The trouble with muscle memory is that it presumes a disengaged mind. I just undertook the incredibly difficult task of relearning to articulate my toes - yes, toes, as a result of a physical condition that had gradually reduced their independence and my control over them. I had to retrain my muscle memory by literally holding onto some toes so that the others could tell that they had the power to move independently. Sounds bizarre, but it worked.
It struck me how similar that is to the way most people learn to play the piano. Put this finger here and that finger there and then everything will be reliably in place and you won't have to think about it.
Yow.
There are two things wrong with that approach:
It leaves out hearing altogether.
It leaves out all trace of variability as a good, even welcome thing.
Children who learn this way inevitably fall apart in recitals when they are playing on strange pianos: different touch, different acoustics, different everything.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Friday, May 17, 2013
A Fine Audience
Last night I had the privilege of performing Haydn and Bartok in my home for a wonderful audience of passionate listeners.
It was the recital on which I played my favorite Haydn Sonata. Before playing I informed them that of the three Haydn works one scared me, another was my favorite, and the third was completely untried and would receive its first performance that evening.
The release of being listened to so well made the whole experience participatory: I never played my favorite sonata better. The G minor (No. 44) went to the farthest extremes of despair before establishing a plausible equilibrium. The terrifying piece turned out to be humorous without inhibition. The first performance, new to all of us, exceeded any notion I had had of its potential.
There is much to be said for a close-up audience feeling its own presence, participating fully. It completely informs performance, in fact, it completes performance.
It was the recital on which I played my favorite Haydn Sonata. Before playing I informed them that of the three Haydn works one scared me, another was my favorite, and the third was completely untried and would receive its first performance that evening.
The release of being listened to so well made the whole experience participatory: I never played my favorite sonata better. The G minor (No. 44) went to the farthest extremes of despair before establishing a plausible equilibrium. The terrifying piece turned out to be humorous without inhibition. The first performance, new to all of us, exceeded any notion I had had of its potential.
There is much to be said for a close-up audience feeling its own presence, participating fully. It completely informs performance, in fact, it completes performance.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Malaysians! Indonesians! Brazilians! Introduce Yourselves
Today came another surprise: Indonesia, Malaysia. and Brazil topped even Russia in the distribution of readers of this blog. Welcome to all of you.
Now please tell me who you are:
Now please tell me who you are:
- what brings you to the blog
- what you get from reading it
- how it relates to your own musical activities
- what your musical activities are
Clementi C Major Sonatina
As previously noted in this blog I am teaching a young adult to read music: I have been teaching this improvisingly gifted young man since he was seven. Reading never came easily to him so I did not push it, sure that if I had he would stop study.
Now he is mature enough to go along with the complexity of the enterprise. After several months working on Clementi Preludes (which I highly recommend on many levels) we are tackling the sonatinas, beginning with the C Major, Op. 36, No. 1.
Yesterday we enjoyed together one of the most stimulating lessons I have ever taught: We read it together, one note at a time, imagining what the next tone would be and then coping with Clementi's agreement or disagreement with our better judgment. It was a lot of fun, and deeply insightful into the working of Clementi's superlative genius. (How unfortunate that Mozart said a nasty thing about him in a letter to his father!)
In the process I learned a great deal about the piece and about the limitations of approaching music as if the point of learning it was purely technical.
Now he is mature enough to go along with the complexity of the enterprise. After several months working on Clementi Preludes (which I highly recommend on many levels) we are tackling the sonatinas, beginning with the C Major, Op. 36, No. 1.
Yesterday we enjoyed together one of the most stimulating lessons I have ever taught: We read it together, one note at a time, imagining what the next tone would be and then coping with Clementi's agreement or disagreement with our better judgment. It was a lot of fun, and deeply insightful into the working of Clementi's superlative genius. (How unfortunate that Mozart said a nasty thing about him in a letter to his father!)
In the process I learned a great deal about the piece and about the limitations of approaching music as if the point of learning it was purely technical.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Russia?
Okay. Today it happened. For the first time since I have been keeping this blog its readership in Russia has topped that in the United States.
I want to know who you are, you Russians who are reading this. And I want to know what you make of it.
The reason for my curiosity is my fascination with international and intercultural influence. Since the 1980s the influx of musicians from Eastern Europe (largely Russia) has had an impact on musical life in NYC in general, and on my professional life in particular.
Part of the result of that has been a clarification of my thinking on all kinds of musical subjects. But it is only since removing myself from the need to be diplomatic about my thinking that I am able to express my thoughts directly.
So I want to know what you make of my comments. Tell me what your musical involvement is, whether professional or not does not matter. Please let me know by posting comments on the blog. Thanks!
I want to know who you are, you Russians who are reading this. And I want to know what you make of it.
The reason for my curiosity is my fascination with international and intercultural influence. Since the 1980s the influx of musicians from Eastern Europe (largely Russia) has had an impact on musical life in NYC in general, and on my professional life in particular.
Part of the result of that has been a clarification of my thinking on all kinds of musical subjects. But it is only since removing myself from the need to be diplomatic about my thinking that I am able to express my thoughts directly.
So I want to know what you make of my comments. Tell me what your musical involvement is, whether professional or not does not matter. Please let me know by posting comments on the blog. Thanks!
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
One Tone at a Time
The trouble with learning about music is that learning often gets in the way of just listening, as if "just" listening was in some way not enough.
It is striking how difficult it can be to deal with a single tone: Does Haydn actually think I am capable of responding to a single pitch? Can we players make our audience savor the power of every tone to transform the moment?
It took me a while, I admit it; but now my favorite music is that in which everything seems to be engendered by the opening note, no matter how ordinary.
It is striking how difficult it can be to deal with a single tone: Does Haydn actually think I am capable of responding to a single pitch? Can we players make our audience savor the power of every tone to transform the moment?
It took me a while, I admit it; but now my favorite music is that in which everything seems to be engendered by the opening note, no matter how ordinary.
Monday, May 13, 2013
G minor: Another Manifestation
When I was in high school I was assigned the Saint-Saens G minor Piano Concerto, the first movement of which I played with the school orchestra. I recall it being a most unsatisfying experience. Last night I heard a graduate student perform the same movement with an orchestra in town and I understood why.
In this piece Saint-Saens (quite pretentiously, it now seems clear) sets out to make thematic the very tones that do not work on the piano: B-flat - F#. The theme, very clearly stated in the piano includes the sequence: B-flat / A / B-flat / F#. It simply does not sound or feel good.
This piece is quite standard repertoire. What a pity that we allow virtuosity to hoodwink us into thinking that what we are listening to has meaning.
Saint-Saens was a highly sophisticated composer but I have long suspected that he had various agendas that had little to do with actual sound. One of them was his finishing the project Debussy did not live to complete: writing sonatas for unusual instrument combinations.
He did write some wonderful piano etudes for the left hand alone.
In this piece Saint-Saens (quite pretentiously, it now seems clear) sets out to make thematic the very tones that do not work on the piano: B-flat - F#. The theme, very clearly stated in the piano includes the sequence: B-flat / A / B-flat / F#. It simply does not sound or feel good.
This piece is quite standard repertoire. What a pity that we allow virtuosity to hoodwink us into thinking that what we are listening to has meaning.
Saint-Saens was a highly sophisticated composer but I have long suspected that he had various agendas that had little to do with actual sound. One of them was his finishing the project Debussy did not live to complete: writing sonatas for unusual instrument combinations.
He did write some wonderful piano etudes for the left hand alone.
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