Op 10, No 2, for Maisie

 Sometimes you just play, no matter what else is going on. You do it because you can and someday maybe you won’t be able to. Or you do it because it is your first love, the thing you gave as an answer when adults asked you what you wanted to “be” when you grew up. Or you do it because Maisie is just laying there serenely and while away from her family seems calmed by the piano and in a few days you are getting surgery and you also had surgery not that long ago and post operatively no matter how much you want to play you will not, you cannot.

Maisie knows me mainly as a pianist. For years now I descend upon her home early mornings or weekends and play with one of her people. Or she comes over with her person and plays here. Maisie finds Monk fairly obnoxious. Which I don’t really get, but I don’t speak dog so who knows what he is saying to her. Mostly he’s a goofball whereas Maisie is more on the classy side.

Opus 10 number 2 is, if I remember correctly, the first Beethoven Sonata I ever played. I probably nailed it at age 8, and truthfully at 7 times that age now and with very little recent practicing (see above re surgery), it’s a bit rough, or should I say ruff? It’s OK though. This piece is a lark. A little piece that Ludwig could probably improvise with his 2 pinky fingers while holding a conversation regarding the importance of art and music in the true understanding of human nature. I love its lightness. It doesn’t seem too concerned with itself. But still it delights. Maisie might find it meh-sie but she also may be dreaming about the beach and the woods and bacon and everything good. 

Right at this very moment, despite an unstable spinal cord, I can play piano well enough. In fact my recent surgery fixed a fumbling right hand. The next surgery will get a nice protective moat around my spinal palace, so it may continue to reign over my body with stable decision making and jewel-like precision. If only certain other folks in power would do the same…

Sometimes you just have to play, even when the world is in chaos. I do love Beethoven but my main go-to recently has been Bach. The Well-Tempered Clavier with its 48 preludes and fugues provides endless challenge, while it is also comforting in its familiarity. It is ordered and perfect and stable. Stability is underrated and overlooked. Like breathing it is often forgotten until it disappears or is threatened. The breath of the holy spirit as well as the wind and fire is celebrated on this day of Pentecost, the 50th day after Easter. If Bach is the breath, Beethoven is the wind and fire. A Shining Star, giving strength to carry on, yeah.

Just Maisie it’ll all be OK.

Opus 10, No 1, for Monk

 This the fifth sonata was part of a group of three that the 1798 (or so) press reviewed as “three nice sonatas”. I am not sure anything by Beethoven can really be called “nice”, unless said in an edgy drawl, “noiicccccee”. Anyway this sonata is Mozartean in the way a single wrong note is like showing up to a work meeting naked. It doesn’t exactly ruin the meeting but no one really wanted to see that over morning coffee.

Playing Beethoven for dogs will not change the world, but it might bring joy (to me? to the dogs? to someone walking by?) and joy, they say, can be an act of resistance. Playing Beethoven for dogs does not express the grief of the execution of Renee Good just blocks away from the execution of George Floyd. Maybe it does send out some well-crafted sound waves into the atmosphere, serving as an antidote to the venom of hate.

When I lived in Minneapolis I enjoyed eating ice cream when it was 20 degrees below zero. I once left the music school at the U and was met by about 30 angry looking raccoons, eyes all fixed on me, glowing. I enjoyed soup and bread at St Martin’s Table. I snow shoed to the video store. I worked at a bookstore owned by Meredith Birney Baxter’s brother. I studied genetics and heard Beethoven’s 7th symphony live. I was a student in a lab studying malignant hyperthermia. I fell in love with organic chemistry.

Minnesota is not for the faint of heart. Though my father once received a heart transplant there, so..

what I’m trying to say is it does not surprise me to see the people there, not all of them but many of them, rise up together as a community to help their neighbors. Which, along with welcoming the stranger and loving your enemies is an actual thing that Jesus said was super important.

As for Opus 10, no 1 and my little brother Monk witnessing it, I rather enjoyed this piece and am glad to have explored it. Monk full on snored during the slow movement. I think he might need a CPAP machine, though in his case I suppose it would be a CPUP. And though Monk slept through most of the sonata he surely noticed at least subconsciously, the brief moments resembling the fifth symphony, another gem in c minor. Beethoven is a doggone genius!

I will keep on with the Beethoven Dog Project. It is this small grounding bit of joy and a challenge on many levels. What’s the point? The grounding allows me to keep perspective in this time of uncertainty. It reminds me that although some people have chosen to revel in the suffering of others, that most people like a good tune and a community of friends. The challenge keeps me learning. Can I play one phrase in the sonata in a way that cracks open a bit of the mystery? Can I find a deeper relationship with music? Can I slowly drive my husband and dog insane with nonstop Beethoven, piano lid up?

If Opus10, no 1 has me at a work meeting naked, God only knows what the Hammerklavier will bring. Hopefully something “nice”…

https://youtu.be/h8vZMXKXv7s?feature=shared