It was common knowledge back in the day when recordings were first produced--not that I was around to witness their birth--that tempi were often determined by the amount of time available per side of those clunky disks.
Such industrial tempi have affected us as listeners in ways we have yet to fathom. The industry continues to manipulate time in the interests of production, so it is up to us artists and audience to notice how our inner musical metronomes are being manipulated.
In this CD era I notice that the dead space between tracks between movements of a sonata or symphony has now become standard concert practice, despite the fact that Beethoven and Brahms, for example, went to great pains to enliven those "silences" by carefully notated metric as well as tonal transitions, even subtly indicating the degree of resolution in "final" chords.
What will it take for us to put life back into this essential musical element?
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Friday, August 31, 2012
Time into Music
This morning I had a major revelation about life time in relation to musical time: A dear old friend contacted me the other day resuscitating fond memories from many years ago. Overwhelmed, I found myself playing the Schubert G major Sonata with the Molto moderato e cantabile first movement in 12/8. The tempo took on a whole new meaning as savoring past and present revealed something essential about sustained harmonies.
Ordinarily I am far too impatient to let my sense of forward motion be interfered with to that extent, but this time it was as if Schubert was allowing time -- all time -- to stand most powerfully still.
Ordinarily I am far too impatient to let my sense of forward motion be interfered with to that extent, but this time it was as if Schubert was allowing time -- all time -- to stand most powerfully still.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
About that Spark
I have been told that my work on Tonal Refraction is about "what gets trained out of us" -- us being professional musicians.
I firmly believe it is possible to teach children while maintaining the spark. It also seems clear to me that the young musicians who opt to go downtown (i.e., to Brooklyn) are keeping the spark alive for what will eventually be called our culture.
Curiously, more and more Music Theory dissertations are being written about that "other" music.
I firmly believe it is possible to teach children while maintaining the spark. It also seems clear to me that the young musicians who opt to go downtown (i.e., to Brooklyn) are keeping the spark alive for what will eventually be called our culture.
Curiously, more and more Music Theory dissertations are being written about that "other" music.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Close to the Spark
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.
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.
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.
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