Merry Christmas, dear friends!

Some holiday traditions remain timeless: I spent Christmas Eve celebrating my mom's birthday, eating delicious Korean food with my family, watching It's a Wonderful Life (it made me weep—how I love classic films!), singing carols at church in a beautiful candlelight service, and getting lots of sleep. Each year the holiday season fills me with profound gratitude and hope for peace on earth.

In honor of the twelve days of Christmas, I thought I would list twelve musical highlights of my year.

Starting with the most recent:

1. Esperanza Educational Fund Benefit Concert in DC. An important cause + terrific people + an elegant venue + raising over $10,000 toward college scholarships for immigrant students = one memorable evening!

2. Recording Session in Deutschland. I spent three full and fulfilling days recording my first commercial solo album in the charming village of Neumarkt. Some indelible mementos: the constant tolling of the bells from a nearby cathedral, interrupting many a take; earning battle wounds—"I've got blisters on my fingers!" to quote the Beatles—while tearing through the glissandi in "La Valse" at the end of a long day; consuming (with the crew, natürlich!) bottle after bottle of Volvic water, canteens of green tea, Whole Foods pretzels, an assortment of German biscuits, Riesen chocolates, and fruit; daily meals at the local Park Café; playing my heart out in pieces I've known for years (like the "Liebestod") and pieces I had just learned (selections from Rachmaninov's Morceaux de salon); communicating in a hybrid of English-German-French-Italian-Korean to my international crew (noch einmal!); sharing focused and fun interactions with my fantastiche recording personnel (who have surely seen more sides of me in three days than most people get to in years of knowing me); and cherishing the acoustics, instrument, and legacy of such a historic venue.

3. Kennedy Center/Alice Tully Hall/Smith College concerts. In the span of one week, I gave a solo recital presented by the Korean Concert Society at the Kennedy Center's Terrace Theater, a performance of Beethoven's piano-duet version of the Grosse Fuge with Greg Anderson at The Juilliard School's Manuscript Collection gala at Lincoln Center, and a performance of Rachmaninoff's Second Suite for Two Pianos with Judith Gordon at Smith College's Rachmaninoff Centennial Celebration. (Fascinating tidbit: Rachmaninoff gave his North American debut at Smith in 1909!) Needless to say, it was an intense week of commuting, practicing, rehearsing, cramming, performing, and embracing the mad rush.

4. Mendelssohn Bicentennial Celebration. Under the baton of Maestro Alan Heatherington, I performed Mendelssohn's ebullient First Piano Concerto with the Ars Viva Symphony Orchestra. Excellent orchestra & conductor, marvelous audience (my hometown crowd!), and music of timeless beauty and excitement.

5. Cyprus. My duo partner Greg and I had a blast in Cyprus! We performed in the lovely Pallas Theatre and gave the world première of For Whom?, by the wonderful Nicolas Constantinou (who dedicated the piece to us). In addition to performing, we were treated to warm Cypriot hospitality, awe-inspiring sights of ancient ruins, and moments of relaxation on the shores of the glorious Mediterranean.

6. New Anglophilia. Perhaps the biggest milestone of my year was relocating to Western Mass to start a two-year professorship at Smith College. (My official title: "Visiting Artist and Lecturer in Piano.") In September I officially started teaching, and I also collaborated with violinist Joel Pitchon (Smith faculty member) and clarinetist Michael Sussmann (UMass faculty member) in the Five College New Music Festival. Now that I've completed my first semester of teaching, I can unequivocally say that I love my job: teaching and mentoring young women is truly rewarding. Also, I absolutely love being surrounded by nature. One of the best things is looking up at the sky on clear nights . . . I never fail to gasp in amazement at all the stars.

7. (Less than 500) Days of Summer. Non-musically, I was principally occupied with moving out of NYC and up to Massachusetts. Musically, I made solo and duo appearances in New York, Milwaukee, Santa Barbara, Portland, Washington DC, and upstate New York.

8. Spring duo escapades. Greg and I kept busy during the spring; we performed on both coasts, from TriBeCa, New Jersey, and the Rainbow Room at Rockefeller Center, to Oregon and Washington state. Some highlights: premiering our cover of Radiohead's "Paranoid Android" (and maneuvering a diminutive Smart Car!) in Spokane, filming high-octane music videos in a bustling apartment and on a vast stage, driving along the magical Oregon coastline, wandering in majestic redwood forests, and taking an impromptu photo shoot in random hall- and alleyways of Manhattan.

9. Barber and Brahms. In April, I performed two of my favorite pieces: the Barber Piano Concerto (with the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra) and the Brahms Piano Quintet (with the Parker Quartet). Two epic works, two enjoyable collaborations.

10. Inaugural Juilliard in Aiken Festival. In addition to giving a master class to high school pianists from the Governor's School and a warmly-received solo recital at the Aiken County Historical Museum, I performed chamber music with the wonderful Biava Quartet in the Final Showcase concert, enjoyed Southern hospitality at its finest, and witnessed the power of music in uplifting a community. (See photos here: http://juilliardinaiken.com/2009gallery.html)

11. Bon hiver. My 2009 commenced with a sold-out Anderson & Roe Duo concert in Florida (cheers to our delightful hosts, Marie and Goody!), a Carnegie Hall "Making Music" concert at Zankel Hall (where I reunited with Ensemble ACJW to play orchestral celesta and keyboard), and a concerto appearance with the Sheboygan Symphony Orchestra led by the superb conductor Andrews Sill in Beethoven's Third Piano Concerto. An appropriately diverse start to a year full of musical variety!

12. Extras. My favorite albums of the year: Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix (Phoenix); xx (The xx), Two Suns (Bat for Lashes), and Manners (Passion Pit). And, of course, MJ's brilliance lives on in his legendary music videos and phenomenal hits.

Peace, Light, Love, and Joy to you all! EJR

falling into place

The act or idea of falling has somehow accrued a negative association—to many, falling connotes failure of some sort. But to me falling can be liberating: letting go of control, detaching from ego-driven concerns and priorities, and surrendering to gravity, if not to life itself... Music and metaphor are always linked, but we usually speak of music's meaning and its effects on us in generalities (i.e. "This is a pretty love song," "this piece makes me sad," etc.). While there is certainly nothing wrong with such platitudes per se, I get inspired when impressions of a more colorful, visceral nature will alight upon me, as in this afternoon: while practicing a particular passage in Rachmaninoff's Etude Tableau Op. 33 No. 8, in which the figurations vertiginously plummet downward, I was somehow reminded of the physical/psychological/emotional/mental/visual/poetic connotations of falling: the heady exhilaration of falling in love, the relief of descending into sleep after an exhausting day, the helpless crumbling to one's knees in despair or pain, the slapstick comedian's gutsy pratfall, the refreshing sensation of plunging into a deep pool, the momentous collapse of once iron-clad political regimes, the vertical lines of rain cascading from unseen heights, the heavy velvet curtain swooping down to the stage at the end of an act, the ruddy sun setting and dropping into the infinite horizon, the shedding of illusory facades to reveal the heart of the matter...

OK, so maybe these are pretty generic after all, but my point is that the labyrinthine notes on the page and washes of sound can hold the key to our exterior and innermost realities. So let's fall into music in all its mystery, power, seduction, and limitlessness.

who needs a life less ordinary?

On the subway today, I was surprised to find a profound quote printed on the back of my MetroCard (from one of my favorite novels, no less: George Eliot's epic Middlemarch). It definitely gave me food for thought during my ride home.

Here's the quote: "We do not expect people to be deeply moved by what is not unusual.... If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence."

These words—and the fact that such wisdom even appeared on something as mundane as a transit pass!—remind me that within the seemingly ordinary lies an amazement that our limited comprehension usually bypasses; we must open our eyes, ears, minds, and hearts to experience the divinity that is latent everywhere and in everyone.

lights, camera, action!

Audio, video, disco (i.e. "I hear, I see, I learn" in Latin) . . . literally!

Here are two videos for your viewing enjoyment:

1) A three-part documentary short on the Children's Music Campaign NYC (filmed in May & June 2008):

http://www.acjw.org/cmcnyc_videos.html

Here is what I wrote in the introduction to one of the segments:

Pass It On—At the heart of CMCNYC's mission is to pass on the gift of music. We believe that the universal language of music is one of the most powerful ways of bringing people together. Each human being can make a difference, even with something as simple as a song. How? Music can symbolize our shared humanity; represent our views of the world; provide us with a healthy outlet of expression; manifest our thoughts, emotions, and ideals; and engender greater harmony and understanding. While working on this project, I was struck by the connective thread that ran between me and my colleagues; and our students, schools, and communities. Numerous individuals—of diverse ages, cultural backgrounds, personalities, and abilities—joined together in the unified pursuit of making beautiful music. As I witnessed my students create and collaborate, I realized that we as Teaching Artists are simply there to pass on our passion, to start a chain of positive acts, and to light the artistic fuse that is already latent within these bright young souls. They, in turn, enrich our lives beyond words, giving us infinite inspiration to keep our music and our dreams alive.—Elizabeth Joy Roe

It is the one-year anniversary of CMCNYC's culminating concert at Carnegie Hall. Ah, the memories...

2) A brand-new Anderson & Roe Piano Duo music video (filmed last month):



"Variety is the very spice of life that gives it all its flavour." -William Cowper

technical issues

Hello everyone,

For the next couple of weeks, please refer to this blog for the latest updates—there are computer-related issues precluding website updates at the moment.

Happy spring!
EJR

Happiness is...

...immersing myself in the most gorgeous, glorious, brilliant, endlessly fascinating music. Working on such music makes me think of something Ralph Waldo Emerson (whose immortally resonant prose remains an eternal source of inspiration to me) wrote: "Underneath the inharmonious and trivial particulars, is a musical perfection; the Ideal journeying always with us, the heaven without rent or seam."

connections between two ostensibly diametrical worlds

I could be imagining things, but consider this: lately I've been working on Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition and as I was dissecting "Gnomus" (the second piece of the set) I was struck by its striking similarity to—and possible influence on—Björk's song "Possibly Maybe" from her epic album Post. Just listen to the opening motive of "Gnomus" and the electronic riff of the song's intro. Is there a connection? Possibly maybe...

Another salute to the extraordinary Björk appears in the latest issue of Rolling Stone. Check out Chris Martin's beautifully written tribute here: The One Hundred Greatest Singers of All Time.

Speaking of Chris Martin (the frontman of Coldplay), I came upon a recent remark of his which resonated with me: “If you allow yourself to be vulnerable in your music, people will feel it a lot more. But a lot more people will also hate it or mock it. It’s almost like a deal with the devil, but I’m happy to take that deal. It doesn’t feel right to me to sing about stuff I don’t believe in.”