Recently I saw a book in which two researchers had made spectographs of every sound in various compositions ranging from full orchestra to solo cello. The interesting thing in these scientifically produced pictures is that they reveal a frequency range that tests the limits of human hearing.
I learned about overtones from having spent many years accompanying singers. Every day in the life of a singer releases a new mixture of overtones; the voice is alive and constantly changing as if daring the pianist to adapt to these shifting timbres. Listening for pitch is far from simple.
Too many pianists play as if overtones did not matter. Rubinstein, the master of overtones, could build a crescendo that felt like infinitely increasing intensity because he knew how to manipulate resonance.
For me the basis of a solid piano technique is touch sensitive enough to touch overtones without turning them into real tones. This requires strength, agility, infinite adaptability, and total familiarity with the instrument one is playing. The result is tone that sings the way singers sing, i.e., with the variability intrinsic to a living creature.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Music Inside and Out
Get the Music Inside to Match the Music Outside
Let your inner ear converse with the music you love
No matter how difficult, no matter
how easy,
music engages your innate sense of
musical logic
Playing a sonata need not be like climbing a mountain
“Mistakes”
can put you in touch with the composer
Technical
difficulties can become fascinating
You can learn to trust your own musical sense despite years
of obedient instruction.
Having worked since 1975 on validating the vital inner life
of hearing of pianists, chamber musicians, and singers, Nancy Garniez is offering
private instruction to musicians of all instruments, all levels, all ages.
Whether or not you have time to practice,
whether your skills are advanced or
elementary,
this approach can transform your
playing and your listening.
I am located in NYC. Get in touch if this speaks to you.
Marshall McLuhan and Me
After playing last night to an audience of significant ears -- i.e., ideally engaged listeners -- I found myself referring to McLuhan's observation that all new media should go straight into the hands of children.
This morning I awoke realizing that that is exactly what happened between the piano and me: I enjoyed a period of immersion in the instrument before ever seeing anyone play the piano or having any idea of what the piano was supposed to be, in other words, no model, no preconception, no instruction.
The sense of wonderment at its fascinating sound has never left me. It may account for the various twists and turns of my musical and personal quest for mastery of this extraordinary phenomenon.
Trouble is that because the Industrial Revolution came after the invention of the piano, it did not go into ordinary households until its splendid fantasy-rich sound had been tamed by piano teachers armed with finger studies.
Think about it. Then move your piano into your child's room, where it belongs.
This morning I awoke realizing that that is exactly what happened between the piano and me: I enjoyed a period of immersion in the instrument before ever seeing anyone play the piano or having any idea of what the piano was supposed to be, in other words, no model, no preconception, no instruction.
The sense of wonderment at its fascinating sound has never left me. It may account for the various twists and turns of my musical and personal quest for mastery of this extraordinary phenomenon.
Trouble is that because the Industrial Revolution came after the invention of the piano, it did not go into ordinary households until its splendid fantasy-rich sound had been tamed by piano teachers armed with finger studies.
Think about it. Then move your piano into your child's room, where it belongs.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Why Did I Come Back to the Piano?
The father of one of my long-term students asked me that yesterday when I described my youthful frustration with the instrument, which led me to quit when I was fifteen.
I would never have told anyone that all I really wanted to achieve was mastery of the piano. If someone hadn't spotted and identified the particular aspect of my hearing that gave it away I would probably still be languishing among the many drop outs whose musical lives are stuck in an "if only."
The sound of the piano is as fascinating to me as the sound of a cappella singing, but in a totally different way. Perhaps because I hold them both so dear I can cross the line from one to the other, though after resuming intensive piano playing I became unable to tune the harpsichord as I liked it in some version of mean-tone tuning--i.e., more like vocal tuning than equal temperament can be.
I would never have told anyone that all I really wanted to achieve was mastery of the piano. If someone hadn't spotted and identified the particular aspect of my hearing that gave it away I would probably still be languishing among the many drop outs whose musical lives are stuck in an "if only."
The sound of the piano is as fascinating to me as the sound of a cappella singing, but in a totally different way. Perhaps because I hold them both so dear I can cross the line from one to the other, though after resuming intensive piano playing I became unable to tune the harpsichord as I liked it in some version of mean-tone tuning--i.e., more like vocal tuning than equal temperament can be.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Nurturing the Private Ear
It has often occurred to me that, with the invention of the piano, composers began writing music that would literally instruct us as to the nature of our hearing.
Increasingly, as I work from the sounds that are most real to the student's inner ear, I believe this to be true.
I behold it happen: the most "ordinary" sounds become complicated by virtue of some unexpected trick -- a sustained pitch, an accidental, a doubling -- and the sight-reader is plunged into a state of curiosity. Could Beethoven really have meant for me to play that?
Why does this require a teacher? Because most students have been listened to by teachers who feel it their duty to find fault. In so doing they undermine the student's confidence in the innate sense of their own ear. It requires an experienced ear to identify the sense of the errors and build the student's trust in the ear as a source of activity, not as a passive organ.
Increasingly, as I work from the sounds that are most real to the student's inner ear, I believe this to be true.
I behold it happen: the most "ordinary" sounds become complicated by virtue of some unexpected trick -- a sustained pitch, an accidental, a doubling -- and the sight-reader is plunged into a state of curiosity. Could Beethoven really have meant for me to play that?
Why does this require a teacher? Because most students have been listened to by teachers who feel it their duty to find fault. In so doing they undermine the student's confidence in the innate sense of their own ear. It requires an experienced ear to identify the sense of the errors and build the student's trust in the ear as a source of activity, not as a passive organ.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Happy New Year on the M104
It was one of those rare days when an animated conversation got started on a NYC bus, sparked by a friendly New Year's greeting from a woman with a warmly outgoing face. Pretty soon quite a few people were involved. The subject? Sight-singing.
Unbelievable, I thought to myself. Is this a sign or what? One of the subjects I care most about in the world, brought up and discussed openly by total strangers.
All I can think is that if that is a sign of priorities for the year we are off to a very good start.
Unbelievable, I thought to myself. Is this a sign or what? One of the subjects I care most about in the world, brought up and discussed openly by total strangers.
All I can think is that if that is a sign of priorities for the year we are off to a very good start.
Compliments
We had a reunion this afternoon: students past and present together with their parents. Those who felt like doing so played.
As usual their playing was deeply revelatory though, from music school standards, far from polished.
But the room was all attentiveness, as if everyone was listening to discern meaning in every sound.
Then, for the first time since I have begun teaching from the ear out (the student's ear, that is), I played for them the most intimate piano piece I know, not really intending to play the entire work. But they were so rapt that I couldn't stop; I played the whole thing.
Then came the real compliment. The young woman whose playing does not come easily to her, and who hadn't even seen a piano in the past two weeks, played her two Bartok pieces. I was deeply moved that, rather than making her in any way self-conscious, my playing made her feel like playing.
That is about as deep a compliment as I can imagine.
Thanks to all my students, past and present, and to the parents who have stayed the route of unorthodox methods that produce lasting love of the piano and of its music.
As usual their playing was deeply revelatory though, from music school standards, far from polished.
But the room was all attentiveness, as if everyone was listening to discern meaning in every sound.
Then, for the first time since I have begun teaching from the ear out (the student's ear, that is), I played for them the most intimate piano piece I know, not really intending to play the entire work. But they were so rapt that I couldn't stop; I played the whole thing.
Then came the real compliment. The young woman whose playing does not come easily to her, and who hadn't even seen a piano in the past two weeks, played her two Bartok pieces. I was deeply moved that, rather than making her in any way self-conscious, my playing made her feel like playing.
That is about as deep a compliment as I can imagine.
Thanks to all my students, past and present, and to the parents who have stayed the route of unorthodox methods that produce lasting love of the piano and of its music.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)