Sunday Funk
Stuart has spent a good chunk of the morning doing our taxes. While I've been classified as a "student" more or less all of my life (don't tell me how pathetic that is, I already know), 2006 was the first year I wasn't employed by any organization or institution. I've never earned more than a pittance. I've leaned on Stuart financially even when we were in graduate school together; he got 4 years into a PhD in biological neuroscience, a field with infinitely more available funds than music. When Daniel was born in February of last year, I took a semester off and was thus no longer qualified for an assistantship. I started up again last fall, but only part time. Hence, my only income has been what little I earn from teaching five piano students every week, and the occasional paid accompanying gig. The money I earned in 2006 was enough to cover about 70% of my tuition bill for two semesters. I know that my worth is not measured in the dollars I earn, but that's still depressing.
I mumbled something about this to Stuart, who is always reassuring in these matters, and he replied "But you're still a student! It's okay!" The problem is, I'm spectacularly UNmotivated to do any school work at this time. I've certainly had a busy semester up to this point, but none of my performances in the last two months were for credit. I need to do a lecture recital at some point before May 12. I have a topic (the Moscheles piece I played in that competition last month), I have a stack of books, some interlibrary loan requests, a few articles from JSTOR (GREAT online source of articles for folks in the Humanities), and absolutely no idea what to say or how to approach it. It doesn't help that the school of music has absolutely NO guidelines for DMA lecture recitals. I feel like I'm going into this blind. I have a musicology minor, which means that I know just enough about music history and historical research to feel absolutely unqualified to say anything with authority.
Trust me, I'm in no mood for any April Fool's jokes. I'm so gullible I fall for even the stupidest ones anyway. One year, NPR's All Things Considered did a whole story about how they were joining up with WWF (the wrestling people) in order to diversify their audience. I fell for it hook, line and sinker. Geez.
I would like to end on a more positive note, though, so here are five questions for Pam:
1. What is one unusual thing about you?
2. Name 3 of your favorite places in Boston.
3. You have been given the opportunity to present a program of your choice for a friendly audience in a prestigous recital hall. You have at your disposal any instrumentalists you need to accompany you, including a conductor (should you need one). What would you sing?
4. What opera do you secretly hate?
5. If you could do it all over again, would you still study voice?
I mumbled something about this to Stuart, who is always reassuring in these matters, and he replied "But you're still a student! It's okay!" The problem is, I'm spectacularly UNmotivated to do any school work at this time. I've certainly had a busy semester up to this point, but none of my performances in the last two months were for credit. I need to do a lecture recital at some point before May 12. I have a topic (the Moscheles piece I played in that competition last month), I have a stack of books, some interlibrary loan requests, a few articles from JSTOR (GREAT online source of articles for folks in the Humanities), and absolutely no idea what to say or how to approach it. It doesn't help that the school of music has absolutely NO guidelines for DMA lecture recitals. I feel like I'm going into this blind. I have a musicology minor, which means that I know just enough about music history and historical research to feel absolutely unqualified to say anything with authority.
Trust me, I'm in no mood for any April Fool's jokes. I'm so gullible I fall for even the stupidest ones anyway. One year, NPR's All Things Considered did a whole story about how they were joining up with WWF (the wrestling people) in order to diversify their audience. I fell for it hook, line and sinker. Geez.
I would like to end on a more positive note, though, so here are five questions for Pam:
1. What is one unusual thing about you?
2. Name 3 of your favorite places in Boston.
3. You have been given the opportunity to present a program of your choice for a friendly audience in a prestigous recital hall. You have at your disposal any instrumentalists you need to accompany you, including a conductor (should you need one). What would you sing?
4. What opera do you secretly hate?
5. If you could do it all over again, would you still study voice?
Comments