Thoughts on Mrs Carey's Concert

On Monday evening I sat down to watch Mrs Carey's Concert, the documentary by Bob Connolly and Sophie Raymond. It followed the "trials and tribulations' of Mrs Carey - music teacher at a Sydney girls' school - over two years as she prepared her school's musicians for a concert at the Opera House. Yes, that's right - the Opera House. It was at this point that I began having difficulty engaging with the documentary. I think it was supposed to be a doco about the transformative power of music and the importance of music education programs in schools. That's fine. I'm a huge supporter of both those things. However, the documentary I found myself watching was a story of elitist, privileged and somewhat spoiled schoolgirls a la J'aime King who had no idea of their fortunate position in life. Sure, the music was very beautiful and the technical proficiency and musical ability of the students was impressive. Why wouldn't it be? They had access to wonderful teaching and facilities and didn't question that. The quality of the string instruments they were playing jumped off the screen - no factory made cheapies here. The teaching staff were clearly talented but I almost laughed out loud when they talked about how some of their students go through a bit of a "feral" stage. I don't think they would survive if they actually met a feral adolescent in real life. The sulky teenager we followed who, for some reason, wasn't that impressed that she was being forced to sing a chorus from Aida, was eventually hammered into submission by the night of the big concert at the Opera House. I'm sure she'll hate classical music for the rest of her life. Teaching fail. Where this documentary really fell down for me was that it was lacking in any emotion. I couldn't engage with the protagonists. This meant that while I was full of admiration for the music they were making it didn't move me. It didn't speak to me on the affective plane that music needs to. I've been thinking about it a lot during the week and comparing it to me experience of watching the series featuring British choral conductor, Gareth Malone. During nearly every episode of his work building a choir in Unsung Town which screen recently on ABC2 I was moved to tears when I could see how much difference was made by introducing music and singing into the lives of people who not had the opportunity to engage with it before. If you've ever tried to start a music program in a school from scratch you'll know how difficult it is to build a culture of understanding of music's power into a new environment. Some years ago I got a job a private school where there was no string program at all. It took three years to even have a group in the primary school that could play simple, simple songs mainly in tune. This is the challenge music teachers all over the country face every day as they scramble to be given rehearsal time for choir or orchestra. If they are lucky enough to have the support of the school's administration that makes life easier. If not, then they battle. The give concerts in big classrooms, community centres, school halls, at fetes and other such events. They do not go to the Sydney Opera House as a matter of course. I would like to see a documentary that follows the music teacher doing the country circuit of tiny schools, or perhaps the music teachers who have to fight with the sports departments for funding and precious time. I didn't dislike Mrs Carey's Concert. It was very impressive. I just didn't like it that much.

A large piece of toenail

Yesterday afternoon I made my 15 minute journey to Innes Park as usual to do an afternoon of piano teaching. The five sisters and their good friend were all delightful as always. This week I was treated to the sight of a broken toenail...and then as a follow up...I got to see the large piece of toenail that had broken off. It seems my youngest student had been saving it just for me. While I am nowhere near as brilliant at capturing dialogue as Catriona at Circulating Library the conversation went something like this: Me: Right, let's start with this one today (points to music book) Youngest Student: I broke my toenail. Me: Really, that's no good. Okay, from here, what's the first note? Youngest Student: Would you like to see? Me: Not really. (youngest student immediately starts ripping off her shoes and socks) Youngest Student: See, it's all red. Me: (suitably impressed) Hmmm...yes that looks sore. I think you will live though. Youngest Student: Would you like to see the toenail? Me: Not really (youngest student races to her bedroom to find the piece of toenail and returns with it in the palm of her hand. For the record it was really quite large) Me: Wow, that is big.....No, you can hold it. Youngest Student: Ok (places toenail in her discarded shoes and sits back at the piano ready to play) Lesson continues as if nothing had happened. Then after all the lessons I was treated to dinner...yummy homebread and homemade sausages followed by a caramel drumstick. What more could I ask for on a Thursday afternoon?

Fighting fish and fern

My parents and my sister have left town for a week for a little holiday. Before they left they gave me the contents of their fridge (lamingtons,shallots, a leek, pumpkin, tomatoes, capscium, spinach, a single potato, cherry tomatoes, avocado) as well as my sister's fighting fish and my mother's maidenhair fern to look after. The food will be turned into tonight's dinner. The fighting fish, whose name is Jack (after Captain Jack Sparrow) and the fern have been placed in the bathroom. It is my duty to keep the bathroom door shut all week to prevent the cat from discovering their existence. The bathroom is the safest place but should worst come to worst I will be making trips to both the nursery and the pet shop before the week is over.

Guinea pig and frog

One might imagine that an afternoon of piano teaching would be about teaching the piano. One would be mistaken. It's that of course but lots lots more. For instance, take today. It was the usual Wednesday afternoon line up. We began with a brother and sister team who have their lessons one after the other in between their good mother ferrying them to and from gymnastics. Here I was treated to tales of a recent trip to the snow and (perhaps the highlight of my week) a delightful 8 year old boy demonstrating how he could make two sounds at once. First was a rendition of a guinea pig and a frog. Then, for his second act he performed guinea pig plus cicada. It was tremendously impressive. Following this I heard a long and involved story about another 8 year old's taekwondo lesson yesterday afternoon, including a run down of all the different belt colours. Next was a talented 16 year old who came bearing three gigantic home grown lettuces and about half a kilo of cherry tomatoes. The evening is rounded off with my two adult students. The first one, a pharmacist, shared some stories of life in the pharmacy as well as a rendition of a Richard Marx song from the 80s which brought back memories of school socials. Lastly, the mother of a four year old, and 18 mth old twins informed of the politics of dancing lessons for kids in town, as well as the ins and outs of childcare. I am considerably more informed about all sorts of things than I was at 3:30 today.

buying shoes on the internet

The last few weeks have been busy busy busy and the next few will be as well. Fear not dear Spiralling Shape readers, this has not prevented me from buying shoes on the internet. Oh yes. You heard me correctly. I did it once and I may well do it again. Living in a shoe-buying backwater here in regional Queensland means that I have a choice of cheap-ass tizzy shoes which I will not wear for love or money OR...well...nothing. So I resorted to the wonders of the world wide web and clutching my credit card took a leap of faith into the scene of shoes from overseas. The good news is they took only a couple of weeks to arrive from Israel, they fit and best of all....(wait for it)....they are green. What more could a girl ask for?

Still in my pyjamas at 9:15am

Once again I have been neglecting my blog rather shamefully. This does not mean I have not been blogging though. As part of my library studies this term I am maintaining a blog for activities and reflection on a weekly basis. I stole the title from Doctor Who - Silence in the Library. I am enjoying playing with the various web technologies we are being introduced to. As most of you who read this blog are well aware, I am not the most technological person in the world, so it is nice to feel like I am gaining some command over something. This week we are using flickr. I haven't used flickr for photo sharing before, preferring instead either to post selected photos here, or bombard fb friends with them. Given that I am pretty much done with facebook in any meaningful way, I am enjoying using flickr and I think I will continue to do so.
So apart from work being slightly madder and crazier than Term 1 I am doing lots of piano teaching and accompanying at the moment. And I am trying (and succeeding) to be vigilant about my work from home/line in the sand days for research. Today is one of them which is why I am still in my pyjamas at 9:15.

Easter in August

They have Christmas in July so why not Easter in August? At least that's what my mother decided when she found the Easter present she had bought me earlier in the year while she was cleaning out her patchwork material. So as I was leaving their house last night after some yummy dinner we wished each other Happy Easter and I took up a little bunny rabbit made of floral material. It was the culmination of evening of interesting conversation. The other highlight was perhaps my mother telling me that my father had saved some pictures on to a BSB stick to take to his family reunion next weekend. Needless to say my sister and I made fun of her for quite a while.

free shirt and cap

I am up bright and early for a Sunday morning. This is because some weeks ago I blithely agreed to "man" a stand at our campus Open Day. That day is today. As you might imagine now the day has arrived I am less enthused. So now I have to shower and dress in my free university logo polo shirt and black pants (denim not allowed according to the "briefing" from marketing) and go to uni for the day. Did I also mention I get a free university logo cap? No? Well, who wouldn't want to go to work on a Sunday for a free cap? I shall be giving it to my father at the end of the day. Lucky him.

holidays: I'm doing them wrong

So this week I have officially been on holidays. All that really means is that I didn't go into work (except for Tuesday and Thursday for an hour each time). Unofficially, I have been answering work emails, putting out little work fires, responding to questions from students, looking at drafts of their first assessments, taking care of a PhD student's confirmation document, finishing a rewrite of a paper and doing my library study. The only fun part was the study. I also cleaned out my wardrobe, taught the piano Wednesday and Thursday afternoons, accompanied Tuesday afternoon and went to choir on Monday. The most holiday-like I got was beginning a 30 Rock marathon starting from Season One. I have managed to laugh out loud a couple of times. That's got to be good for me right?
Back to work (officially) on Monday.

View from my freshly dusted desk

This morning I tidied and dusted my desk. Here's what I can see while I sit at it. I dream of a spacious work area at home. I would love a separate office where I can spread out, have lots of filing cabinets, shelves with everything organised and in the one place. I long for enough power points and usb ports and good lighting. Instead, because I have chosen to turn one of my bedrooms into a piano teaching room I have a weird assortment of desk-type furniture which is constantly piled with a mixture of junk mail, work stuff, library study stuff and research stuff. There is an unpleasant spaghetti mess of cords and powerboards hidden between the two drawer filing cabinet and the little desk. I choose to ignore that for there's no keeping it tidy. My workspace consists of the aforementioned filing cabinet which is chock a block with cords, warranties for electrical equipment, adaptors, chargers, sticky tape, ribbon and wrapping paper and other sundries. On top of the filing cabinet is a printer which I bought in May and am yet to hook up to my computer (so I probably didn't need it after all). The filing cabinet is also home to my lamp, my external hard drive and my modem. On the desk proper is my laptop, more chargers that use the computer, a corkboard , two containers for pens and bits and pieces and usually whatever I am working on at any particular time. Next to the desk is an antique traymobile. It should be used for dainty afternoon teas, piled high with cakes and fine china. Unfortunately, its wheels are dodgy so any attempts to move it anywhere result in the need for a pitstop to reattach the wheels. I love it though and it functions well as storage for overflow of books and CDs on the bottom shelf, while the top shelf is used as an extension of desk space. It belonged to my great grandmother's cousin. I'm sure she never pictured it housing some intrays from Officeworks but there you go.


I have quite the supply of citrus fruit at the moment.


My intrays....


My VIP Leonard Cohen pass. I was not a VIP but I knew someone who was. Looks impressive though doesn't it?


My china cabinet complete with Royal Doulton tea and coffee sets, small collection of miniature genie lamps and brass tea pot and sugar pot.


Container of pens and other junk.


Pencil case, diary, current paper draft....



USB..yes I know it's only 1GB but it was free at a workshop I went to a few years ago and still going strong.