Therapy Team 1

I love learning. The process of learning what therapy was for stroke survivors was fascinating for me.  As a teacher and would-be perennial student, learning about the benefits and machinations of occupational, physical, and speech therapy was exciting. I knew it was critical for me to observe John’s process and progress from the standpoint of being an advocate for his care. However, once I was able to be at his appointments as much as possible, I got hooked on the process itself. It was as if I was back in college, taking a new class, cracking open a fresh smelling new textbook and diving into a new opportunity to learn something completely different.

Looking back at my reaction to learning about therapy, I realize how grateful I am now that I found Therapy 101 so exciting. My excitement put me on a gratitude ship that allowed me to sail right through the tragedy of why John and I were really in all of these therapy classes. I was able to focus on the goals of his improvement without looking back at the past at all. I locked my panic about John’s condition in a footlocker and tucked it away in a musty closet in the hold of the ship. As long as I didn’t dwell on the panic and fear inside me, I could enjoy my new titles: Chief Advocate and Captain Support.

I felt empowered.  I could throw him the lifeline that would help him improve. As long as he grabbed the other end of that lifeline, together, John and I could do this! Our team attitude that was well developed from our music performing careers together kicked in.  We could get him back to his former self. If we practiced daily and kept on the same page of the score, he would be walking and talking in no time. All he had to do was pick up the other end of the lifeline I threw to him.

At least this was my plan, this was the theory. I learned many lessons along the way about that plan. 

 2014 Nancy Weckwerth

Teammates to the Fore 3

The third and largest project that John and I wrote completely as a team was a full length ballet entitled “Leharjinn”. This was written sometime between 1983-1986 while we were living in Toronto, Ontario.

Somehow we learned of a ballet composition competition that was occurring in Geneva, Switzerland. The prize, with details now long forgotten, was a performance by some ballet company and orchestra in Europe, and a financial prize. John and I decided to dig in and submit an entry to the competition. One of the requirements was that it would be for full orchestra.

The first step was to create a story for the ballet. I dashed that off in a couple of days. Then we planned out the many individual movements that would be performed by the dancers in order to tell the story. In this situation, we felt we were each more suited to specific movements so we chose who would write each movement. The orchestration was communal however.

To describe the basic compositional process, we initially wrote the ideas for piano. At this point the work is basically a sketch for piano with the melodies, countermelodies, and harmonies outlined.  The second step is to decide which instruments are to play which notes of that piano rendition. That process is called “orchestration”. An Orchestrator makes those decisions. The Orchestrator can be likened to a painter that adds the color to a black and white sketch. The Orchestrator takes a large piece of paper that has enough staves on it for each instrument that will be performing. This is called a “score”. Then the notes are carefully placed on the individual staffs. One staff for the first violins, one staff for the second violins, then violas, cellos, and bass. This continues for each and every instrument that will have something to play. When it is completed, the score is used by the Conductor to conduct the composition.

John and I put score paper on the dining room table. For several months we ate somewhere else as that table was the creative venue for our magnum opus. Whomever strolled through that room worked on the orchestration of the entire ballet.

Months later, and a trip from Toronto, Ontario to Buffalo, New York to have it photocopied, we mailed off our entry to Switzerland.

We eventually heard that our piece was one of the top three selected for the prize: but no prize was awarded. This was both a boost to our ego and a slap in our face.

Years later we learned one of the lessons of composition competitions. Apparently it is no secret that a specific type of work is being commissioned. A competition is announced. If none of the works meets the criteria that is unofficially but realistically desired, then no award is given. The contest promoters keep their prize money and try again next year.

At one point in my career of creating performances of works on synthesizer, I actually recorded the entire ballet. Its only performance exists on a now deteriorating set of two cassette tapes. The full orchestral score is lovingly protected, carefully boxed, on a shelf in our garage. It is a skeleton living there: a relic of our past lives as professional musicians and composers together.

All lessons learned aside, John and I enjoyed every moment of writing that beautiful piece. It was yet another series of teamwork projects that solidified our capacity to work together. The real value of “Leharjinn” is that I now know that this was an important piece the Universe gave to us to prepare us for our greatest teamwork project of all, that of surviving a stroke and thriving together in love and joy.

 2014 Nancy Weckwerth

Teammates to the Fore 2

Teamwork project number two occurred during our three years of travelling with the Mantovani Orchestra throughout the United States from 1983-1985. A singer had arrived to perform with the orchestra and the music he brought with him for the orchestra was actually for a big band. It was the wrong instrumentation for the Mantovani Orchestra [1] which is mostly strings with a few brass, woodwinds, and one percussionist. Overnight and working in a hotel room, John rewrote the entire piece for the correct instruments while I copied the musical parts for the players. The next morning at the rehearsal, the orchestra members played straight through the work: there was not one error.

By nightfall, it was performed on stage.

John and I were continuing to develop the ability to work together accurately, quickly, and with a highly advanced set of musical skills. We did this without even thinking about how lucky we were to be able to enjoy our abilities together. What was necessary, we accomplished. 

How well these skills would serve us, in the completely different world of physical, occupational, and speech therapy in the future. Life hands us amazing opportunities to learn and grow. Awareness of our lessons often comes years later. We now live in gratitude for the lessons we learned.

---

[1] http://www.themantovaniorchestra.com/

 2014 Nancy Weckwerth

Confessions of a Caregiver: Teammates to the Fore 1

John and I were an amazing team prior to the stroke. As professional musicians we performed together, wrote music together and commuted to gigs together as needed. This professional teamwork added a level of splendiferous joy to our marriage.  Not only were we professional teammates, we considered ourselves soul mates on the personal level. All the stars had lined up for us when we found each other and fell in love.

In our burgeoning business as composers, John and I often collaborated on works that we needed for upcoming recording sessions or other performances. We would put the score on the piano and leave it open. Whomever walked by added the next needed parts of the arrangement as time permitted.

I recall three specific projects where this technique was used. The first was while we were living in the Miami, Florida area. We had been hired to do the arrangements for that ancient technology: the vinyl record album. It was being recorded by a spiritual singer. I believe this would have been in 1982, definitely the pre-compact disc era. The young lady had hired another arranger to do the eleven songs on the album but for some reason which I can no longer recall, he had had to back out of the assignment. We got a panic call and had one week to do the arrangements for strings, brass, a couple of woodwinds, piano, and percussion. This was the first time we ever collaborated on the same works. We had no choice: this was a lot of music to arrange and prepare for the recording session in seven days.

We threw ourselves into the task and there was staff paper, pencils, and erasers spread all over the piano. Our living room looked like the aftermath of a ticker tape parade with larger pieces of paper as these items spilled onto the surrounding floor and copying tables. Whomever was home at the time commandeered the piano and pencils. Whomever walked by later, assessed the progress and continued.

In one week, we both performed on the recording session. Two copies of the vinyl album entitled “Songs of Joy and Praise” sung by Mary Anne Kigar stand proudly, but nearly forgotten on the bookshelves in our home with other vinyl skeletons.

 2014 Nancy Weckwerth