Upheaval!

As those who have been following my frantic Facebook updates can attest, the month of February has been a CRAZY time. To make a long story short, I was convinced to do a very last-minute audition for the Master of Music in Collaborative Piano program at the University of Idaho. I've spent all month putting together my audition music, and this afternoon I presented it to the Idaho piano faculty. The whole trip was a little nerve-wracking, to say the least, but I'm excited. This program is exactly what I'm looking for, and I am falling more in love with the campus every minute.

Like this, but with fewer leaves and more snow.

There is a comforting familiarity in the Idaho music building. Even though I've only been there once before, when I auditioned for their undergrad program five years ago, there's a worn-in feeling, like a favorite pair of shoes. The energy of the music students feels the same as Western, where I got my bachelor's degrees. I went in yesterday evening to meet with a professor and found a familiar chaos: a high school choir concert in the midst of getting out; college students shouldering their way through; a group of pianists (I presume) lounging in the lobby and watching piano videos. They laughed with glee over a showy Chopin etude. "This one is my favorite!" They shot curious glances at me as I rounded the staircase and returned my smile.

I could be in that group, I thought. I suddenly ached for the easy solidarity of pianists, people joined in their shared love for the instrument with all its necessary struggle and success. Dr. Zavislak, the professor who has been my main contact at Idaho, assured me that the pianists here were really friendly. "Just knock on one of the piano practice doors when you need to go warm up," she said, "they'll let you in. They're really nice."

Even with as much work as it's been to get to this point, and with all the trepidation I feel about plunging right into grad school--without the extra fall to get my act together-- I can see myself falling into place here. When I originally decided to go to Western, I convinced myself of all the reasons why Idaho wasn't right: too much money, too far away from home, not enough mountains. The desolate Palouse stretches out for miles around the campus, its scraggly midwinter hills offering little variation. It was by no means the evergreen paradise that Bellingham offered. But now, I find myself comparing all the ways that Idaho will be a welcome change from my undergraduate school:

1. The practice rooms have windows! You'd be amazed what a difference a little daylight makes.
2. The offices in the main music building (or Dr. Zavislak's office, anyway) are HUGE. We're talking two-Steinways-and-a-harpsichord, couch, file cabinets, bookshelves, potted plants, vaulted ceiling, three windows huge. She was like "Sorry it's such a mess!" but all I could think about was how if you took out the pianos you could fit half an orchestra in there.
3. There is regular snow. I like snow. (the downside is that there are probably never snow days, just snowy days. this will require a wardrobe adjustment)
4. There were a lot of cute boys around campus. *cough*
5. Pretty much all the music students around the building were nice/smiled at me/said hello. 
6. I like the piano faculty! They all seem really friendly and approachable.

So, that's encouraging. Of course, I noticed some other things too. Not necessarily bad, just... different:

1. At least a third of the student body owns pickup trucks. More if you count SUVs. CRAZY. I'm putting it down to the miles of farmland surrounding U of I. Also, I guess, the snow.
2. Campus is enormous. Probably still smaller than UW, but most definitely larger than WWU. You can't just stroll to the other end of campus, it's like a good 15 minute walk.
3. You can't drive through campus (easily). Of course, you couldn't drive through WWU either... but at least they didn't have streets going halfway through and then ending because, whoops! Campus walkway.
4. Parking lots got really full during the day. Not sure how that would work out if I choose to commute. There might be a bus system, but I only saw a shuttle.
5. The practice room walls were really thin. This is a definite downside. We were kinda spoiled in the WWU piano practice rooms though.
6. The practice building is over 100 years old (constructed in 1902!!). It has tile floors, which are not conducive to lying down and napping. Neither is a Master of Music program, though, so I guess this is for the best.
7. People at U of I dress exactly like people at WWU (except with fewer North Face jackets), right down to skirts, leggings, and shorts in 35 degree weather with snow on the ground. Ladies, I admire your determination, but SERIOUSLY? I thought my face was going to fall off from the cold. 
8. There weren't a ton of posters stuck up around the buildings. Maybe there just aren't a lot of recitals at this time of the semester?
9. The housing office (the only non-music university entity I interacted with besides the parking office) was SUPER friendly and nice. Score, Idaho!

The audition itself was over with much more quickly than I thought it would be. I played through about two thirds of my Haydn sonata first movement, less than a page of the second, part of my Mozart sonata, part of my Schumann art song (plus I had to explain the plot, which makes me very glad I looked up the translation), all of my Barber art song, and none of the Chausson art song (probably for the best). Plus some sight reading that wasn't honestly my most perfect effort, but Dr. Yang, the collaborative piano professor, seemed to find passable. We had a little Q&A afterward, during which I failed to come up with any good questions, and they asked me about my motivations. I think I came off well. Dr. Yang cautioned me that the master's program would be a lot of work and I would have stacks and stacks of music to work through, that I'd definitely be sitting in on the vocal masterclass every week and sightreading--but, she said, "I didn't think your sight reading was that bad." Which I took to mean that she found me more or less up to the task. She had me sight read through a De Falla cancion, which I hadn't played before, and a Ned Rorem piece, which I was pretty sure after the fact that I had. 

Then Dr. Zavislak bid me adieu. I'll hear back about their decision at a later date. I am cautiously optimistic. My fingers are crossed, when they aren't untangling the Hindemith bassoon sonata for a recital next week.

It just never ends.