The Accordion Years

Every summer, from age 10 through age 20, I could count on spending at least three days in a hotel, surrounded by music and musicians. I was one of those musicians, and I was armed with my axe. I was armed with my accordion.

How music became the big extra-curricular activity of my young years is simple yet mysterious. Show me an Asian-American and I’ll show you someone who took piano or violin lessons at some point in their life. The mystery is in how and why it became so important. My parents aren’t musicians. A musical career was never a goal of mine. I had a lot of peers, but none of them took it as seriously as I did.

At age 5, I began taking piano lessons, following in the footsteps of my older siblings. Around the same time, at the recommendation of family friends, my brother started taking accordion lessons. It was weird, interesting, and new. I used to watch him practice and would tag along for his lessons.

My bro. When I started playing, this accordion was handed down to me. It was my first of three accordions and my favorite.

Our entire family would support my brother during his competitions–competitions during which players are grouped by age and/or skill level, take turns playing a solo, and are judged and ranked by a professional musician. There weren’t just solo competitions, either. There were duets. And there were bands. I’m not talking about a rock band. I’m talking about a band of accordions. An accordion orchestra. A musical group made solely of accordion players, directed by a conductor.

I started accordion lessons at age 9. It would be easy to say that I loved playing because I was good at it. Upon further reflection, though, I know there were solid reasons for loving it. It was something I could share with my brother. It may be cheesy, but my brother truly was my hero and role model growing up. I had a wonderful connection with my teacher. She not only taught me how to play the instrument, she gave me great advice on life and love, and was the type of mentor that every young person should have. Playing led to relationships with people and shared experiences. I made connections that I wouldn’t have otherwise made.

I think what I loved most was the instrument itself.  The relationship between the accordionist and the accordion is physical and intimate. Not only did I carry the instrument, it was strapped onto me and was physically close to my body. The accordion breathes; the deeper the breath, the louder the sound. The accordion can whisper. It moves because I move. Transferring emotion to the instrument was easy. There’s something else about the accordion that I think I appreciated on a subconscious level. When an accordion player performs, the instrument is what the audience focuses on. I don’t know about you, but when I watch a piano player or guitar player, I’m looking at the performer, not the instrument. I was a shy girl, and the accordion was easy to hide behind. It did all the talking for me.

Here I am with accordion #2. Age 15.

I immediately began entering music competitions. I won first place at my first contest. In my entire competitive career, third place was my worst placement. It’s not as if I was competing against hundreds of people. There were always more piano or violin players. But that doesn’t mean that accordion competitions weren’t extremely competitive, at least for me. My goal was to always place first, and I usually succeeded.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I was a serious competitor. I couldn’t eat anything until it was over. I couldn’t talk to anyone until it was over. Usually, all the competitors sit in the room and listen to each other play. After a few years, I couldn’t stand to do that, and would sit outside until it was my turn, then leave once I was done. One of my regrets is that I never watched my best competitor play. We competed in two categories at one of the national competitions I went to. He won one of the categories, I won the other. At the awards ceremony, I could tell that we were both disappointed for not taking first in both categories. The other players from his school were surprised he took 2nd in something. The other players in my school were surprised that I took 2nd in something. I really wish I could’ve seen him play. I never saw him again.

Two local organizations and three national organizations held competitions annually. I loved competing and would participate whenever I could. I had duet partners and I played in bands. I cheered on my friends who were also competing. It was a big deal to me. I was Illinois State Champion. Competing took me to Toronto. Minneapolis. Houston. Grand Rapids. Oconomowoc. Branson. Kansas City. Philadelphia. DC. New Orleans. I’ve played on the streets of Galveston, at the Liberty Bell, at the Daley Center, on the steps of the Capitol, in Jackson Square. My brother even toured the Philippines with a group of accordionists. I have trophies that I have no idea what to do with, including two that are four feet tall. I cried when our basement flooded and I realized that I had lost all my competition score sheets.

Professional photo! With accordion #3. My Gorbachev forehead scar really stands out in this photo.

When I decided to quit playing at age 19, I really quit. I put the accordion in the box and walked away. The years that I spent focusing and practicing seem like another lifetime, like they belong to another person. I take the accordion out once in awhile. My shoulders, arms, and legs ache from the weight of it (my heaviest one is well over 20 pounds).

These days, if you tell someone you play the accordion, they’ll reward you with cool points (thanks, Harmony, if you’re reading this). God knows that I never played the accordion to be cool. I played because I loved it and because I was really good at it. Being that-girl-that-plays-the-accordion was my thing, but it was something very private at the same time. Ask any of my non-accordion friends about my accordion career, if you can call it that, and they’ll have very little to tell you.

If I’m ever feeling brave enough and practice really hard, I might – MIGHT- post an audio or video recording of myself playing. In the meantime, enjoy this video. I saw this live.. it’s unreal to see it posted on the Internet.

And another. Video is shaky, but this is f’in awesome.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ny4lJj441Go

I Had A Crush On Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson

Oh, man. Today is a sad day for me. June 25, 2009: Michael Jackson has died. I have been watching the coverage on CNN. It’s obvious how shocking and huge this news is. I first heard about Michael Jackson being rushed to the ER on Twitter. Got the sad news of his death listening to the radio (94.7 FM in Chicago). May he rest in peace.

Michael Jackson was my first crush. I remember being 4 or 5 years old, and just LOVING him. My family would make fun of me for it. I didn’t like watching the Thriller video because the zombies scared me. We had a Michael Jackson glove.

I still loved Michael Jackson when Bad came out, but I was over my crush. By the time Black & White was released, I didn’t care much about Michael Jackson  – but I all still knew the songs and the dance moves. In my teen years, I learned to really love and appreciate The Jackson Five (particularly I Want You Back) and came to an awareness of the progression of Michael Jackson’s career. By then, it was extremely difficult to reconcile young Michael with older Michael. But he was still an amazing performer.

I don’t think anyone will ever understand Michael Jackson and all of his quirks. And, that’s okay. I don’t feel a need to understand Michael, the man. I realize he was human, I think he was kindhearted, and it’s clear that he was loved not just by his fans, but by his family and others close to him. His sudden death will cause ripples for awhile. The one clear takeaway is that Michael Jackson was a true talent – and no on can deny that.

This is how I will always remember Michael Jackson. Beat It and Billie Jean are two major pieces of my childhood. I hear these songs and I immediately begin to feel the excitement I felt when I was a little girl. I’m not being sentimental. I’m being completely serious. I also remember wondering who Billie Jean was, and being jealous that Michael was singing about another girl.

You can read more about Michael Jackson’s death just about anywhere, but click here for a great reaction and story that I loved reading.