This is how I describe my approach to teaching young children to play the piano. The spark is inside of each child, principally in their ear/imagination, and also coming from the inexhaustible riches of the piano sound.
After decades of figuring out how to teach children to play in a way that enriches their lives forever, I am at last confident that the connection between the hand and the ear lies in the sense of touch, and that this can be awakened and refined from day one. Once awakened it provides a reliable link to creativity in reading the music of others as well as in making music of one's own.
I am actively seeking students to fill slots vacated by moves away to college, to new homes out of state. If you know of possible candidates please direct them to this blog or have them contact me directly.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Lyricism and Children
The lyrical impulse is so integral to the child that it is no wonder I find children so fascinating. The older I get, the more experienced in music, the closer I feel to the child that I was when I first became intrigued with the elements of sound and color.
The lyrical impulse is all too easily trained out of us, as one music theorist put it. Anyone who survives training with any semblance of the lyrical left in him or her is truly exceptional.
By nature fleeting, the lyrical is therefore surely suspect.
The lyrical impulse is all too easily trained out of us, as one music theorist put it. Anyone who survives training with any semblance of the lyrical left in him or her is truly exceptional.
By nature fleeting, the lyrical is therefore surely suspect.
Monday, August 27, 2012
The American Urge to Improvise
Native to the American musical impulse is the urge to improvise; all kinds of musics attest to that from Native American to jazz. Does this make the study of classical music irrelevant to American kids?
It shouldn't. Consider how important improvisation was throughout the history of what we call classical music. Why aren't we comfortable letting our kids improv(is)e on music they know from reading? What is so sacrosanct about the printed text?
Mind you, no one is fussier than I am about reading accurately and sticking to the text. But there is sticking and there is sticking. When music is all repetition--i.e., when timing and balance are rigidly pre-figured, there is no traction in the player's or in the listener's ear-brain.
I hear it all too often in the concert hall and see no reason why I should allow my students to think that that is music.
It shouldn't. Consider how important improvisation was throughout the history of what we call classical music. Why aren't we comfortable letting our kids improv(is)e on music they know from reading? What is so sacrosanct about the printed text?
Mind you, no one is fussier than I am about reading accurately and sticking to the text. But there is sticking and there is sticking. When music is all repetition--i.e., when timing and balance are rigidly pre-figured, there is no traction in the player's or in the listener's ear-brain.
I hear it all too often in the concert hall and see no reason why I should allow my students to think that that is music.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Reading a sonata for fun
Today began with an 18-year-old student reading through a Beethoven sonata with a question in her mind: Where is the song movement?
Working on the premise that a sonata typically has a sonata allegro movement, a song movement, a dance movement, and then a rondo or other sort of finale, this particular piece had only three, which raised the question of what had happened to the song.
To hear her play the piece searching for the hidden song element was to experience it in a whole new light. She had a wonderful time and so did I.
It made me wonder why we approach sonatas as structurally fixed instead of imagining that they explore subject material at itsmost basic.
Working on the premise that a sonata typically has a sonata allegro movement, a song movement, a dance movement, and then a rondo or other sort of finale, this particular piece had only three, which raised the question of what had happened to the song.
To hear her play the piece searching for the hidden song element was to experience it in a whole new light. She had a wonderful time and so did I.
It made me wonder why we approach sonatas as structurally fixed instead of imagining that they explore subject material at itsmost basic.
Friday, August 24, 2012
What is it about Childhood?
I enjoy teaching children, though I consider it the hardest job I have ever undertaken. Assuming that a child's responses are fully resonant I pay attention to them and from them learn more about music than from much prose being written about music these days.
I learn, for example, that formulas are a coverup, an excuse for not paying attention.
I include scales, chord progressions and structural analysis in the category of formulas. The less I teach formulas, the more significant details become in the child's musical experience.
The challenge is to engage the full perceptual awareness of the child at every moment of playing without recourse to a quickly accessible generalization that potentially masks the moment.
I learn, for example, that formulas are a coverup, an excuse for not paying attention.
I include scales, chord progressions and structural analysis in the category of formulas. The less I teach formulas, the more significant details become in the child's musical experience.
The challenge is to engage the full perceptual awareness of the child at every moment of playing without recourse to a quickly accessible generalization that potentially masks the moment.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
The Poet Speaking
The trouble with music theory is that it often interferes with the fragile, vulnerable aspects of sound, apparent only to the unfettered ear: once an objective system of sound or function identification takes over, the details risk being lost.
This morning a student's halting but sensitive reading of Beethoven's Gminor Sonata, Op. 49, No.1 revealed more to me about the work than I had ever known. She heard and relished its strangeness in a way that eludes my theoretically educated mind.
The distraction of a theoretically educated mind has kept The Poet Speaks, from Schumann's Kinderszenen, from speaking to me. Until now. Years of listening to children have taught me the limitations of my over-trained ear.
This morning a student's halting but sensitive reading of Beethoven's Gminor Sonata, Op. 49, No.1 revealed more to me about the work than I had ever known. She heard and relished its strangeness in a way that eludes my theoretically educated mind.
The distraction of a theoretically educated mind has kept The Poet Speaks, from Schumann's Kinderszenen, from speaking to me. Until now. Years of listening to children have taught me the limitations of my over-trained ear.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Schumann's Kinderszenen are much on my mind as I prepare to play this cycle. It reminds me of the Dichterliebe cycle in its intense lyricism.
How would I define lyricism? A distillation of every element of a work such that no instant, however fleeting or seemingly ordinary, is without meaning. In other words, a relishing of the moment.
This might do as a definition of the opposite of sentimentality: a swimming around in the moment, rendering it gross, bloated, meaningless.
How would I define lyricism? A distillation of every element of a work such that no instant, however fleeting or seemingly ordinary, is without meaning. In other words, a relishing of the moment.
This might do as a definition of the opposite of sentimentality: a swimming around in the moment, rendering it gross, bloated, meaningless.
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