Thanks for the support

When I was little and would see Oscar winners work themselves into a babbling mess frantically trying to thank everybody they could before being dragged away from the microphone, I thought it was all a boring political formality and wished we could just move along to the next prize. But now that I am developing my own long list of people to thank, I understand.

Originally, I didn't want to be a burden to anybody else, but I've been forced to admit that Israel is just not something any one person can do on their own – not if you're going do it right. Fortunately, people seem to enjoy being able to help. They seem inspired to see something exciting taking form and want to share in the excitement by contributing to the effort.

I have thus abandoned the notion that asking for help is a burden to others (they are free to say no if they like anyway), and I am coming up with productive ways to tap in to my support network. Today I had a huge, three-hour rehearsal for the Beethoven Serenade, which is one of the pieces programmed for the semi-finals. I have been practicing it for months by myself, but it's a trio for harp, flute, and viola, and I had reached the limits of my imagination for how to prepare this piece without actually trying it out with the other instruments. So I tracked down an excellent flutist and violist, and essentially hired them to rehearse with me! It was a thoroughly productive and exhausting rehearsal. I learned so much, and they were able to give me good advice about how to work within the chamber group and how to play in a convincing beethovinian style. The violist was especially entertaining about acting out metaphors he would come up with to describe how he envisioned the character of the piece. (They are hard to keep up with, though, because the harp is at such a technical disadvantage. It's always discouraging when they come in having only had their parts for a week, and even though I've been practicing meticulously for months I'm panting to keep up!) I've done the same thing with the other chamber-music pieces on the program; I snagged myself a brilliant pianist – Damien Luce – and have had several rehearsals with him, also receiving good bits of advice.

Any chance to give practice performances is also a big help, since – by definition – that's also something I can't do on my own. I am thankful to my parents for hosting a really great practice performance for me while I was home this summer. We rented the neighborhood club house, and my parents did so much work organizing, setting up the place, coordinating invitations, baking deserts! Today, my wonderful friend Claude at the Camac harp store scheduled another practice performance for me (Monday, September 21^st at 3 pm, if anyone is interested!). And I am especially grateful for Helga Storck, my surrogate harp teacher from Germany, whom I went to study with for a ten-day masterclass last month at the Moulin d'Andé – a countryside retreat an hour-and-a-half by train down the Seine. Not only did she create performance opportunities for me while I was there, but she has been very morally supportive with the encouragement she has offered and all forms of advice extending well beyond music and into other concerns such as what kind of harp to play, the ordering of my pieces, and even on to life lessons and general pieces of wisdom.

I am thankful to my teacher, Isabelle, for the entire last three years of my musical development and for suggesting that I do this competition in the first place. I would not be here now if it weren't for her. Inconveniently for me, she is such a wonderful harpist that I have to share her with the rest of the world, and she's traveling between so many different countries right now that I've lost track of what they all are. She'll only be in Paris for a brief window of time before I go to Israel.

This is all leading up to say that the one I am depending on by far the most, way past the point of mere “being thankful to” and on to something more like “being bound eternally to,” is my dear Marta – my other American harpist in Paris, duo partner in crime. She is the one who was there at the kitchen table with me in January deciding once and for all whether to do this crazy competition or not. In the end, I said, “If I do it, you're coming with me, right?” And she responded yes without missing a beat. That was that. We both have our tickets to Tel Aviv, and she'll be there as my second pair of eyes and ears. (She is especially excited about the part where she gets to iron my dresses and fuss over jewelry; which I hate doing by myself.) Part of this effort is for her, because Israel was always her dream, but she gave it up in favor of marrying her wonderful husband, teaching thousands of students, and living a nice, sane life. I get to be the insane one, at least for the next two months. She came and sat by my for my Beethoven rehearsal, following the score and helping keep us together, and she's even been cooking meals for me to have in tupperwares in the fridge! That is friendship if you ever saw it.

When people help out along the way to a big goal like this, they share a part in the excitement. They are investing in you, implicitly saying that they are putting their faith in your ability to take the help and encouragement they give you, achieve something even greater than you would have on your own, and produce something that they can be proud of. In fact, the burden isn't on them but on me; this is probably the real underlying reason why I was hesitant to ask for help. Whatever slacking off I do is no longer exclusively my own business, because for each person that has supported me along the way I carry an added piece of responsibility to them. It commits me and focuses me, and in the end it does give me strength that I never would have been able to muster on my own.