Ponte Vecchio (The Old Bridge): The following are experiments with different effects.

A special pear dessert seeped in some sort of plum wine sauce at our last restaurant. in Firenze that Emily and Victoria brought us to.

Colosso

Pantheon

Inside San Pietro

The Vatican

This is my favorite.

Tiffany Poon, age 13, grade 7, born and raised in Hong Kong, played around with her toy piano figuring out complicated musical passages at the age of 2, began lessons at the age of 3/4, when she began practicing for 3-4 hours a day, and is currently studying at Julliard. Currently on her Eurotrip, and stopped by the University of Bologna for a 3 hour concert, where students from the Music studies department were extended a private invitation – music therapy and pedagogical center. I brought three friends with me to listen to her play a very traditional repertoire of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Debussy, and Liszt, ending with two encores.

One of the things I appreciate the most in Italy is their appreciation for the arts, in a general sense. Never have I received such positive responses in relation to studying music, and wanting to go into the music therapy field. Never have I sensed such enthusiasm from a whole group of people, such fascination and encouragement. Perhaps this is where I need to be to believe that it could actually happen. My mom told me that as she watches me study music, transfer to Wesleyan and begin studying ethnomusic, she’s watched my perception to music grow, change, and mature. I think there’s something about music that brings me to life, and feel things that only happens when I’m in the experience of music. Epiphanies and specific sensitivity to certain things occur. The times which I’ve attended concerts in Italy have resulted in the most interesting sensations, sometimes a clarity in something that’s been gnawing at my mind, or a certain organization of a chaotic decision, or simply just an overwhelming sense of peace.

Having watched so many concerts in my life, I find it fascinating that one of the best concerts I’ve attended happened in a small Sala called Sala Mozart in one of the department buildings in Bologna, and by a 7th grader. Not because she has amazing technique, or that her execution is near-perfect, or that she knows how to express music and interpret it so that she seems to own it, all of which she does, but because she plays with the confidence that she understands the music at a certain level, even at such young of an age. Listening to her play and watching her play is a complete different experience, and I’ve never seen anyone enjoy playing so much. A piano player myself, I am aware that we all learn how to use all the parts of our body when playing, both to help our playing, but also stage the performance. However, for her, she doesn’t seem to stage a performance, she just seems to feel the music at every moment. My favorite moment? I was very familiar with her repertoire, and knew when all the challenging bits came up. I loved watching her expression change as she tackled the challenging bits, an expression of delight and fun, as if knowing that it would go well, and that finish of satisfaction. How different from the rest of us when we know we’re about to hit a tough spot! If only we all tackled tough spots with such frivolity. Watching her is such excitement, and brings such relaxation and a peaceful mind. Do I believe in music therapy? It’s very difficult not to.

My favorite piece that she played was Chopin Ballad no.1, partially because I love Chopin, and the Romantic period, but partially because I have special relationship with the Chopin Ballad. This was one of my mom’s graduate performance pieces, in which I sat under the piano at a very young age and listened to her practice for. It was one of her favorites. In high school, when I first began learning it on my own, she gently recommended that I pause it, and play it later, telling me that it’s an incredibly dense piece, emotionally, and that she felt I needed to be at a certain maturity level to play it. I was 17. I haven’t touched the piece since then. That night, when I listened to her play it, somehow I understood what my mom meant, because listening to her was a very different experience from any time I’ve heard it. My hands itch to pick up that piece again. I know that it will be a different experience everytime I pick it up again, 2 years from now, 5 years from now…each time I hit a different stage of life and maturity level. She certainly handled the piece with a certain maturity level.

Therapeutic. That was the word I used to describe her playing, very unconsciously, when I stepped out of the Sala and walked my friend to her bike. Without really thinking about it, but because it was how it felt. All of a sudden I was estatic about art, and couldn’t help but notice how beautiful the lighting on architecture here (no wonder my night shots turn out so well!), or remember the first time my mom and I listened to my brother learn Rachmaninoff’s Flight of the Bumblebee, and call it “the dying bumblebee”, or how much I wanted to just lie in bed because how much adrenaline was running through me. It has been so long since I felt such passion for classical music, having spent so much time with drumming and the avant-garde.

It will be impossible to load videos onto this post, so youtube her, if you get a chance. She plays with such grace. If you see her in a black and red dress, that would be her, the night I saw her…

Unfortunately there are none of the Chopin…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3oaKkTsLn0

Venezia!

The canals

I watched this man make the masks that I ended up buying. I think we strolled into one of the most genuine, antique mask boutique in Venice. How fortunate!

My favorite store…

Venice is famous for its pastries (how wonderful for me!). Their specialty is the “Fritelle Venezia”, fried dough with powdered sugar and raisins. It’s a very interesting texture – very moist inside, airy, even though it looks like a round puff. I think mommy would like it. All the other things were very yummy too..

The trees were people and grabbed at you when oblivious people walked by. This one and I had a poking fight.When my friends send me pictures you guys can see more pictures of my facepaint but that’s it for now. My friends enjoyed my Italy colors

There was a mask competition that was publicly showsn in the San Marco square

The crowd

Venice might be one of my favorite cities in Italy…and you must all come and see it with me again! Next time, I’ll actually tour the city, but this time, it was just to experience the excitement of Carnevale!

After a month long of intensive Italian (course-wise and environment-wise), this is how the kids lo studentato Poeti decides to celebrate

We are off to Madrid, Spain for 4 days and 3 nights.

The girls (yes, mommy my hair did grow a LOT)

We had a lot of fun with the cows in Spain. That is a new jacket of mine, one of my few purchases in Italy during the Sale season. I couldn’t resist! Oh, United Colors of Benetton…

Han, I kept wondering if you met this man…

Daddy, Han and I went to the same Tapa place while in Madrid, isn’t that so cool? Turns out it was one the most recommended on my friend’s book as well. Funny how we walk the world together at different times, isn’t it?

This reminded me of Han. He must have been like that at that age. Mesmerized by music.

Han said he walked down this road also…

This was one my favorite photos of the trip. Museo del Prado.

Paella, my favorite food in Spagna. Daddy, it was rice! I think you might’ve enjoyed this!

My silly photo idea

Inside the church.

Vale!

Adios, Espagna!

These first few were taken on a Sunday afternoon when Mommy, Daddy, and I walked around the pier.

This one of Mommy with a bridge behind her is very nice. I will want to print a large picture of this one day!

Mommy, you ruined an otherwise very nice picture by not having your eyes open! I still liked it enough to post it, though! Especially Daddy’s hair.

These next few were taken at the park where I played tennis.

This next one was taken near Nanjing East Rd out of the window of Daddy’s car.

This is at the pig feet place.

Mommy and Grandma.

In the alleys of downtown Dan Shui. I wish I had taken more pictures!

This one has the same problem. Everyone looks good, but there’s a silly light spot falling on ah gong’s forehead.

This one makes ah gong look like a pianist. Our house looks very nice in pictures.

Lots of nice looking scarves in these.

I like this one — it looks very spontaneous. Mommy looks so happy.

Mommy took this one. In the future, try not to cut people off at the thighs. Just get the full body. Still a good picture, though. I like the composition with the umbrellas in the background.

These few of mommy and puo puo cooking dinner are among my favorites. Those pig feet look delicious.

Another few of ah gong and puo puo in our beautiful home.

This one is going to be daddy in a few years. So much good food in Taiwan and you can survive on peanuts.

I like the scarf.