Robin Spielberg's Blog, page 2

Musician Life: Plate Spinning 101

Sometimes it feels like everything I am doing is a distraction from something else, but perhaps that is because I am plate spinner.

Just this afternoon, I went outside to take the trash out, and noticed a few weeds in the garden bed. Before I knew it, I was donning my gardening gloves and pecking at those weeds until[image error] they were gone, gone, gone. But then I noticed some more in another bed, so I pulled those. Next thing I knew, hours had passed and it was getting dark. Time to come in and finish doing what I was doing before I took out the trash—writing a concert press release. Just as I was finishing it, a tune I hadn’t heard before caught my attention. It was playing on Spotify in the background. Pretty. In D-flat. That reminded me…I was working on a piece in D-flat just a few days ago. After I finished the press release, I went upstairs, to the piano, where I reminisced about my music doodlings in Db. I actually started to get somewhere with the piece when I realized needed to get dinner started. I prepared dinner, and while the oven heated to 350 I returned to the piano for another twenty minutes. I  worked out a few solid tricky measures. My husband then reminded me we hadn’t yet booked flights for the next music conference, so I put the chicken into the oven before heading back downstairs to my computer. Lance the cat jumped up on the desk and demanded his “lovies.” I pet the cat for a few minutes and then booked flights with the cat spread across my desk. During dinner my husband and I discussed a music marketing idea and then brainstormed about next summer’s vacation plans. With the news on the background, I answered emails from fans, paid a few bills, and prepared mock set lists for this coming season’s holiday programs.

For musicians, the line between “work” and “life” can be very thin. Sometimes I feel it is hard to tell if I am “working”or not. Music is on my mind while doing the laundry, gardening, driving to a doctor’s appointment, cooking a meal. Back and forth I go between life and work—so much and so often, I can’t tell which world I am in. I am in both most of the time I guess. One thing is interrupted for another, but each interruption “informs” the next task, and somehow, it all gets done. “Spinning plates” I call it, although most references on the internet have negative connotations for the term because it refers to juggling many things at once. I am a plate spinner and proud of it and impressed by good jugglers!  Are you a “plate spinner” too? Tell me about it: robin@robinspielberg.com

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Changing Your Mind

[image error] Our 13 year old cat Tilly is an “indoor cat,” but occasionally enjoys a little saunter in the garden outside my office. In her own cat-like way, Tilly asked to go out. I opened the door and she stepped out into the world.Then she changed her mind.

I understand how Tilly felt.

I lived in Manhattan for nine years and sometimes fantasize about moving back. The restaurants, the theater, the music, the energy, the shopping, my NYU friends, the excitement…why did I ever leave?

I suppose I could write pages about why I was in love with Manhattan, but the main point here is that somewhere along the way, I changed my mind. And when I did, I just turned myself around and walked back in the opposite direction.

Not all decisions have to be forever. Need to turn yourself around? Go ahead. Tilly the cat says it’s ok.

The post Changing Your Mind appeared first on Robin Spielberg ~ Piano Music Store.

Musician Life: Plate Spinning 101

Sometimes it feels like everything I am doing is a distraction from something else, but perhaps that is because I am plate spinner.

Just this afternoon, I went outside to take the trash out, and noticed a few weeds in the garden bed. Before I knew it, I was donning my gardening gloves and pecking at those weeds until they were gone, gone, gone. But then I noticed some more in another bed, so I pulled those. Next thing I knew, hours had passed and it was getting dark. Time to come in and finish doing what I was doing before I took out the trash–a concert press release. Just as I was finishing it, a tune I hadn’t heard before caught my attention. It was playing on Spotify in the background. Pretty. In D-flat. That reminded me…I was working on a piece in D-flat just a few days ago. After I finished the press release, I went upstairs, to the piano, where I reminisced about my music doodlings in Db. I actually started to get somewhere with the piece when I realized needed to get dinner started. I prepared dinner, and while the oven heated to 350 I returned to the piano for another twenty minutes. I  worked out a few solid tricky measures. My husband then reminded me we hadn’t yet booked flights for the next music conference, so I put the chicken into the oven before heading back downstairs to my computer. Lance the cat jumped up on the desk and demanded his “lovies.” I pet the cat for a few minutes and then booked flights with the cat spread across my desk. During dinner my husband and I discussed a music marketing idea and then brainstormed about next summer’s vacation plans. With the news on the background, I answered emails from fans, paid a few bills, and prepared mock set lists for this coming season’s holiday programs.

For musicians, the line between “work” and “life” can be very thin. Sometimes I feel it is hard to tell if I am “working”or not. Music is on my mind while doing the laundry, gardening, driving to a doctor’s appointment, cooking a meal. Back and forth I go between life and work—so much and so often, I can’t tell which world I am in. I am in both most of the time I guess. One thing is interrupted for another, but each interruption “informs” the next task, and somehow, it all gets done. “Spinning plates” I call it, although most references on the internet have negative connotations for the term that refers to juggling many things at once. I am a plate spinner and proud of it!  Are you a “plate spinner” too? Tell me about it: robin@robinspielberg.com

Your Parents Were Wrong: Money Does Grow On Trees…

At least on this one.

Inspired by a post I saw on Pinterest, I decided to do something with all my loose change from foreign countries. Now my foreign coins are out of my bottom drawer and on display as a reminder of my travels.

You will need:

-canvas from a craft store (I chose 11 x 14), foreign coins, string for the “tree,” glue, gold or copper paint, paint sponge and a few brushes. I also used an old jewelry chain. 

First, I painted the canvas and let it dry. Then I added the string for the trunk–globbing on the glue helped create texture that I then painted over with more gold paint. Last, I added coins.

Thinking Small

[image error]I was lucky enough to receive an invitation to return to the beautiful Mohonk Mountain House (pictured here) to perform a concert. Located upstate New York, this beautiful inn is surrounded by acres and acres of preservation land. There are gorgeous gardens to walk through, a maze to get lost in (or find yourself in), hikes to take, boats to row, rocks to climb, bike paths to ride on, golf balls to be hit, a picnic lodge, spa, and my favorite: porches where you can sit and read or just watch the sunset. Having only one full day there this year, we decided to do as much as possible. I always enjoy a hike to “Skytop” which ends with an amazing view. This year we approached it on a foggy morning and enjoyed a different kind of scenery.[image error]

After being at this beautiful place over a dozen times, I surprised myself by trying something completely new to me, “rock scrambling.” Meghan, who works in our Kosson Talent agency office (kossontalent.com), told me her former college roommate happened to work at Mohonk and led “rock scramble” adventures. I thought I’d give it a try since I wanted to meet Meghan’s friend. We met Alex with a group of about 10 other adventurers at 10am at the bottom of the staircase. We were given a brief orientation and then tightened our hiking boot laces and were off. Had I seen photographs ahead of time of what we were about to climb, I never would have signed up. Alex showed us a vertical wall of rocks that we would climb to achieve great views of the valley below. When I hesitated, she looked at me and said “think small.”

My whole life I have been training myself to THINK BIG. To follow my dreams. To not limit myself, to grow, stretch and do beyond what I thought I could do. And yet, in this situation, looking at the big picture was just intimidating, and well…scary. Alex continued, “Look at your next step. Think of where your hand will go. Where your foot will go. If you make one small move at a time, you will be ok.” She was right. I figured out where to place my shoulder, when I needed to scoot over a rock on my butt, when I needed to stretch out my arm to grab a ridge, and bring my foot to the next good foot hold. Before I knew it, I was on TOP of the mountain and could see turkey vultures circling at eye level over the valley below us. When I looked down, I couldn’t believe I had climbed over all those rocks. I had done the “rock scramble,” and I could never had done it by “thinking big.” I had to THINK SMALL.

[image error]So it is with touring. Looking at my schedule people often ask me how I can do it all. Well I can’t do it all at once…but I can go to one place at a time. Instead of thinking about the entire concert program, I just need to play one composition at a time…one measure at a time. So next time you are feeling overwhelmed, try thinking “small.” You’ll be on top in no time.

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What If No One Shows Up? (asking for a friend)

I saw a post by a friend of mine tonight on social media. She is a writer and had a book signing event/Q&A scheduled at a local library. Apparently no one showed up. So she went home after 20 minutes of waiting. This led to a whole series of questions in her mind I am sure–about her talents, her worthiness, her success. I posted my own words of encouragement on her blog.

And then I remembered the time this happened to me. It was long ago and far away, but I’ll never forget the one time I had a concert planned with my trio back in the 1990’s. We had been on the road for some time and stopped in Arizona for a show. And no one showed up. Well, actually it was worse than that. ONE person showed up.

We had promoted the show (or so we thought). We had rented the hall. We had hired the lighting/sound techs. On the day of the show, we loaded in. We rehearsed. Earlier that morning, I made a little side trip to visit my old friend Barbara who had recently moved to the southwest from NJ. We used to be neighbors. A former soap opera actress, she was now a real estate agent. We had a lovely time catching up. I was so proud of her for reinventing herself and told her so. She said she was so impressed with what I had accomplished and took great pleasure in following my career via my web site and was thrilled I was making a living as a national touring musician. I left to get ready for the show. She said, “see you there,” and that she did.

And she was the only one who did.

We were in our dressing rooms when the stage manager knocked on our door. It was fifteen minutes to places and there was no audience yet. How many people did we expect? I went to the box office and asked the staffer there how many tickets had been sold and she said none. I kind of wish someone had snapped my photo in that moment, because I bet the look on my face was priceless. 

Now what?

For some reason I still can’t explain (nervousness/exhaustion/disbelief/irony?), I began to laugh as I broke the news to my fellow musicians.Then we all started to laugh–the cellist, the guitarist, me…we had worked so hard and had been so demanding and exacting of one another when it came to our music. We had been so SERIOUS about the content of the show, but apparently we did a terrible job promoting it. And here we were, all dressed up, ready to do a show and there was no audience. It was funny. We laughed until we cried. It was all just so….so….ridiculous.

We decided in that moment to play anyway. We were in a lovely hall. We had great lighting, a good sound system, and we had paid for the space. We might as well play. And then the door to the theater opened and in walked Barbara. Seeing the three of us alone on the stage she shouted across the theater, “Robin! What’s going on? Where is everyone? Did you mix up the date?”

Suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore. I had just told Barbara that afternoon about my successful “career,” and here I was in the most embarrassing of situations. “No, Barb. We didn’t mix up the night. This is just what we call a secret concert. No one knows about it. No one but you.” 

Without another word, we began to play. Barbara looked around uneasily as we began to play,  and chose a seat. And she stayed. We played. We played a beautiful concert. Barbara gave us a standing ovation at the end. I think she even bought a CD or two. And if she was embarrassed for us, she never showed it. She thanked us for a lovely evening and off she went.

So what did all of this mean? Was I a failure? Did I suck? Was I  unworthy? Nope. None of those things.  In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t mean a darn thing. It was one show out of hundreds that I have played over the last 25 years or so. Like all shows, I played to the best of my ability, and if I say so myself, we all did a rather fine job. It was the best concert no one heard.

To answer my friend’s question, the answer is YES. If you play a show and no one shows up (or if one person shows up)….it is still a show. How do I know this? Well, because I was there. 

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Quietly, Quietly…

On Friday, my 18th recording quietly launched into the world. And that was kind of perfect, because the recording itself is quiet, subtle, and filled with nuance. A few months ago, I dared to allow the recording engineer to hit the record button while I dreamed up piano improvisations with the intention of quieting my own worries, and those of anyone else who might later listen to my musings. My daughter had just left for college, there was a loved one in the hospital, and there was disturbing news on every page of the newspaper. I hadn’t been sleeping. I could use some rest, some quiet, I thought. And I bet others are craving that too. I had already heard from listeners that my music had helped smooth the rough edges in their lives…dare I go a step further and attempt to solve some insomnia with music?

I suppose this is the prescription many were waiting for, as the album quickly sold out on Amazon (they are restocking) and my web site saw a flurry of orders come through for the recording and optional accompany dream journal. It would indeed be ironic if my best seller turns out to be a recording I dreamed up in a day, and my best selling book was primarily blank, but it wouldn’t surprise me.

The CD is streaming everywhere now (Spotify), Pandora.com etc. and available for download on iTunes and Amazon. Physical copies are here on my site and on Amazon. Nighty, night. xo Robin

Changing Your Mind

Our 13 year old cat Tilly is an “indoor cat,” but occasionally enjoys a little saunter in the garden outside my office. In her own cat-like way, Tilly asked to go out. I opened the door and she stepped out into the world.Then she changed her mind.

I understand how Tilly felt.

I lived in Manhattan for nine years and sometimes fantasize about moving back. The restaurants, the theater, the music, the energy, the shopping, my NYU friends, the excitement…why did I ever leave? 

I suppose I could write pages about why I was in love with Manhattan, but the main point here is that somewhere along the way, I changed my mind. And when I did, I just turned myself around and walked back in the opposite direction. 

Not all decisions have to be forever. Need to turn yourself around? Go ahead. Tilly the cat says it’s ok. 

 

 

 

In the Weeds

“In the weeds” was cocktail waitress speak for pre-Broadway hour. Back in the 1980’s, my shift began at 4pm with the lighting and distribution of candles on small round glass tables in the Broadway Lounge of the Marriott. The lounge sported a view of Times Square and it was moving. Literally. The room moved. It was one of those 360 rooms that slowly, ever so slowly rotated so that each customer sitting at a table in its perimeter would, at some point, get a view of the bright lights and magic happening eight stories below. By 6pm, the room would begin to buzz. It was busy. Loud. Hoppin. A couple who was on my right side at two o’clock might be at three o’clock by the time the drinks were ready at the bar for pick up. Did I mention the customers were moving? You had to stay on your toes. If you were having an off day, and couldn’t stay on your toes, you’d be in the weeds. And that was not a good thing. There would be unhappy people without their pina coladas, customers demanding their checks, and tourists with expensive Broadway show tickets worried they’d be late for curtain. All at once. The trick was to ask another waitress who wasn’t as busy for help, before you were in the weeds. Before the crisis hit. You’d have to split your tip of course and give up a few tables, but you’d also get to keep your stress at a reasonable level…and your job.

I’m glad my waitressing days are over, but at times I still find myself in the weeds. I have to remind myself that it is okay to ask for help, delegate work, and say no to new projects to keep myself healthy mentally, emotionally and spiritually. This week I felt the overload coming, so I made a pre-emptive strike. I hired someone to do some sheet music proofing for me (something I normally do myself). Instead of buying, lifting and spreading sixty 40 lb bags of mulch this past Spring, I had a local gardener who was looking for work do it. (My garden is happier and I have more time to do the garden tasks I love.) When I was overwhelmed with an upcoming photo shoot, I hired a professional stylist to get my hair and make-up just right instead of doing it myself. When I found myself frustrated with the amount of time it was taking to re-design some marketing materials, I called a freelancer and handed the project over. Yes, often delegating costs money, but this buys me more time at the piano, with family, an hour or so each day to exercise, which are priorities.

And for those of you who thought this post was going to help you with those weeds in the garden? Sorry. I can’t really help you there. I just pull them out old-school style, one by one…

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Finals

It’s “Finals Week” at the university. Today wraps my first year as a college professor and I can honestly say I liked the gig. As I write this, my students are taking their final exam in my “International Music Industry” class. We covered trends in the music business around the world: music consumption, censorship, the ins and outs of live touring, technological advancements. How and why do I know this stuff? I guess I have always been fascinated with the business of music. I love it. Teaching this course gave me reasons to research and study up further and create modules that would be relevant, interesting and yes….fun. For the past few months, I found myself constantly clicking on international music business news links that crossed my path on the world wide web. One thing led to another. I clicked on music industry growth charts, articles on the resurgence of vinyl, copyright cases and took notes. I never imagined I would be an instructor at a university, but I find I am well suited for it and at this point in my career it made a lot of sense. I found that I am passionate about teaching and that my students both inspire and motivate me to be my best giving self. This month each student gave a presentation on a foreign country’s music scene. Everyone, and I mean everyone, earned an A on their presentation. There were so good. I was so proud that I talked about them to anyone who would listen. The week following the presentations they took to the stage in front of 1500 audience members to open for Joan Jett in the university’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Show. They were spectacular. Like all endings, this one feels a little sad. Some of the students are graduating. Will I ever see them again? It’s a small world in this business of music; something tells me I will.