It’s been eventful!

For some reason, my springs tend to get packed with excitements.

In 2017, I successfully defended my dissertation at the end of March, and started all the paper work necessary for graduation while recording my latest album, “100 Years: Early Beethoven and Late Brahms,” with clarinetist, Maiko Sasaki. While I kept my teaching and performances up in Houston, I also flew up to the West Coast to look for a new residence, etc.

In 2018, in April alone, I flew to San Francisco, New York, Houston, San Diego for performances, teaching and a recording, and in the few days I was here, I recorded some radio shows, rehearsed with a composer for a world premiere, and gigged playing for final performance exams for students.

And this spring has been eventful again! The last week of March had some big events. On the 24th, I presented my lecture concert “Melody as a Universal Language” at Mark Taper Auditorium in Los Angeles Central Public Library as a part of “LA Made” series. It was a well-attended, well-received events with so many wonderful feedback. Very memorable.

A few days later, I performed at the Museum of Tolerance as a part of presentation on Kotsuji Setsuzo, a Hebrew scholar who helped thousands of Jewish refugees in Japan during World War II. It was a sold-out event.

And then, a few days after that I was in Japan. For the first time in thirty years since I moved to the States, I was there for its cherry blossoms season. The beauty of the flowers were magnified by just how much the Japanese people loved the flowers. They were everywhere, planted as a part of city planning it seemed; at schools, river banks, parks, roadsides…many dishes served somehow incorporated the flower petals, the leaves, the fragrance, or the image of the flowers.

I did enjoy the flowers, but always in between places, on the go. I was conducting my workshops in Shiga-prefecture, and Tokyo to four different groups of people during my nine-day stay there. (I will write another blog entry about those in a few days.) In between, I had rehearsals with violinist, Mihoko Hazama, with whom I played a recital at the Furusato Niiza-Hall in Saitama prefecture.

Mz. Hazama is unassuming and diligent. She came to rehearse with me a number of times, to go over the tempo, to exchange adjectives to talk over our interpretations and phrasings. However, on the day of the performance, in a dress she had tailor-made for this special occasion, she became taller, and her expression became radiant. And with the confidence I had not seen in our rehearsals, she played the Franck Sonata with such expansive feelings and tones, that it overwhelmed me with feelings. It was a remarkable performance.

I met Mihoko 25 years ago at a summer music festival. I was still in high school. It was a festival, attended mostly by undergraduates. Mihoko had been an established professional, teaching and performing after attaining her Master’s degree. She came, as a single mom, with her nine-year-old dauther, to improve herself. Now, I can appreciate her commitment and devotion to her art as a musician. Back then, I had no idea what it meant, when she chose me, a high schooler, to collaborate with her on Ravel’s masterpiece, Tzigone. And 25 years later, she asked me to play with her again, this time on her last recital that she has been playing annually for thirty years. I felt honored to join her on the stage, and cherished each moment of our the Franck Sonata, Kreisler pieces, etc. together.

A few days after my return from Japan, I hit the road again, this time to San Diego.

This was my second year joining the San Diego Flute Guild’s Spring Festival. It is an amazing community of flutists from the greater San Diego area from age 10 to professionals. The two main events are the Winners’ Concerts from its “Young Artist Competition” open to all flutists from all over the States, and a recital by the guest artist. I was to play for the Final’s round for the Young Artist Competition, the winners’ recital with the top prize winners from the competition, and the recital with the guest artist, this year the world renowned Leone Buyse. She has been a professor at Rice University, my alma mater, after retiring from the Boston Symphony.

She is one of the musicians I like to call “musical angels,” along with the late Claude Frank, a legendary pianist whom I was lucky to have as a mentor at various festivals. She is gracious and graceful, and her love of music radiates from her. I aspire to be like her. She is loving and lovely. Everyone becomes kinder around Leone. And her benevolent strength reflects on her music. Her strong, and supple sense of rhythm gives musicians around her confidence: not the kind that overwhelms you, but the kind that puts you at ease, bringing out your best work. Maybe that’s what charisma is.

Writing all of these things out, I now realize how lucky I am to be surrounded by female role models around me, all teaching me their ways of being, inspiring me.