Italy 2023, Aosta Valley

I knew we were on a European trip when they served a unique treat on the plane, and spoke the inflight messages in multiple languages. I always love that. We got a very classy black E series Mercedes for the next 3 weeks. It is a bigger car than Chuck usually drives. I hadn't slept much on the plane; Chuck watched several movies and didn't sleep at all, but we jumped into that car as if we were teenagers breaking loose, rather than the 60 plus people we really are.

Our first sites as we drove out of Milan were the foothills of the alps and I was already enamored. We planned to use Aosta as our jet lag stop. I made the mistake of booking a little family run motel on the wrong dates. So, we had to quickly adapt and stayed at the Omama hotel in town instead, which was one of only a few that had an opening for 3 days. Here was also the first car parking trick that carried through the trip. Many of the towns we visited have no car zones (ZTL) and we had to plan where to store/park the car or pay fees to the hotel to have a vehicle on site. Towns also had visitor taxes which are not included in the price of your stay. Many were around 3-4 euros per person per night. A note here about Dollars to Euros. When the dollar and Euro were trading at a 1:1 ratio last December, I went to the bank and got $1,000 transferred into euros. It was then easy to know how much I was paying for everything. While we were there the ratio was more like $1.18 for a Euro. Our credit cards worked and billed us at the current rate. We planned this expense into your trip. Omama was decorated in bright pink and had flamingo theme in our room. They also had a wonderful morning breakfast.

Aosta has the most incredible Roman ruins mingled seamlessly into their town. They speak both Italian and French here, and we were in the hotel with a few tourists but I don't think any of them were Americans. There was a group of Harley Davidson riders from Germany and a few families. We were very tired and it took about 3 days to get our internal clocks reset to the new time zone. It was the perfect place to walk, stretch, and breathe the crisp air. I loved this wood carving of accordian players in the town square.

Italy 2023

I've wanted to see Venice "before it sinks into the sea" since I was in my masters studies in the '80s. The romantic thoughts of the city built on water captivated me. When my friend Kathy returned from Italy in 2016, we met at the gelato shop that was on the 4th floor of the Mall of America. She toyed with her gelato and told me it was really nothing like eating it there, and so I pushed away my cup and vowed to have my next gelato in Italy. A divorce and a pandemic delayed my plans, but I have just returned, and it was everything I hoped for. I'm going to try to keep my exclamation points to a minimum, and share my observations and wonderful adventure here.

Chuck and I started planning this trip last August. In October, my mother was diagnosed with cancer that had already spread to her bones. The many videos, books, and You Tube channels we watched every weekend really helped me take my mind off the situation, as she declined and passed away. Chuck had a few airports that he did not want to travel through, (known for losing luggage) so we found a United flight that went from Minneapolis-Chicago-straight to Milan. We upgraded our seats on the long leg since we're both tall, which really helped on the way over. I highly recommend the full year of planning and choosing sites on your own if you like to have a unique experience. There are lots of tours out there, but Chuck felt comfortable driving a car, and we could then include time in Switzerland and Austria and see more of the alps. He wanted to show me some of the places he used to visit when he lived and skied in Europe. Here is the link to the overview map we used to coordinate our rental rooms and BandB's. https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/viewer?hl=en&ll=45.96356947794066%2C10.51034249999999&z=8&mid=1iNQerg_4znTdhwxVFkDX6iX4PCboHo0 The outgoing flights were on time and so very smooth. We landed in Chicago for a pretty sunset.

Navigating Fear

I decided today not to visit Facebook until after the election. It was, I believe, both a hasty decision, and one that was a long time coming. This morning, seeing the overwhelming voices, opinions, and scathing remarks of friends who believe their side "won" the debate between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, I was so sad. These are my friends. These are the voices of my friends. These tolerant, passionate, artistic, compassionate, hard working, faithful, beautifully original people I hold in such high regard were arguing, hating, spewing vitriolic statements of fact versus lies, why you should vote one way or it will be your fault when this country goes to hell. I'm not innocent. I have posted links too. But I am no longer shocked. And that statement is the saddest of them all.

What I read between the lines of the candidates supporters, and yes, I have more than four represented on my wall, was fear. These fears range from I won't get my share, I will lose what I've worked so hard for, my life will change for the worse, my religion is in danger, my savings will be ravaged, my house and home will not be safe, my neighborhood will not be safe, my life will not be safe. If he/she gets elected. So many troubles that our president is held responsible for. Who wants that poor, despised position anyway? It comes with hope and dreams for an American people that are as different as we are. And yet we're all the same. Isn't it a great and terrible wonder? Bang your gong louder. Struggle to be heard. "I'm afraid," they try not to say in words. This is not my fault. Don't blame me. And here I am, disheartened. Here I sit, wondering when this all went so terribly wrong. It's not new, but it felt like more than enough. I do not want to read what my very own friends are posting. No longer shocked, and no longer listening. How mortifying. This is not me.

I have decided to come back here for awhile. I will post of the piano children and their amazing hope and vitality. I will post of silly and serious things. I will be faithful to the stories I'm told. I will speak for my own self expression, and struggle to be heard. Actually I don't really need to be heard in this way, isn't that a curious thing? I'd much rather write music than words. Perhaps I'll do some more of that as well.

My first student today sat down meekly at the bench and I could tell something was horribly wrong. I looked her in her deeply soulful brown eyes and asked. She said a student from high school had killed themselves yesterday. No one understood why because he was so popular and well liked. There were only 5 people in her English class because the rest were seeing counselors. At band, the teacher told her there would be a gathering tomorrow in the gym. Would she play the Hallelujah she plays sometimes before band? Just her. On the piano. A song she learned by ear this summer. We worked on it in her lesson. It's going to be beautiful. And hard. And sad. And scary. We talked about putting her and the piano in a big bubble so that she could do this performance, and then, when she was ready, to come back out of the mental bubble and be able to grieve with her friends. I told her that my mental bubble makes it sound like I'm under water and that the outside world is far away. I put myself and my piano in there when I have to play emotional events, and it helps me.

My brave brave students face fear every day. They come to their piano lessons every week. Will I have practiced enough, will it be hard, what if it is too hard, I don't understand this theory, I didn't have time to do my homework, what if I don't figure this out? What if I'm no good at this?

There's a bully that rides my bus, I'm having trouble in math, my parents are fighting a lot, I think I'm getting a cold, we were gone a lot this weekend, I'm so tired all the time, my grandma just got cancer, my friend committed suicide. I have no idea what many of them fear, and they don't need to tell me, because we all have the same fear in reality. Big kids and little kids. Old people and young people.

Do I matter? I want to matter. Do you see me?

Yes. Yes you do matter. Yes, I see you. And if you need to hear it from me, I will call you up and tell you so. I'll tell you every day. But I will speak it in a quiet voice, because you'll hear me better that way.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dqt20hTlTO8

Guilty

The first week back to school brought something to my attention. Several of my students came in, sat down, and shamefully suggested that they haven't practiced as much as they should have over the summer. They gave me a sideways, pained glance. This happened enough times Monday and Tuesday, that Wednesday I decided to be proactive. After each returning student got seated at the bench, I stated that although there were some suggestions written for August in their notebooks, that I had no expectations for their lesson today. We were going to start fresh.

I plan to be forgiving again this week, even though there should be a lot of work accomplished and there are big music deadlines ahead. Much of their lives are out of their control. They have been at Grandma's, had company, gone places or been ill. They have had siblings home, parents home, the schedule has been interrupted over and over. Many of my students have been driven places, taken places, and forced to be places that prohibit them from piano. I know this because it's how my life was.

I did not practice over Christmas. I had so many other obligations. I am wildly lesson planning over the weekend, setting my recital details, and doing paperwork. It's just how it is.

A student in high school might have a pop quiz today, but it is a rare day when I've heard that elementary or middle school expect them to hit the ground running. When they come to school, they are hopefully ready for a new year, maybe some new teachers, and new ideas and are refreshed. I want them enthusiastic and anticipating music, learning, and a freshness that coming back to the same room, the same studio and the same teacher might not otherwise afford.

We have a very busy schedule upcoming and they'll be reminded this week. They'll have one piece to play for the recital this weekend, or they won't, and I will try hard to meet them where they are. I'd want the same.

Gentle Reminder-- Influenza

This is the email I sent this afternoon.

Welcome back everyone!
With the CDC reporting Influenza A at epidemic levels, and wanting to protect everyone as we share a piano at the studio, I would ask that you please wait the prescribed 5-7 days before returning to the studio if you have been diagnosed with the flu.
This may include missing the recital that is next Sunday afternoon.
That is OK! We will have several opportunities to share our music between now and May. Please stay well, and I'll see you soon.
Peace,
Chris Wolf

It's a busy month for me!
Jan. 9 - Presiding/presenting at a state level piano teacher meeting
Jan. 10 - I'm judging in Rochester
Jan. 11 - I'm subbing at Gethsemane Lutheran- north Minneapolis
Jan. 11 - Recital at 2:00 p.m. at church across the street
Jan. 19-20 - I take my own kids back to college
Jan. 24 - Festival (some students)
Jan. 31 - I judge at Gustavus, in St. Peter
Jan. 31/Feb. 1 - MMTA Contest, (some students)
Feb. 1 - I judge at Bethel

Sunset on Jan. 1

For New Year's Eve, I watched 6 episodes of the Amazon Prime new show, "Mozart in the Jungle". During one of the episodes, Rodrigo says to a young girl that she has talent and blood for music. Is she prepared to give up everything for music, for a music life, something like that. She was young and was called away before answering. I am resonating with the series so far, the characters are people I know, the situations are pretty real from my memory, and the real world problems they are dealing with are in my head today.

I took a long walk and currently have pop radio on. But I keep pondering the thought that the musician in me answered the maestro's question with "no".

Happy New Year-2015