Notes From the Piano (Final Installment)

The Beardsley Cup, composed of sterling silver and manufactured in 1907 in London, resides in a custom built display case with the names of the winners of the Beardsley Competition.

This blog post is the fifth and final installment of Notes From the Piano, a series of blog posts about the annual Robert B. Beardsley Piano Competition. To start from the beginning, click here.

As usual, the last few days leading up to the competition were hectic for me, but in a good way. I tend to thrive under pressure, particularly when it’s for something about which I feel great passion. The Beardsley Prize, for me, is the highlight of my year’s work. So much of my effort goes into it. If you’ve read any of my previous blog posts, you’ll understand where I’m coming from. It is pressure, but a good pressure, very motivating.

In addition to all the details I’ve laid out in previous blog entries, I have to collect the bios and photos of the judges and finalists for the program that gets handed out to the audience. The first step in designing the program is finding an eye-catching piece of artwork for the front cover. Fortunately, there seems to be no shortage of piano-themed art in the world. The rest is a matter of simple assembly—putting the pictures and words in place, printing and folding thirty copies.

The fun part about this, aside from the artistic opportunity, is that I don’t know the last detail until the night before the finals. Over the years, I’ve developed a little ceremony in which I meet with the six finalists for them to draw numbers for playing order. I try to make it different each time,  and hopefully entertaining. The first year, for example, I used numbered Solo cups with a variety of beverages (non-alcoholic, of course). Each finalist took a cup and looked on the bottom to see their number.

This year, I chose candy bars. Six varieties, each with a pre-assigned number. I asked the finalists to grab one each, and we went from there. It was eye-opening to see how they responded to the task. Some hesitated to take one at all, while the finalist who took the Milky Way bar (my personal favorite) ripped right into it and had it half-devoured before anyone else had even chosen. (In the end, I got the Mounds bar returned to me by someone who didn’t like cocoanut. OK by me!)

FINALISTS:

William Chiang

Euna Choi

Helena Hyesoo Kim

Daniel Lin

Curtis Pavey

Chenyu Wang

Then come the finals themselves the following morning. With gracious help from First Presbyterian Church, finalists have an opportunity to practice on one of their pianos for an hour before competing. One by one, the finalists cross the parking lot to the church and back, meaning there is a constant traffic flow in progress. I want to thank Ruthmere volunteer Connie Saltzgaber for helping keep this process moving smoothly. The judges and audience are all “out front,” so we have to make sure all the coming and going doesn’t disrupt them, especially while someone is performing. All of this back-and-forth takes place behind closed doors, which means, ironically, I never actually get to see any of the finalists perform. I can listen through the door, but that’s about it. A small sacrifice for all the reward I get from orchestrating (a carefully chosen word) the rest of the event.

As winner, Daniel Lin performed our first concert of the Fall Concert Series on Thursday, October 14th.

I’m happy to report that the day went without a hitch, making a perfect four out of four. Congratulations to Daniel Lin, our grand-prize winner, and to all the others who signed up and participated. Thanks to our sponsors, and to Chupp’s for keeping our pianos in such fine condition.

So, now the finals are over for another year. I always feel a mixture of relief and regret when the competition is over—a release from the anxiety of pulling off a major event combined with an emptiness that comes with its absence. One last thank-you to Richard and Amy and the cast and crew of The Competition for schooling me in the inner workings of a piano competition. With a wistful note, I can now sit back and relax a bit before the Fall Concert Series begins, with the reassurance that next year I get to do it all again.

Ciao!