Saturday, May 9, 2009

So much music has been inspired by technology!

Where to start? Sewing machines, railroad trains, hurdy-gurdies, music boxes...the list goes on and on. A young person today finds a piece of music boring. Could it be that it's boring on purpose? What if it's imitating a quintessentially boring gizmo--like a spinning wheel? Isn't it amazing how quickly such devices become ancient history!

Can you tell the difference between a player imitating a machine and a player who has become one?

Friday, May 8, 2009

Look at No. 1 in Schumann's Album for the Young--be sure it's the Henle edition. Is there anything you don't understand?

"What is that hairpin in measure 5?"

It means you should listen for what happens to the quarter note when the left hand's eighth notes move within it. It means that in all probability you played the first four bars too fast to notice that all those off-beat eighth notes actually make a difference in the sound of the melody. In fact, it may be the reason why Schumann has not given a tempo indication for this piece: the hairpin is the indication.

Do you know of other markings that show what to listen for rather than what to do?

Thursday, May 7, 2009

According to my scientist student, basic training for a scientist is scientific method. What is basic training for a piano student?

According to much pedagogical practice it is keeping a steady beat.

But if this were really so I and many others would have had to quit before we started. Keeping a beat is not so hard until it gets mixed with the piano sound. At that point either you turn off your ear and keep that beat come what may or you remain fascinated by the magical blend of in (the beat) and out of (the vibrations) control.

In a supermarket checkout line many years ago I overheard a conversation. A father unloading a well-filled cart offered his four-year-old son the choice of two candies. As the transaction neared completion the father asked for the verdict. The child asked "Which one lasts longer?"

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Remember the repeated note from my April 29 post?

No one has yet identified the answer to this musical riddle, though yesterday Charles Ives furnished a clue via an automobile horn. According to Ives one should leave the window open when practicing so as to integrate into the music all ambient sounds. There it was, a clear toot on the right note: G.

I heard it; the child heard it. Now we both know exactly how the note should sound--like a pesky car horn.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

You might wonder whether touch so sensitive as what I have been describing is accessible only to great artists like Rubinstein.

I could tell when I heard a nine-year-old play that the sound she loved best was the B-major triad. I hear in the touch of another child that the action on her piano at home is much stiffer than mine. Last week an older woman's touch revealed that her piano at home sounded better than it had in months.

Could it be that this intimacy is what we all crave?

Is it possible that Killer Scales drill it out of our ears and fingers?

Monday, May 4, 2009

Touch continues to amaze me. It is so communicative. I can tell by the way a student touches my piano that their piano at home needs tuning. When the at-home instrument is sounding at its best I can hear that, too.

It is a living demonstration of what Rubinstein once reportedly said, to the effect that pianists don't touch the keys; they touch the vibrations they hear in their heads.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Wouldn't you know it! I missed a crucial point in yesterday's post: What really made it fun was that I wasn't the one who heard the A-flat. It was one of the young people.