Because many experiences have come my way and been unheralded blogwise, I'm writing about this one right away, the morning after it occurred.
Too quickly I read this notice in The Oregonian about a performance on a toy piano. Could be something to take our almost-eight year old grandson to hear? He's enjoying piano lessons he takes from the woman next door. You can hear her practicing when she does not have students. Much nicer than living next door to a heavy metal group; could happen in that neighborhood too.
Ordered the tickets. Email confirmation noted the venue, Doug Fir Lounge. Oh. Called and learned you had to be over 21 to attend. Ron and I went instead of Zach and me to listen to Phyllis Chen was here from her home in New York City. We entered a world far outside our experience.
It began with a stamp on our left wrists; they were quite particular about the location. Down stairs, darker and darker. Yes, it felt like rabbit hole entry. Could hardly see at the bottom. Seemed to be a large place with very few chairs. As we moved toward the stage where there was some light, a man, who turned out to be another audience member said, "No seats left. People stand and move toward the stage." Okay.
Half hour early, we saw wood benches attached to half-sawn logs on the walls. Sat down, very hard...did we have it for two hours? Ron went back to the car, returned with cushions we use there. Much better.
Portland performer, Courtney VonDrehle, playing accordion--not his usual instrument, opened. Who would know as he did pieces he and others had written--all engaging, one with a Yiddish title, none sounding like anything we'd ever heard from an accordion (thinking 1950s weddings). Courtney composes for 3 Leg Torso, is a member of another group, the Afro-Hebrew Klezmocracy. We are in Portland.
Phyllis Chen appeared after a bit of waiting as we watched electronics arranged. So limber as she dropped to the floor, crossed her legs, and addressed the toy piano. It turned out, she explained, that John Cage had written several pieces for the toy piano. She played the first one which was light, sounded more melodic than Cage usually does.
"Uncaged Toy Piano" is a competition she began two yeas ago. "I'm like a kid at Christmas when I tear open the submission envelopes!" She played a recent winner by a Japanese composer. It required her to play the white keys with her left hand, the black ones with her right.
Next, the Teapot "Tsunami" by Japanese composer, Georg Hajdu. Chen played a regular piano; she is quite accomplished on the everyday instrument as you can hear on her website. A blue porcelain teapot rested near her and recorded as she played, then played it when she finished. Her hand movements during the playback brought to mind the mysterious operations I associate with the Theremin, an early 20th century electronic wonder.
There was more! Rob Deitz, video artist, joined her on his instrument, an Apple laptop. All electronics were engaged. Chen played the toy piano again. Her ear appeared projected on a sheet behind them. The camera followed the movement of her earring as it found its way into its pierced place. Then an old-fashioned music box fed a paper roll sitting on top of the toy piano--another "instrument." It would have been great to have a program!
Finale: a winner for a raffle by the evening's sponsor, Portland Piano International, whose goal was to host an alternative venue for Chen's music...to reach an audience not usually exposed to classical music and its many variations. A very pleased young man won a slightly larger red toy piano. Who knew there was going to be a raffle?
Many mysteries of the evening, all appreciated by these two old New Yorkers. In truth there were other gray-hairs attending; Ron decided they were all piano teachers. Reading more on her site and blog, I see that Phyllis Chen (signing CD here and in better light for photo) has a work-in-progress, "Down the Rabbit Hole." I'm definitely looking forward to hearing this one.
Mystery Update: Oregonian, local paper, helped me and you out in Saturday's review by James McQuillen, "A toy piano concert that is seriously good." Fills in all the spaces, corrects all my attributions of wrong composer, gives names, "Toy Toccata," and "Exposiciones" to what Chen played. And more detail on "Nothing Is Real," by Alvin Lucier--the amazing teapot exploration. I love reading the Saturday paper...more later.


























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