New year, new teacher

The other two lesson situations I ended up with this past year were so discouraging that I didn't know if I wanted to venture into another one, but I have gathered myself together and found a new teacher. I am hopeful that this is going to be good; the first few lessons have been extremely promising.

We are working on the exact thing I have been wanting to do, which is how to approach and release the key and how to coordinate all the elements (fingers, wrist, feet [pedaling]). To start, he showed me a few simple finger exercises, which I will try to describe here for the benefit of anyone who may be interested:

First exercise: play a C major scale with one finger (starting with the thumb and working through all fingers, one hand at a time), using the weight of the hand with the wrist as the point of motion. Play each note twice, without lifting the finger, and move to the next note again without lifting the finger. Feel the resistance of the key as it comes up.

Second exercise: play a three-note first inversion chord, starting with C-E-A and going up the scale, again keeping the fingers on the keys and using passive weight as much as possible, as with the first exercise. Do this with each hand separately.

Third exercise: starting on C, with each hand, using 1, 2, and 3, play a pattern of CDE, DEF, etc., to the top of the scale and then back down, as quickly and softly as possible, thinking about getting off of the key for the most clarity. Then play a four-note pattern (CDEF, DEFG, etc.), and then a five-note pattern (CDEFG, DEFGA, etc.).

Then, he asked me to practice the easier Chopin preludes (2, 4, 6, 20), attempting to apply what I'm learning with these exercises.

That's pretty much what we've covered so far, though I am also practicing some other things (Bach WTCII, C major; Chopin Nocture Op. 9 No. 1, etc.). After I've spent a half hour or so on the exercises and the preludes, I can feel a big difference when I play more difficult pieces. Everything feels springier, less tense, and more secure.

So we shall see!

"Something Almost Being Said"

There was a repeat broadcast (originally aired in December 2011) today of "The Diane Rehm Show" on which Diane interviewed Simone Dinnerstein.  Her latest CD is titled "Something Almost Being Said: The Music of Bach and Schubert." There's so much fascinating stuff in the interview that I wanted to share a link here:

Something Almost Being Said - transcript

Audio and other goodies

Enjoy!

This wasn't supposed to be quite this hard

Last August, I decided to learn Debussy's First and Second Arabesques. The First Arabesque is a favorite for the developing student; you can go on YouTube and watch eleventy-million videos by pianists of all ages and stages. The Second Arabesque is less well known and more difficult, though still a foundational sort of piece.

I basically thought, "How hard could this be?"

The answer, as always: "Much harder than you think." Getting every note crystal clear, with the right mood and rhythm and articulation, turned out to be a finicky sort of exercise. It reminded me of my first piano teacher talking about learning "The Little Shepherd" (from Children's Corner) when she was in college: She said it took her two months to play this two-page, slow piece to her teacher's satisfaction. "I could smell those stinkin' sheep" was how she put it.

So I have worked on these pieces steadily for the past four months, and I am still working on them. Barging through them is actually not so difficult, but when I listen to the playbacks of my attempts, if I'm being honest with myself, they leave much to be desired.

I thought, though, that I would post a progress version of the First Arabesque. The Second Arabesque is not even ready for late night, let alone prime time.

First Arabesque, in progress

Chipping away

 Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.

Michaelangelo

This thought occurred to me last night as I was continuing my struggle with "Pezzo Capriccioso." To the player, the notes on the page are the stone, and the performance is the statue. You learn the notes and try to shape them to express feelings that can't be put into words. Unlike stone, musical performance is fleeting and variable, which is both good and bad. But a satisfying performance does have a solidity of intention and inevitability. I think that's what we all strive to achieve.

Image: Detail of the hand of Michaelangelo's David

(from: http://entertainment.howstuffworks.com/arts/artwork/michelangelo-sculptures7.htm).

Not sure why I do this to myself

I have gotten myself into a situation. It began last spring, when for some unfathomable reason I volunteered to play a concerto with my chamber orchestra. Initially, the idea was to do something big. The Dvorak concerto was mentioned (not by me). The conductor asked me to send him some suggestions, which I did (and I was getting all excited about playing C. P. E. Bach -- I love those pieces though they are not traditionally showy; I also thought the orchestra would have a chance of sounding pretty good on one of them). Some time went by, and then I got an email asking if I could play Fauré's "Elegy."

As they say these days, meh. It's one of those stereotypical sad cello pieces that sounds like someone's funeral is either taking place or is imminent. It's also at the technical level of approximately junior high, but does not lie particularly well. It would take lots of work to get it to sound good, but it would never sound like I had put so much into it. I dreaded spending the better part of a year working on it. At first I thought, okay, not my favorite, but I'll be a pro, learn the piece, play it really well, et cetera. The only problem was that every time I sat down to work on it, it made me depressed.

So I approached the conductor at a rehearsal this fall and asked if he would be okay with another piece of the same length. The upshot was that he agreed to change from the "Elegy" to Tchaikovsky's "Pezzo Capriccioso." And now I must make sure that I am in shape to play all those spiccato 32nd notes and jump around in thumb position by this coming June.

My experience of these things is that it is not enough to practice only the piece; I need to work on other things that include the same technical challenges but are more difficult. So my plan of attack, at least to start, is Popper (Etude No. 6, and maybe some others) for bowing; Bach Prelude No. 6 for thumb position and intonation; and scales and arpeggios. We'll see how it goes.

Here is a video of "Pezzo" that I liked when I came across it on YouTube. Very clean and expressive.

"You and the Piano": A lesson with Seymour Bernstein

This was posted today on a forum I read:

A friend received this email from his old piano teacher, Seymour Bernstein an author (With Your Own Two Hands) and concert pianist living in NYC, aged 85 now and still going strong.

"Here it is, my video made in 1986 entitled YOU AND THE PIANO. , I believe that this video is one of the important accomplishments of my professional life. Having had a lot of distance from the time it was made, I now consider it to be a powerful educational tool for all pianists of any age and level of accomplishment; and even for other instrumentalists who often ponder what to tell their pianists concerning balance of sound.
Now I need your help. I want to establish a partnership with YouTube. But they won’t consider it unless there is measurable activity for my videos. A hit occurs when someone clicks onto the video file. So please, send these files to your friends. They need only open them up and that constitutes a hit.
Thanks so much for your help, and my warmest wishes to you.
Seymour "

I Thought you may be interested in his techniques etc.


Part 1: YOU AND THE PIANO
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXasoC4SdUc

Part 2: YOU AND THE PIANO
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_2q7U5A34Q

Part 3: YOU AND THE PIANO
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIFQUrhdT2k

Part 4: YOU AND THE PIANO
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lNYH8GQrdrc

These are wonderful videos. If you are at all interested in piano technique, please check them out. I have been meaning to get a hold of Mr. Bernstein's famous book mentioned in the note above, With Your Own Two Hands, and now I will really try to do so.

Interesting experience

"All right, Mr. DeMille . . ."

Almost two months ago, I was asked if I'd be interested in playing the piano for a two- to four-minute video to be posted online. My first thought was, "What's wrong with good old audio? Got plenty of those already." My next was, "Hmmm. A challenge. Why not? What's the worst that could happen?" So I agreed.

Next I had to decide what to play. First thought: "Better do something easy." Second thought: "This is a great opportunity to display my obsession with Bach -- and find out if I can do it under pressure." After some more consideration, I decided to stick with my most recently learned prelude and fugue set -- WTC I/18, in G sharp minor.

I thought I knew these pretty well, and of course I had already recorded and posted them here, but continuing to practice them for another six+ weeks was, as usual, enlightening. Every time I sat down at the piano, I would play them first, cold, from memory. I could play through both pieces with assurance as long as no one else was in the room. But I knew I did not know them as well as I should. For one thing, though I could look at a measure, put the book away, and play to the end of the piece, I could not do this from any place in the piece without taking that look first. But I kept chipping away, trying to get better at this. I also kept trying to play as slowly as possible, which is harder than one might think. Every place I stumbled or hesitated, I went over: Am I using the best fingering? What exactly is going on there?

The date for the taping grew closer; my performance jitters increased. The video aspect stepped this up many notches. I had to think about how I looked, raising all kinds of personal demons. I also didn't know what the piano would be like, or even what the people involved would be like.

The night before, my normally resilient stomach went into overdrive, and I sat up until 3 a.m. feeling like I was going to hurl. I finally crawled to bed and was able to go to sleep with my intestinal dignity intact.

After that low point, the experience itself turned out not to be so bad. The people were very nice and easy going, the piano was a lovely older Steinway in a calm setting, and I was able to play with some semblance of mastery. We did more than one take so we could get several angles, and by the fourth one I was even enjoying it. I think I did okay. But even if it turns out I didn't (the proof is in the playback), this was really an excellent thing for me to have done. It was a great lesson in how to put aside thoughts of inadequacy and just work with what I had at the moment to try to make music.

But it was so tiring!!!

So it's in the can (unless the camera wasn't actually on or something). I will post a link when it's available.