When I was about 15 I recognized the invasion of my precious musical space by an alien element: not an E.T., but an L.P.
I had the kind of quick auditory memory that relished first hearings, especially of sounds completely new to me: I had heard my first live string quartet at the age of 6 and I will never forget the setting, the impact of the sound. It was not a concert, at a Christmas church service; I was in no way prepared for such a surprise and I have no idea what the music was: it does not matter.
So, looking forward to my newly purchased L.P. of Arthur Grumiaux and Clara Haskil performing Mozart Piano and Violin Sonatas, I was instantly turned off by the cold quality of the sound as by the knowledge that I had no desire to hear it twice, for that would be the ultimate oxymoron.
We can really hear only once. Every subsequent hearing must be as newly heard.
Do you voluntarily repeat yourself in conversation?
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Monday, September 22, 2014
Are All Upbeats Followed by Downbeats?
According to some points of view that is indeed the case. All bar lines and all beats assume the rhythm of up / down. But to me that seems an oversimplification that would seem to imply that all rhythmic vitality comes from either body movement or from speech rhythms. But I maintain that there is often a third source of metric vitality, the play of the mind. Why not imagine a succession of upbeats? or downbeats for that matter?
So you might say it becomes a matter of a prolonged upbeats or downbeat. Okay with me. These are the hardest kinds of meter to produce as the timing is critical as is the touch to keep the listener from automatically doing a toe-tap evasion of this level of humor.
Sticking strictly to the indicated articulations is a great hint as to how this often works. I highly recommend it, especially in music of the Classical period, which is conventionally taught without the slightest heed of the articulations, leaving only beats and bar lines to hang onto.
So you might say it becomes a matter of a prolonged upbeats or downbeat. Okay with me. These are the hardest kinds of meter to produce as the timing is critical as is the touch to keep the listener from automatically doing a toe-tap evasion of this level of humor.
Sticking strictly to the indicated articulations is a great hint as to how this often works. I highly recommend it, especially in music of the Classical period, which is conventionally taught without the slightest heed of the articulations, leaving only beats and bar lines to hang onto.
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Playing at a Party
Last night I attended a magnificent 70th birthday celebration of a dear friend, a large party attended not only by his family, but by many of his scientist colleagues--people I don't know, as well as by many mutual friends and my family.
After some extraordinary conversations with some of the guests I was to play a piece on the piano. I had found what I thought would be the perfect selection: The Strenuous Life by Scott Joplin. As I played I thought about the need for surprise, for constant variation, for defying expectations, and ended up producing a puzzling, perhaps even haunting, reading rather than a smash and grab type of performance--I'm no good at those, anyway.
It was clearly a complicated thing to play under those circumstances. I know that some people heard it. Maybe others will hear it in retrospect, that often happens when I play for strangers.
After some extraordinary conversations with some of the guests I was to play a piece on the piano. I had found what I thought would be the perfect selection: The Strenuous Life by Scott Joplin. As I played I thought about the need for surprise, for constant variation, for defying expectations, and ended up producing a puzzling, perhaps even haunting, reading rather than a smash and grab type of performance--I'm no good at those, anyway.
It was clearly a complicated thing to play under those circumstances. I know that some people heard it. Maybe others will hear it in retrospect, that often happens when I play for strangers.
Saturday, September 20, 2014
Sound and Theory: Vive la Difference!
This morning I had occasion yet again to taste the difference between sound processed directly and sound explained a priori by theoretical concepts. My student hears without conceptual interference; I hear always with conceptual interference. The difference is revealing.
The reason to hear with theoretical concepts interceding is that it saves time. But note that the time saved is superficial time, inconsequential in the grander scheme of things.
And what is that grander scheme? Attentiveness.
The music in question was a Bartok setting of a folk song from For Children, the two brilliant volumes he made for his sons. This is Bartok at his very best, with every detail directed specifically to developing ears of the deepest love and affection as opposed to an anonymous public clamoring for more, more: more notes, more speed, more bravura.
Every connection, every note put in or left out became a moment of deepest intention on the part of all three of us: the student, myself, and Bartok.
The reason to hear with theoretical concepts interceding is that it saves time. But note that the time saved is superficial time, inconsequential in the grander scheme of things.
And what is that grander scheme? Attentiveness.
The music in question was a Bartok setting of a folk song from For Children, the two brilliant volumes he made for his sons. This is Bartok at his very best, with every detail directed specifically to developing ears of the deepest love and affection as opposed to an anonymous public clamoring for more, more: more notes, more speed, more bravura.
Every connection, every note put in or left out became a moment of deepest intention on the part of all three of us: the student, myself, and Bartok.
Friday, September 19, 2014
A Blog Reader Has Made My Day - Thank you!
A faithful reader of this blog did me and it a tremendous service this morning by sending me an email with a question about a Mozart string quartet.
Many subjects ran concurrently in the question: Why hate Mozart? Are you worth listening to? And more, which I try to elucidate, though that is not simple.
The reader is a lifelong aficionado of chamber music and plays both violin and viola extremely well. Wherever she goes - and she has traveled and lived, it is safe to say, both far and wide - she has brought her instruments with her and disseminated her love of playing music with people of all ages and descriptions. It would be impossible to pay her greater tribute.
Now she asks whether some of the musical references she suspects are lurking within the Mozart A major quartet are really there. If she finds them then they are surely there. She would like me to back her up in this. But I, for sure, will not find them by looking at the score, for they can be found only by listening. I do not know how to read that way, having realized that such spontaneous in-depth listening is not accessible to me by reading the notes.
My suggestion to her has to do with making her colleagues listen as she brings out the references she detects. Perhaps they exist in her part only: Mozart famously played any one of the three upper voices in his quartets, so he was liable to hide anything at all in any one of them. You may be sure that whichever part he played his fellow quarteters would be paying attention to his articulations, to his pronunciation of this or that phrase. He would surely have played so that they had little choice but to pay attention.
These are the very things that, unrecognized, are glossed over by "correct" interpretations, in which homogeneity rules, rather than playful interchange between parts whose proper enunciation require four passionate personalities, inviting, commanding one another's attention.
Many subjects ran concurrently in the question: Why hate Mozart? Are you worth listening to? And more, which I try to elucidate, though that is not simple.
The reader is a lifelong aficionado of chamber music and plays both violin and viola extremely well. Wherever she goes - and she has traveled and lived, it is safe to say, both far and wide - she has brought her instruments with her and disseminated her love of playing music with people of all ages and descriptions. It would be impossible to pay her greater tribute.
Now she asks whether some of the musical references she suspects are lurking within the Mozart A major quartet are really there. If she finds them then they are surely there. She would like me to back her up in this. But I, for sure, will not find them by looking at the score, for they can be found only by listening. I do not know how to read that way, having realized that such spontaneous in-depth listening is not accessible to me by reading the notes.
My suggestion to her has to do with making her colleagues listen as she brings out the references she detects. Perhaps they exist in her part only: Mozart famously played any one of the three upper voices in his quartets, so he was liable to hide anything at all in any one of them. You may be sure that whichever part he played his fellow quarteters would be paying attention to his articulations, to his pronunciation of this or that phrase. He would surely have played so that they had little choice but to pay attention.
These are the very things that, unrecognized, are glossed over by "correct" interpretations, in which homogeneity rules, rather than playful interchange between parts whose proper enunciation require four passionate personalities, inviting, commanding one another's attention.
Are You Worth Being Listened To?
It is usually with some embarrassment that people tell me, as many do, that they "took piano lessons for a while." What is the source of their embarrassment? Impossible to tell, for sure. But I have the feeling that some, if not most of that emotion comes from their recalled feelings of combined inadequacy and non-comprehension.
Inadequacy is the main lesson taught by the teacher's constant insistence that every note be correct and played on time: This impossible and meaningless standard will certainly foster feelings of inadequacy on the part of the student, particularly if gifted or intelligent.
Non-comprehension is fostered by the lack of vocabulary in which to frame questions, and there are many questions. Why do I have to practice such boring music? Are technical exercises really that important when I hate them so much? How can Mozart be so famous when I find nothing of interest in this sonata?
In teaching/learning situations like those I evoke above, the one thing the teacher is not doing is listening to you. If the teacher heard your boredom the teacher would surely address it, enlighten your ear and your mind, teach you about the wonders of the hand and fingers, reveal how much more there is to music than what is printed on the page.
But teachers are not encouraged to listen to what you bring to your playing. They know how to listen for the finished product and when that is not there they know how to make you feel inadequate.
Everyone's loss.
Inadequacy is the main lesson taught by the teacher's constant insistence that every note be correct and played on time: This impossible and meaningless standard will certainly foster feelings of inadequacy on the part of the student, particularly if gifted or intelligent.
Non-comprehension is fostered by the lack of vocabulary in which to frame questions, and there are many questions. Why do I have to practice such boring music? Are technical exercises really that important when I hate them so much? How can Mozart be so famous when I find nothing of interest in this sonata?
In teaching/learning situations like those I evoke above, the one thing the teacher is not doing is listening to you. If the teacher heard your boredom the teacher would surely address it, enlighten your ear and your mind, teach you about the wonders of the hand and fingers, reveal how much more there is to music than what is printed on the page.
But teachers are not encouraged to listen to what you bring to your playing. They know how to listen for the finished product and when that is not there they know how to make you feel inadequate.
Everyone's loss.
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Too Much Text
An art historian friend tells me of the trend in art museums not to have "program notes" next to the art works; nobody looks at the art, they just read the text and think they have had the experience they paid for.
Or perhaps they click the camera in their phone.
Well, so I'm part of a trend. A bas the written barrier. Turn on the eyes and turn on the ears. Indulge the senses; get back to the reason why the stuff exists in the first place: as a sign of life for the creator, the performer, the beholder.
Nothing short of wow.
Or perhaps they click the camera in their phone.
Well, so I'm part of a trend. A bas the written barrier. Turn on the eyes and turn on the ears. Indulge the senses; get back to the reason why the stuff exists in the first place: as a sign of life for the creator, the performer, the beholder.
Nothing short of wow.
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