Ah! It is even more difficult to know Mozart than to know Haydn partly because, in the words of one musical thinker, we have been "Mozarted to death."
I have figured out that Mozart had favorite notes on the piano: the dynamic relationship between C and B.
They are so utterly different that they defy theoretical description, much less prediction. Forget about function, they seem to say. Just listen to this!
But the shifts of specific coloration in Mozart are so many and so mercurial that I know I have not yet weaned my memory from having heard some of his music too many times--so many times that I am "hearing" it only passively, in reply, which is not hearing at all.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Monday, May 6, 2013
How Long Does It Take to Get to Know Haydn?
When I consider how I absolutely hated Haydn's music as I heard it played as a freshman in a music school, I would have to say it takes a lifetime minus 16 years. I have been at it a long time and I am not yet finished getting to know him.
It just occurred to me the other day that he is as fascinated with single tones on the piano as with their potential. Why else would he begin and end so many sonatas with single tones, sometimes embellished, but often at the discretion of the player? Why else would he so often end sonatas with "weak" endings?
It is as if he is expanding and then intensifying our field of auditory awareness exploring the range of auditory space and perception on a multi-dimensional terrain that we are always only just beginning to enter no matter how many times we play the piece.
It is because of Haydn that I have given up on themes and formal vocabulary. Invention, variability, endless delight--these are my guideposts.
I wish he were alive so that I might tell him this.
It just occurred to me the other day that he is as fascinated with single tones on the piano as with their potential. Why else would he begin and end so many sonatas with single tones, sometimes embellished, but often at the discretion of the player? Why else would he so often end sonatas with "weak" endings?
It is as if he is expanding and then intensifying our field of auditory awareness exploring the range of auditory space and perception on a multi-dimensional terrain that we are always only just beginning to enter no matter how many times we play the piece.
It is because of Haydn that I have given up on themes and formal vocabulary. Invention, variability, endless delight--these are my guideposts.
I wish he were alive so that I might tell him this.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
What is so Special about G minor?
In the days when I tuned my harpsichord I became deeply respectful of the singular problem posed by the black keys we call F# and B-flat. Properly tuned in a version of mean-tone temperament, they sound absolutely horrible together.
Even on a modern piano tuned to equal temperament, this combination of keys will inevitably sound like a major third, never a plausible diminished fourth.
That probably explains why Mozart stayed away from the key of G minor on the piano, as did Beethoven, with some notable exceptions: The Piano Quartet K. 478, for example, on which my book is forthcoming.
Haydn, on the other hand, has written in that key, and has taken on the problem in highly creative ways, bless his heart. His trick is to use the ordinarily F# key as a G-flat, thus relishing the major third produced by those particular black keys.
It makes for remarkable tonal passion.
Even on a modern piano tuned to equal temperament, this combination of keys will inevitably sound like a major third, never a plausible diminished fourth.
That probably explains why Mozart stayed away from the key of G minor on the piano, as did Beethoven, with some notable exceptions: The Piano Quartet K. 478, for example, on which my book is forthcoming.
Haydn, on the other hand, has written in that key, and has taken on the problem in highly creative ways, bless his heart. His trick is to use the ordinarily F# key as a G-flat, thus relishing the major third produced by those particular black keys.
It makes for remarkable tonal passion.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Haydn and Jazz
My "oldest living" adult amateur student is an extraordinary world-class scientist, mindful of the vast chasm that separates her work from what she once referred to as "the music part" of music. Needless to say, she is deeply insightful into the workings of the elements in music as in science.
Today, working on her Haydn D major sonata, the issue arose of note values in relation to improvisation, lee-way, variability. Without a strong element of those free elements the note values in Haydn have the power to kill the music.
It is ironic that Haydn's sonatas are as free-form as they are while jazz improvisations are based on what seem to me, in contrast, to be quite tight structures. Of course Haydn was faced with a real dilemma: how to evoke orchestral sounds from a newly invented keyboard instrument whose sound was unlike any previously possible from black and white keys played by two hands with the addition of foot or knee-controlled dampers.
It would have been accepted harpsichord technique to sustain some tones beyond their notated value in order to foster what little sympathetic vibration was possible with harpsichords.
Modern pianists are taught to obey the printed text as if it were the music; sustaining a note beyond its prescribed value is a no-no. But it all depends on the function of the note. Sometimes eighth notes have to function as quarters in disguise, sometimes as tied whole notes in disguise. At other times it is clear that they are eighths and must be released promptly. How do I know?
I pay a lot of attention when I listen whether to amateurs or professionals. Listening has taught me the power of the release and the corresponding power of the urge to sustain.
Today, working on her Haydn D major sonata, the issue arose of note values in relation to improvisation, lee-way, variability. Without a strong element of those free elements the note values in Haydn have the power to kill the music.
It is ironic that Haydn's sonatas are as free-form as they are while jazz improvisations are based on what seem to me, in contrast, to be quite tight structures. Of course Haydn was faced with a real dilemma: how to evoke orchestral sounds from a newly invented keyboard instrument whose sound was unlike any previously possible from black and white keys played by two hands with the addition of foot or knee-controlled dampers.
It would have been accepted harpsichord technique to sustain some tones beyond their notated value in order to foster what little sympathetic vibration was possible with harpsichords.
Modern pianists are taught to obey the printed text as if it were the music; sustaining a note beyond its prescribed value is a no-no. But it all depends on the function of the note. Sometimes eighth notes have to function as quarters in disguise, sometimes as tied whole notes in disguise. At other times it is clear that they are eighths and must be released promptly. How do I know?
I pay a lot of attention when I listen whether to amateurs or professionals. Listening has taught me the power of the release and the corresponding power of the urge to sustain.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Do I Let On That It's My Favorite?
The question of secrecy in music is very important. Just think of the number of situations in which composers have found themselves unable to spell out exactly what they want to say in the manner in which they want to say it: in other words, having to be cryptic about it.
Who comes to mind?
What about the performer? How do we know about the performer's deepest identity when playing? It is a compelling question that I can best address from my work with children and with amateurs. If one plays so as to call attention to the parts one loves most everyone seems to "get it."
My dilemma of the moment is how to announce the repertoire for an upcoming recital that will include two of my all-time most beloved pieces. I want the listeners to know but if I tell them it will probably only distract them.
Who comes to mind?
- William Byrd, a crypto-Catholic during a time when that meant you ran the risk of the state cutting off your head, literally.
- Dmitri Shostakovich, an independent thinker stuck under Stalin's thumb
- Lutoslawski, setting Polish folk songs for school children in such a way that they would learn freedom from within
What about the performer? How do we know about the performer's deepest identity when playing? It is a compelling question that I can best address from my work with children and with amateurs. If one plays so as to call attention to the parts one loves most everyone seems to "get it."
My dilemma of the moment is how to announce the repertoire for an upcoming recital that will include two of my all-time most beloved pieces. I want the listeners to know but if I tell them it will probably only distract them.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Standout Moments with Other People's Children
"There are two kinds of children, your own and someone else's." I found this sentence in an essay on teaching that I wrote a while back, and which will soon appear in a new book of essays on various musical subjects (rather like this blog, in fact).
Every parent recalls particular moments in their own children's lives. But I find it stunning that specific moments stand out in my work with other people's children. I take this to be an indication that there is such a thing as in-depth communication even in a classroom encounter.
It is particularly special when the wonder gets expressed two ways.
Once on an M-104 bus riding uptown I received a tap on the shoulder. It was a young boy: "You play the piano in my class every week!" I do not recall his name and would undoubtedly not recognize him if I ran into him again but that tap on the shoulder stays with me. He is probably a musician of some sort.
Every parent recalls particular moments in their own children's lives. But I find it stunning that specific moments stand out in my work with other people's children. I take this to be an indication that there is such a thing as in-depth communication even in a classroom encounter.
It is particularly special when the wonder gets expressed two ways.
Once on an M-104 bus riding uptown I received a tap on the shoulder. It was a young boy: "You play the piano in my class every week!" I do not recall his name and would undoubtedly not recognize him if I ran into him again but that tap on the shoulder stays with me. He is probably a musician of some sort.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Elise is Not Therese
I once asked a group of 12-year-olds what they would do if they were going to hide the spelling of someone's name in a composition. "I certainly wouldn't put it at the beginning," declared one wise young man.
The principle sticking factor of Fuer Elise is the maddening repetition of the E - D# tones of the opening: How many times do they repeat? Why? And why are they specifically articulated in rising pairs on page 2 while they had clearly begun on the upper note at the beginning?
To begin with a spelling lesson: In German "Th" functions as a single letter, and E-flat is called "Ess."
So we get, on page 2, (Th) E / (r) E / Ess (enharmonically D#) / E, her name. Would she have noticed?
Have you noticed?
Doesn't it explain why so much of the piece has to be played softly?
At any rate, the young man was right: the name is not at the beginning.
The principle sticking factor of Fuer Elise is the maddening repetition of the E - D# tones of the opening: How many times do they repeat? Why? And why are they specifically articulated in rising pairs on page 2 while they had clearly begun on the upper note at the beginning?
To begin with a spelling lesson: In German "Th" functions as a single letter, and E-flat is called "Ess."
So we get, on page 2, (Th) E / (r) E / Ess (enharmonically D#) / E, her name. Would she have noticed?
Have you noticed?
Doesn't it explain why so much of the piece has to be played softly?
At any rate, the young man was right: the name is not at the beginning.
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