be excruciating for me to play.  I would somehow soldier through to the end, sounding good, but in increasing pain.  I had no staying power at the piano.  Not anymore: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1UGK7fAe6VUJ2EHiYhO76NXxmDRaYcxaH/view?usp=sharing