‘Tis the Season for Tchaikovsky

It’s the beginning of June and soon summer begins. In the northern hemisphere, June is a lovely time to be outside. Tomoko herself enjoys gardening outside. She sees the garden as a metaphor for musicians; both take much work and much patience. “Labor is labor,” says Tomoko.

On her CD album “Touria,” Tomoko performs Tchaikowsky’s “June, the Seasons,” Opus 37b in g minor, composed in 1876. This piece is one of twelve short character pieces, reflecting the spirit of each month in Russia. “The Seasons” was commissioned by the St. Petersburg music magazine Nouvelist editor, the idea being that each monthly issue publish one month’s piece. Tchaikowsky was finishing his first ballet, “Swan Lake,” while her was composing these pieces – mainly to supplement his income. Nevertheless, each piece is a lovely little melodic masterpiece.

“June,” which is in the tradition of the traditional folk song barcarolle genre, has been very popular and arranged for a variety of musical instruments. “June” recall’s Mendelssohn’s Venetian gondola songs, but Tchaikowsky’s develops a more polyphonic theme. Furthermore, “June” has a more melancholy tone that reflects Russian sensibility. The lyrics that accompany “June” were written by poet Aleskey Pleshcheyev:

Let us go to the shore;

there the waves will kiss our feet.

With mysterious sadness

the stars will shine down on us.

Like Marin county where Tomoko resides, which experiences June gloom of foggy mornings that burn off by the afternoon, Tchkowsky’s “June” starts slowly and subdued, then opens up broadly for a moment like clouds parting for the sun, only to go back to its original tone and ending resolution of the day. It is no wonder that Tomoko chose this piece to perform.

Planning for Life

Tomoko remarks, “Many people don’t plan for practice. Since I was 12 years old, I have planned time for practice.” That kind of planning exemplifies Tomoko’s attitude to music and life.

Tomoko advises her students to practice early in the morning. “Wake up at 3:30 am, and practice two hours in the morning. That is the best time.”

 Tomoko would like to have been able to play at that time when she was a teen, but the houses in Japan were too close together so that playing at that time in the morning would have woken her neighbors. Therefore, she had to plan her practice time carefully, taking the street car and bus according to their  early morning schedule so she could arrive at school at 6:30 am. She had the practice room to herself at that time of day; others would arrive at 8:30 am.  Tomoko notes, “The brain is so fresh for school.”

Naturally, she plans for recitals months ahead. For recitals of her students’ performances, that planning starts from the very beginning in choosing pieces for her students to study and showcase.

Tomoko says that planning helped her daughter Beata succeed as an ice dancer. Tomoko would drive Beata to practice very early in the morning. “Beata was like a monk in her practice.” And it took years of planning for Beata to be ready to compete professionally – eventually resulting in an Olympic performance
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Planning permeates Tomoko’s life, even in gardening. She does it practically every day, just as she practices the piano daily; both take much planning, work, and patience. The rewards can be immediate, as when planting or weeding – such as working through a particular section of a composition – and sometimes it takes years to see the results. But planning is necessary in either case; “It brings order to life.”

A full day's work

Referring to Millet’s painting “Man with a Hoe,” Tomoko notes how the worker holds his body. “He is tired after a day of harvesting. He is braced against a stick to hold himself up.” Tomoko knows the feeling of a long day of hard work.

For Tomoko, morning brings light. Early morning is her favorite time of day; Tomoko sometimes wakes as early as 3:30am. “I tell my students that two hours of practice in the morning is the best start.” Tomoko remembers when she was a young girl in Japan, taking a street car and bus to arrive at school by 6:30am so she could practice before classes began for the day. “The brain was so fresh for school.”

These days Tomoko often spends part of her morning in her garden, where she feels close to nature. A garden is also full of potential. Tomoko likes to bring order to her natural surroundings: from a jungle to a lovely garden. In the same way, she brings order to sound as she works the musical “rows.” She sees the garden as a metaphor for musicians; both take much work and much patience. “Labor is labor,” says Tomoko. Both require connections, and both offer ways for self-expression. The rewards can be immediate, as when planting or weeding – such as working through a particular section of a composition – and sometimes it takes years to see the results.

Tomoko concludes, “When I worry, gardening takes care of that stress, like playing music. Both focus the mind, eyes, and hands to forget problems.” And at the  end of the day, Tomoko has worked hard, “and I sleep well, satisfied.”