Thursday, July 12, 2007

A little on the Suzuki method

It's just over two weeks until I leave for Tanzania! I write this from Nashville; this is my last full day visiting my boyfriend Tyler. Obviously, it's a really hard day for both of us. But we had a fantastic time here.

A few weeks ago, I had the wonderful experience of being reunited with Liza (my friend and collaborator in Africa) at the Ogontz Suzuki Institute in rural New Hampshire. Lize and I hadn't seen each other in two years! But we'd corresponded extensively through phone and email in order to set up the logistics of my moving to Arusha, and to keep up with each other's lives.

As friends, we picked up right where we left off. She is still hilarious and, in my Mom's words, "a pistol." In other words, she's still the fantastic, smart musician and friend that I'd move across the world to work with. I'm not surprised by this, of course, but it was enormously reassuring to be with her for a week. It was great to be able to ask her all my little questions about Tanzania whenever I wanted!

Liza and her sister Annie, a cellist who spent the past year in Tanzania, are faculty members of the Ogontz Institute. I spent the week observing some truly awesome teaching at the Institute, and enjoying the beautiful camp and adorable kids. This was my chance to get a little bit of "Suzuki immersion," watching great teachers, getting a feel for the way they teach the Suzuki repertoire and the basics of violin technique. While the Suzuki Method is in some ways a fairly standardized approach (the kids all play the same repertoire, learn their first pieces by rote, go to group classes, and have a very involved parent who is the "home teacher"), it's also an approach that allows for a lot of creativity and personality. Each of the Suzuki teachers I observed gave very different lessons, with different pedagogy styles and points of technical emphasis.

In a couple of days, I head to San Diego to get my Book 3 Suzuki Training unit done. I'll meet back up with Liza, take class every day, and (hopefully) go to the beach and enjoy some of my last days in the US. Now that is scary.