THREE TAKES ON THE INVENTIONS
I've now listened to my three recordings of the inventions a few times and I'm ready to say a few words about them. The three recordings are by Glenn Gould, Angela Hewitt, and Andras Schiff, and they could hardly be more different from each other in their musical styles.
Gould's renditions are skeletal. He reveals the bare bones of the structure of each invention, shines a bright light across the counterpoint that throws it into sharp black-and-white relief, displays little interest in sensuality. His playing is elemental, inevitable, compelling. It is also sometimes a little tiring to listen to. I like it in moderate doses.
Hewitt's renditions are zesty. She plays with bright energy, and doesn't shy away from big dynamic contrasts. She carries me along engagingly, and provides occasional surprises that make me smile. She does sometimes have a tendency to play with too much one-sided emphasis on the right hand, making the music a little more like a melody with an accompaniment and a little less contrapuntal. But that's a minor quibble about some very enjoyable performances.
Schiff's renditions are sumptuous. He plays with a lot of texture, with more rubato than the others, with more florid ornamentation, with richness. All in all, his playing is the most romantic, and in this he is at the opposite pole from Gould. His playing radiates warmth.
So which is my favorite? I was afraid you'd ask that. Having heard them all, I wouldn't want to do without any of them. They all illuminate these kaleidoscopic works in their own way. I know I'll listen to different ones at different times depending on my mood.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Sunday, March 11, 2012
TIME TO FACE THE MUSIC
Even though I've had the recordings of the Bach Two Part Inventions for 10 days now, I haven't yet listened to them. However, I'll have some leisure over the next couple of days, and I'll listen to them then. Of course, I could easily have made the time to listen to them before now. I've just been putting it off so I can continue to be in denial about the quality of my own renditions for a little bit longer.
My intent is to listen only to the nine Inventions that I've learned so far. As for the other six, I want to approach them with a fresh ear and see what I can make of them on my own before I listen to what others do with them.
Even though I've had the recordings of the Bach Two Part Inventions for 10 days now, I haven't yet listened to them. However, I'll have some leisure over the next couple of days, and I'll listen to them then. Of course, I could easily have made the time to listen to them before now. I've just been putting it off so I can continue to be in denial about the quality of my own renditions for a little bit longer.
My intent is to listen only to the nine Inventions that I've learned so far. As for the other six, I want to approach them with a fresh ear and see what I can make of them on my own before I listen to what others do with them.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
BREAK OUT THE CHAMPAGNE
I reached a milestone this morning when I got all the technical aspects of Invention #9 working smoothly at my target tempo.
It's not done yet, though. I'm still refining the musical aspects of it. In this piece, phrasing is everything. The left and right hands are singing the same song but starting at different times. It's like "Row Row Row Your Boat", but quite a bit more sophisticated. Each hand has to have its own independent expressive integrity, and also sing in harmony with the other hand. It won't be done until I have that working the way I want it.
Who am I kidding? A piece like this is never done. All I can do is get it to a point where I might think about playing it for someone. My understanding of it and my ability to play it will continue to evolve for as long as I continue to play the piece. It's fun to mark a milestone, though.
Here's to Johann! Here's to art! Clink!
I reached a milestone this morning when I got all the technical aspects of Invention #9 working smoothly at my target tempo.
It's not done yet, though. I'm still refining the musical aspects of it. In this piece, phrasing is everything. The left and right hands are singing the same song but starting at different times. It's like "Row Row Row Your Boat", but quite a bit more sophisticated. Each hand has to have its own independent expressive integrity, and also sing in harmony with the other hand. It won't be done until I have that working the way I want it.
Who am I kidding? A piece like this is never done. All I can do is get it to a point where I might think about playing it for someone. My understanding of it and my ability to play it will continue to evolve for as long as I continue to play the piece. It's fun to mark a milestone, though.
Here's to Johann! Here's to art! Clink!
Thursday, March 8, 2012
A MASTER PRACTICING
Glenn Gould is world famous among classical music lovers for his electrifying and often controversial interpretations of Bach. They're powerful, with crystal clear counterpoint and sometimes super-humanly fast tempos.
I was very sad when, barely 50 years old, he died suddenly in 1982 without finishing the recordings of the Beethoven piano sonatas he was working on at the time. In the same vivid way I remember the Kennedy assassination, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard of Gould's death.
Here's a video of Gould practicing. He stops, restarts, sings along loudly, goes back over certain passages, steps away from the keyboard and rehearses mentally, works with one hand alone, and so on. In the last third of this brief recording, he displays his stupefying power at the keyboard.
He's so young in this video that I cried the first time I saw it: for what might have been had he lived longer, and because I missed someone I never met who nevertheless felt like a friend.
Glenn Gould is world famous among classical music lovers for his electrifying and often controversial interpretations of Bach. They're powerful, with crystal clear counterpoint and sometimes super-humanly fast tempos.
I was very sad when, barely 50 years old, he died suddenly in 1982 without finishing the recordings of the Beethoven piano sonatas he was working on at the time. In the same vivid way I remember the Kennedy assassination, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard of Gould's death.
Here's a video of Gould practicing. He stops, restarts, sings along loudly, goes back over certain passages, steps away from the keyboard and rehearses mentally, works with one hand alone, and so on. In the last third of this brief recording, he displays his stupefying power at the keyboard.
He's so young in this video that I cried the first time I saw it: for what might have been had he lived longer, and because I missed someone I never met who nevertheless felt like a friend.
 | |
| Glenn Gould in his youth |
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
YOUR ASSISTANCE PLEASE
I've started learning Invention #10. It's going to be challenging but fun. It's a rollicking jig, or gigue, as they tend to spell it for music from Bach's time and place.
My plan is to learn the left hand part alone before learning the right hand part, as my composer/pianist friend Kathleen Ryan recommends. In many pieces of music, the left hand alone isn't much to listen to, but in this piece, as well as in many others by Bach, the left hand part is interesting and entertaining all by itself.
I've never before learned the left hand part of a new piece to completion before beginning to learn the right hand part. I want to have the experience and see how it works out for me. It'll take some discipline on my part not to yield to the temptation to put it all together prematurely, so I'm going to lean on you for help.
My pledge to you, dear readers, is that, before I start work on the right hand part, I will practice the left hand part alone until I can play it fluidly at my target tempo.
I will submit to your disapprobation if I break my pledge. Of course, I'll be sure to tell you if I break it. I'm an honest blogger, as I'm sure all bloggers are
I've started learning Invention #10. It's going to be challenging but fun. It's a rollicking jig, or gigue, as they tend to spell it for music from Bach's time and place.
My plan is to learn the left hand part alone before learning the right hand part, as my composer/pianist friend Kathleen Ryan recommends. In many pieces of music, the left hand alone isn't much to listen to, but in this piece, as well as in many others by Bach, the left hand part is interesting and entertaining all by itself.
I've never before learned the left hand part of a new piece to completion before beginning to learn the right hand part. I want to have the experience and see how it works out for me. It'll take some discipline on my part not to yield to the temptation to put it all together prematurely, so I'm going to lean on you for help.
My pledge to you, dear readers, is that, before I start work on the right hand part, I will practice the left hand part alone until I can play it fluidly at my target tempo.
I will submit to your disapprobation if I break my pledge. Of course, I'll be sure to tell you if I break it. I'm an honest blogger, as I'm sure all bloggers are
Sunday, March 4, 2012
FEEDING THE DOG
I was in a lousy mood this morning, no doubt about it. I didn't feel like doing much of anything at all, let alone anything as focused and organized as practicing.
But, I sat down and played anyway. I had a day off recently, and it was too soon to take another day off. Taking a day off here and there is a good thing, but starting to take too many days off is a slippery slope that leads to deconditioning, discouragement, and giving up practicing. I've only recently clawed my way back up that slope. I'm determined not to let myself slide back down it any time soon.
My hands don't care what kind of mood I'm in. They need their exercise regularly. It's like having a dog that needs to be fed no matter what. You can't say, "Sorry, Fido. You'll just have to go hungry. I don't feel like getting your food for you."
So on a day like this, I sit down at the keyboard whether I feel like it or not. My hands need me. I may not hurl myself against my most difficult challenges, though. Instead, I may turn to the comfort food of piano practice: old familiar pieces that come easily. If I start with those, I often find my mood improving, and then I become eager to tackle a challenge.
That didn't work today, though. Grrrr.
I was in a lousy mood this morning, no doubt about it. I didn't feel like doing much of anything at all, let alone anything as focused and organized as practicing.
But, I sat down and played anyway. I had a day off recently, and it was too soon to take another day off. Taking a day off here and there is a good thing, but starting to take too many days off is a slippery slope that leads to deconditioning, discouragement, and giving up practicing. I've only recently clawed my way back up that slope. I'm determined not to let myself slide back down it any time soon.
My hands don't care what kind of mood I'm in. They need their exercise regularly. It's like having a dog that needs to be fed no matter what. You can't say, "Sorry, Fido. You'll just have to go hungry. I don't feel like getting your food for you."
So on a day like this, I sit down at the keyboard whether I feel like it or not. My hands need me. I may not hurl myself against my most difficult challenges, though. Instead, I may turn to the comfort food of piano practice: old familiar pieces that come easily. If I start with those, I often find my mood improving, and then I become eager to tackle a challenge.
That didn't work today, though. Grrrr.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
RESCALING
Well, I've finally gotten around to something I'd been putting off: exploring my new book of scales and arpeggios.
I've started practicing some of the easier scales in 3rds, 6ths, and 10ths instead of just octaves. And I've started playing the easier arpeggios in different inversions. I'll work up to the harder ones over time.These are supposed to be good for the foundations of my technique. At the least, they're fun to play and a great warm-up.
Well, I've finally gotten around to something I'd been putting off: exploring my new book of scales and arpeggios.
I've started practicing some of the easier scales in 3rds, 6ths, and 10ths instead of just octaves. And I've started playing the easier arpeggios in different inversions. I'll work up to the harder ones over time.These are supposed to be good for the foundations of my technique. At the least, they're fun to play and a great warm-up.
THE PAUSE THAT REFRESHES
After a day off, I found that my left hand could play a tricky trill in Invention #7 a little better than before. I had been practicing that trill on a daily basis before the break. I think there's some kind of consolidation that goes on in the nervous system during a break. Of course, if the break is too long, what got consolidated at the start of the break has faded by the end of it. Better not to be away from the keyboard for more than a day or so.
After a day off, I found that my left hand could play a tricky trill in Invention #7 a little better than before. I had been practicing that trill on a daily basis before the break. I think there's some kind of consolidation that goes on in the nervous system during a break. Of course, if the break is too long, what got consolidated at the start of the break has faded by the end of it. Better not to be away from the keyboard for more than a day or so.
Friday, March 2, 2012
I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT
Well, my canned teachers (see previous post) arrived yesterday. I've unwrapped the CDs, but I haven't listened to them yet. Truth is, I'm afraid to. I know it'll be devastating to my morale. I'm going to hear three stellar pianists take pieces that I've been struggling with for weeks and months and make them sound both beautiful and easy. I'm going to think, "I can't do this. Why bother? I wonder what's on TV."
This is a phenomenon we all have to face. One of my close friends, a writer, has observed how tough writing is for him given the existence of Shakespeare. Even the great composer Johannes Brahms remarked how difficult it was for him to write a symphony "with him looking over my shoulder", and by "him" he meant Beethoven. Unless you're Bach or Shakespeare or Michelangelo -- or delusional -- there's always someone who can do whatever you're doing far better than you can. In my case, it's not just someone, it's countless thousands of someones. Sigh.
I have to step back and remind myself that, in contradiction to occasional flights of fancy, I'm not doing this to become an excellent pianist. Are you surprised to hear that, dear reader? I'm doing this for self development, and for the sheer joy of the music itself. I can fully reap those rewards only if I get out there and give it my all.
I think I'll take a day off from the keyboard today.
Well, my canned teachers (see previous post) arrived yesterday. I've unwrapped the CDs, but I haven't listened to them yet. Truth is, I'm afraid to. I know it'll be devastating to my morale. I'm going to hear three stellar pianists take pieces that I've been struggling with for weeks and months and make them sound both beautiful and easy. I'm going to think, "I can't do this. Why bother? I wonder what's on TV."
This is a phenomenon we all have to face. One of my close friends, a writer, has observed how tough writing is for him given the existence of Shakespeare. Even the great composer Johannes Brahms remarked how difficult it was for him to write a symphony "with him looking over my shoulder", and by "him" he meant Beethoven. Unless you're Bach or Shakespeare or Michelangelo -- or delusional -- there's always someone who can do whatever you're doing far better than you can. In my case, it's not just someone, it's countless thousands of someones. Sigh.
I have to step back and remind myself that, in contradiction to occasional flights of fancy, I'm not doing this to become an excellent pianist. Are you surprised to hear that, dear reader? I'm doing this for self development, and for the sheer joy of the music itself. I can fully reap those rewards only if I get out there and give it my all.
I think I'll take a day off from the keyboard today.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
TEACHERS IN A CAN
I suppose it's inevitable that, when I'm learning a series of 15 pieces like the Bach Two Part Inventions, there will be a few that I don't like as well as the others. Of the first 10, numbers 2 and 5 are the black sheep for me. The fact is that I can play their notes, but I just don't quite know what to do with them musically.
Let's assume for the moment that the lack of musical imagination in this instance is mine and not that of one of the towering musical geniuses in western civilization. What to do? Well, since I don't have a fresh teacher to guide me*, why not open a can of teacher?
I've ordered three recordings of the Inventions from Amazon.com: one by Glenn Gould, one by Angela Hewitt, and one by András Schiff. I expect my canned teachers will arrive soon, maybe today or tomorrow.
My hope is that these three very different views of the inventions will stimulate my musical imagination, and will inspire me not only to find the music in the Inventions I don't yet grok but also to find new perspectives on my favorites.
[A big shout out to my good friend Barney for his guidance on which recordings to get.]
*Having a teacher is a whole topic in itself which I intend to address one of these days.
I suppose it's inevitable that, when I'm learning a series of 15 pieces like the Bach Two Part Inventions, there will be a few that I don't like as well as the others. Of the first 10, numbers 2 and 5 are the black sheep for me. The fact is that I can play their notes, but I just don't quite know what to do with them musically.
Let's assume for the moment that the lack of musical imagination in this instance is mine and not that of one of the towering musical geniuses in western civilization. What to do? Well, since I don't have a fresh teacher to guide me*, why not open a can of teacher?
I've ordered three recordings of the Inventions from Amazon.com: one by Glenn Gould, one by Angela Hewitt, and one by András Schiff. I expect my canned teachers will arrive soon, maybe today or tomorrow.
My hope is that these three very different views of the inventions will stimulate my musical imagination, and will inspire me not only to find the music in the Inventions I don't yet grok but also to find new perspectives on my favorites.
[A big shout out to my good friend Barney for his guidance on which recordings to get.]
*Having a teacher is a whole topic in itself which I intend to address one of these days.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
MY DREAM
I love the Bach Inventions that I'm learning, and they're great for helping me to re-establish my skills after too many years of not practicing regularly, but they're small, fingery pieces. My hands generally stay close to the keys and move deliberately from one position to the next.
Yes, they're beautiful, and yes, they're good for me, but I dream of playing the big pieces again, pieces free from the constraints of 18th century harpsichord-rooted keyboard style, virtuosic pieces where my hands dance and fly over the keys. I dream of feeling like a real pianist.
Decades ago, when I was too young to know they were completely over my head, I learned a couple of Rachmaninoff preludes. Big chunks of them are still in my muscle memory. One of these days when I work up to it and I'm feeling really fit at the keyboard, I'm going to return to those Rachmaninoff preludes of my youth and see what I can do with them in my maturity.
I don't know how far I'll get, but I know that however far that turns out to be, I won't regret giving it my best shot. Better that than not trying.
I love the Bach Inventions that I'm learning, and they're great for helping me to re-establish my skills after too many years of not practicing regularly, but they're small, fingery pieces. My hands generally stay close to the keys and move deliberately from one position to the next.
Yes, they're beautiful, and yes, they're good for me, but I dream of playing the big pieces again, pieces free from the constraints of 18th century harpsichord-rooted keyboard style, virtuosic pieces where my hands dance and fly over the keys. I dream of feeling like a real pianist.
Decades ago, when I was too young to know they were completely over my head, I learned a couple of Rachmaninoff preludes. Big chunks of them are still in my muscle memory. One of these days when I work up to it and I'm feeling really fit at the keyboard, I'm going to return to those Rachmaninoff preludes of my youth and see what I can do with them in my maturity.
I don't know how far I'll get, but I know that however far that turns out to be, I won't regret giving it my best shot. Better that than not trying.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
WHERE AM I?
I've set out to learn all 15 of Bach's Two Part Inventions. So far I've learned the notes for 9 of them, but different ones are in different conditions. It's time to take stock of where I am.
Numbers 2 and 5 have fallen into neglect like abandoned buildings. They're not my favorites, and I haven't been maintaining them. I really should repair them before they collapse.
Numbers 1, 4, 6, and 8 are in pretty good shape. I'm making music with them and refining the way I play them. Number 3 isn't far behind that group.
Numbers 7 and 9 are nearly where I want them as far as learning the notes goes, and I'm about ready to begin seriously honing and refining their musical aspects.
The bottom line: 7 coming along well, 2 in serious need of repair.
I think I'll begin learning number 10 soon. I feel the siren song of new territory. Maybe tomorrow. It's going to be a challenging one. Maybe I'll begin working on some of the tough spots in the background while I review numbers 2 and 5.
I've set out to learn all 15 of Bach's Two Part Inventions. So far I've learned the notes for 9 of them, but different ones are in different conditions. It's time to take stock of where I am.
Numbers 2 and 5 have fallen into neglect like abandoned buildings. They're not my favorites, and I haven't been maintaining them. I really should repair them before they collapse.
Numbers 1, 4, 6, and 8 are in pretty good shape. I'm making music with them and refining the way I play them. Number 3 isn't far behind that group.
Numbers 7 and 9 are nearly where I want them as far as learning the notes goes, and I'm about ready to begin seriously honing and refining their musical aspects.
The bottom line: 7 coming along well, 2 in serious need of repair.
I think I'll begin learning number 10 soon. I feel the siren song of new territory. Maybe tomorrow. It's going to be a challenging one. Maybe I'll begin working on some of the tough spots in the background while I review numbers 2 and 5.
Monday, February 27, 2012
NEW DIMENSION
Today I downloaded Finale Notebook, free software for creating music scores and printing them out.
I used it to write down a little composition I made for my music students. I called the composition "Invention 1.0". It's written more-or-less in the style of the Bach Two Part Inventions that I've been practicing so diligently for the last two months, but it's highly simplified so as to be accessible to a beginner at the keyboard.
So much of the music for early beginners isn't very interesting. I tried to write something that had some musical structure and interest even though it uses only the five notes of the basic hand position, plus a leading tone at the end to wrap it up with a good satisfying cadence.
I tried it out on a student today and it went very well. He seemed to like it, and it was at the right level for him -- a little bit challenging, but well within reach given some practice. I used it as an opportunity to help him get well grounded in the steps for learning a new piece, which I think I discussed in an earlier post.
I'm really excited to be composing again, even if it's only 16 bars of very simple counterpoint. I look forward to writing more things for my students.
Hmm... Now that I think about it, I got so excited that I never got around to trying out that new book of scales and arpeggios I just got. Tomorrow.
Today I downloaded Finale Notebook, free software for creating music scores and printing them out.
I used it to write down a little composition I made for my music students. I called the composition "Invention 1.0". It's written more-or-less in the style of the Bach Two Part Inventions that I've been practicing so diligently for the last two months, but it's highly simplified so as to be accessible to a beginner at the keyboard.
So much of the music for early beginners isn't very interesting. I tried to write something that had some musical structure and interest even though it uses only the five notes of the basic hand position, plus a leading tone at the end to wrap it up with a good satisfying cadence.
I tried it out on a student today and it went very well. He seemed to like it, and it was at the right level for him -- a little bit challenging, but well within reach given some practice. I used it as an opportunity to help him get well grounded in the steps for learning a new piece, which I think I discussed in an earlier post.
I'm really excited to be composing again, even if it's only 16 bars of very simple counterpoint. I look forward to writing more things for my students.
Hmm... Now that I think about it, I got so excited that I never got around to trying out that new book of scales and arpeggios I just got. Tomorrow.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
SCALING THE HEIGHTS
I typically begin at least my first practice session of the day by playing some scales and arpeggios. It gets all of my fingers moving and warming up, helps me with the eternal quest, which all pianists face, to play evenly with fingers that are all different lengths and strengths, and eases me into the session mentally with something familiar.
But I realized the other day that I have a number of significant gaps in my practice of scales. I only recently began playing them in contrary motion after making my piano students play them in both parallel and contrary motion. I don't play the minor keys. I play with the hands only an octave or two octaves apart and never in 3rds or 6ths apart. And so on.
Well, it's time to get serious about scales, isn't it? I ordered a complete book of scales, arpeggios, and cadences in all the keys, and it arrived yesterday. I'm going to get right on it!
Tomorrow.
I typically begin at least my first practice session of the day by playing some scales and arpeggios. It gets all of my fingers moving and warming up, helps me with the eternal quest, which all pianists face, to play evenly with fingers that are all different lengths and strengths, and eases me into the session mentally with something familiar.
But I realized the other day that I have a number of significant gaps in my practice of scales. I only recently began playing them in contrary motion after making my piano students play them in both parallel and contrary motion. I don't play the minor keys. I play with the hands only an octave or two octaves apart and never in 3rds or 6ths apart. And so on.
Well, it's time to get serious about scales, isn't it? I ordered a complete book of scales, arpeggios, and cadences in all the keys, and it arrived yesterday. I'm going to get right on it!
Tomorrow.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
AN EMERGENCY
If you've been following this blog, you know I've been working on a challenging left hand trill in Bach's Two Part Invention #7. I practice it a little bit every day. I'm living with it, making it part of my life, part of my body.
This morning I realized that, at some point, I slipped past a threshold with it. It no longer feels like an emergency when I play it. It no longer saps every particle of my awareness just to be able to get through it physically. I'm relaxing into it more and more as it becomes a routine that's solidly in my physiology. I'm able to turn the passage it into music now, maybe shape the little melody going on in the right hand, or grow the trill louder or softer.
It makes me think of a lot of the difficult passages in things I've played over the years. Many have felt like an emergency to me. They take so much attention to play that I don't have any awareness left over to turn them into music.
The only answer, the always answer: more practice.
If you've been following this blog, you know I've been working on a challenging left hand trill in Bach's Two Part Invention #7. I practice it a little bit every day. I'm living with it, making it part of my life, part of my body.
This morning I realized that, at some point, I slipped past a threshold with it. It no longer feels like an emergency when I play it. It no longer saps every particle of my awareness just to be able to get through it physically. I'm relaxing into it more and more as it becomes a routine that's solidly in my physiology. I'm able to turn the passage it into music now, maybe shape the little melody going on in the right hand, or grow the trill louder or softer.
It makes me think of a lot of the difficult passages in things I've played over the years. Many have felt like an emergency to me. They take so much attention to play that I don't have any awareness left over to turn them into music.
The only answer, the always answer: more practice.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
THERE'S RETENTION AND THERE'S RETENTION
Today, I went back and reviewed Bach's Two Part Invention #2. It's been weeks since I revisited it. Truth be told, it's not my favorite and I've been neglecting it.
I was dismayed to discover the extent to which I had forgotten it. I was very rusty on the fingerings and on the details of how it goes. It'll take a bit of refurbishing to get it back up to the shape it was in when I last practiced it actively.
One thing that I didn't lose, however, was my facility in playing a little ornament with my left hand. I developed that facility while practicing #2, and it's just as crisp today as it was weeks ago. (See the entry "Brian Grows a Neuron", posted February 12, 2012, and covering an experience from January 11.)
This got me to pondering the difference between retaining the physical skill of playing the ornament, and retaining the memory of the details of the piece. Memory, as a cognitive skill, is more plastic, more brain-based. It comes and goes. But somehow the physical skill is more deeply ingrained in my body and, perhaps, in my peripheral nervous system.
Having once learned the piece, I know that it will be far easier for me to learn it again than it was for me to learn it the first time. Much of it is still in there, and I can re-build on that.
Well, that's it for blogging today. Gotta run. Now, what was it I was going to do next....
Today, I went back and reviewed Bach's Two Part Invention #2. It's been weeks since I revisited it. Truth be told, it's not my favorite and I've been neglecting it.
I was dismayed to discover the extent to which I had forgotten it. I was very rusty on the fingerings and on the details of how it goes. It'll take a bit of refurbishing to get it back up to the shape it was in when I last practiced it actively.
One thing that I didn't lose, however, was my facility in playing a little ornament with my left hand. I developed that facility while practicing #2, and it's just as crisp today as it was weeks ago. (See the entry "Brian Grows a Neuron", posted February 12, 2012, and covering an experience from January 11.)
This got me to pondering the difference between retaining the physical skill of playing the ornament, and retaining the memory of the details of the piece. Memory, as a cognitive skill, is more plastic, more brain-based. It comes and goes. But somehow the physical skill is more deeply ingrained in my body and, perhaps, in my peripheral nervous system.
Having once learned the piece, I know that it will be far easier for me to learn it again than it was for me to learn it the first time. Much of it is still in there, and I can re-build on that.
Well, that's it for blogging today. Gotta run. Now, what was it I was going to do next....
Sunday, February 19, 2012
PURE PLEASURE
I sat down at the piano "just for a few minutes" to do a "quick" run-through of Invention #9.
Before I knew it, more than an hour had gone past and I had played everything from Bach Inventions to a Chopin Nocturne to "Bridge Over Troubled Waters". I was lost in the pleasures of music.
I'm so happy that I decided to go back to practicing regularly. I can play again! Hooray!
I sat down at the piano "just for a few minutes" to do a "quick" run-through of Invention #9.
Before I knew it, more than an hour had gone past and I had played everything from Bach Inventions to a Chopin Nocturne to "Bridge Over Troubled Waters". I was lost in the pleasures of music.
I'm so happy that I decided to go back to practicing regularly. I can play again! Hooray!
SHAKING IT UP
Bach's Two Part Invention #9, which I'm currently learning, has lots of groups of 16th notes. This morning, I varied the rhythm during several run-throughs by making those into dotted rhythms. That is, for every two 16th notes, I'd play a dotted 16th note and a 32nd note. This was purely for the purpose of practice, of course. I wouldn't ordinarily play it that way, and I certainly would never perform it that way.
It changed the character of the piece from melancholy and flowing to robust and almost militant. I enjoyed experiencing an alternate expressive universe buried in there. It challenged my routine way of playing it, exposed a few spots where I wasn't completely on top of the fingering, and made me hear it afresh when I went back to playing it as written.
Bach's Two Part Invention #9, which I'm currently learning, has lots of groups of 16th notes. This morning, I varied the rhythm during several run-throughs by making those into dotted rhythms. That is, for every two 16th notes, I'd play a dotted 16th note and a 32nd note. This was purely for the purpose of practice, of course. I wouldn't ordinarily play it that way, and I certainly would never perform it that way.
It changed the character of the piece from melancholy and flowing to robust and almost militant. I enjoyed experiencing an alternate expressive universe buried in there. It challenged my routine way of playing it, exposed a few spots where I wasn't completely on top of the fingering, and made me hear it afresh when I went back to playing it as written.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
WHOLES AND PARTS
Yesterday, composer/pianist Kathleen Ryan ran across this blog (after I sent her a link to it) and did me the great favor of commenting on it. For example, see her comment and my reply to the post "Well, it's been nearly two weeks..." from 2/12/2012. I'm very pleased and grateful to have guidance from a trained professional musician like Kathleen.
One of Kathleen's recommendations is to practice the left hand alone until I have it down pat before practicing both hands together. Now, I'm generally a "play it as a whole" sort of guy. I enjoy hearing a piece as a whole, and I think it's a valuable way for me to get into the musical qualities of a piece. But I have a great deal of respect for Kathleen's skills at the keyboard, and I decided to try out her recommendation on Bach Two Part Invention #9, which I'm currently learning.
In this particular piece, I found it quite easy to learn the left hand part alone. Within 15 minutes, I was playing it smoothly and musically at full speed. (I had a tendency to sing along.) It turns out that Invention #9 just isn't that physically challenging for my left hand. So, I'm not sure how much I got out of this little exercise other than making the left hand fingerings more automatic, although that in itself is no small benefit. I can see, however, that learning the left hand alone to a good degree of completion will be very valuable for Invention #10, which promises to be considerably more physically challenging for my left hand than #9.
The biggest initial learning challenge for me in #9 is the cognitive challenge of putting the two hands together. They intertwine in lovely and intricate ways, and it's taking me a bit of work to get it all sorted out. In the end, I'm right back to playing the whole, which is where I was yesterday.
And what a lovely whole it is. The piece, in F minor, is rather melancholy but very flowing. I take pleasure in practicing the hands together even at a very slow tempo.
I do, of course, stop off along the way to isolate and work on particular passages, but I soon integrate them back into the whole.
I suppose my conclusion from all this is that there are lots of approaches to learning a piece, and I can apply them flexibly as the need arises.
Yesterday, composer/pianist Kathleen Ryan ran across this blog (after I sent her a link to it) and did me the great favor of commenting on it. For example, see her comment and my reply to the post "Well, it's been nearly two weeks..." from 2/12/2012. I'm very pleased and grateful to have guidance from a trained professional musician like Kathleen.
One of Kathleen's recommendations is to practice the left hand alone until I have it down pat before practicing both hands together. Now, I'm generally a "play it as a whole" sort of guy. I enjoy hearing a piece as a whole, and I think it's a valuable way for me to get into the musical qualities of a piece. But I have a great deal of respect for Kathleen's skills at the keyboard, and I decided to try out her recommendation on Bach Two Part Invention #9, which I'm currently learning.
In this particular piece, I found it quite easy to learn the left hand part alone. Within 15 minutes, I was playing it smoothly and musically at full speed. (I had a tendency to sing along.) It turns out that Invention #9 just isn't that physically challenging for my left hand. So, I'm not sure how much I got out of this little exercise other than making the left hand fingerings more automatic, although that in itself is no small benefit. I can see, however, that learning the left hand alone to a good degree of completion will be very valuable for Invention #10, which promises to be considerably more physically challenging for my left hand than #9.
The biggest initial learning challenge for me in #9 is the cognitive challenge of putting the two hands together. They intertwine in lovely and intricate ways, and it's taking me a bit of work to get it all sorted out. In the end, I'm right back to playing the whole, which is where I was yesterday.
And what a lovely whole it is. The piece, in F minor, is rather melancholy but very flowing. I take pleasure in practicing the hands together even at a very slow tempo.
I do, of course, stop off along the way to isolate and work on particular passages, but I soon integrate them back into the whole.
I suppose my conclusion from all this is that there are lots of approaches to learning a piece, and I can apply them flexibly as the need arises.
Friday, February 17, 2012
TEMPTATION
"I can resist everything except temptation." -- Oscar Wilde, in Lady Windermere's Fan
I practiced the left hand trill in Invention #7, and all of Invention #9 this morning. For the trill, I'm sitting back a little from my edge, from my maximum speed, until the trill is completely smooth, relaxed, automatic, and natural at this speed. Only then do I plan to increase the speed again. At least that's the plan. The temptation to push ahead is huge.
Invention #9 is requiring my maximum patience, too. I'm determined to play it at half speed until everything is completely automatic. Yes, if I had boosted the speed a little bit this morning, I could have kept up, but it would have been a little rushed. I know that I'm laying the foundation for mastery of the piece right now, in these slow and (not always) patient hours. Once I've invested in making it 100% automatic and easy at this speed, it will be easy to boost the speed a little every day, and the dividends will begin to roll in faster and faster.
I find it's easier to resist the temptation to push ahead too fast if I intersperse the intense practice sessions with playing purely for pleasure. This morning, I went back to Invention #6, a sprightly dance that I can play at full tempo. What a delight! It reminded me of the rewards patience will bring me.
"I can resist everything except temptation." -- Oscar Wilde, in Lady Windermere's Fan
I practiced the left hand trill in Invention #7, and all of Invention #9 this morning. For the trill, I'm sitting back a little from my edge, from my maximum speed, until the trill is completely smooth, relaxed, automatic, and natural at this speed. Only then do I plan to increase the speed again. At least that's the plan. The temptation to push ahead is huge.
Invention #9 is requiring my maximum patience, too. I'm determined to play it at half speed until everything is completely automatic. Yes, if I had boosted the speed a little bit this morning, I could have kept up, but it would have been a little rushed. I know that I'm laying the foundation for mastery of the piece right now, in these slow and (not always) patient hours. Once I've invested in making it 100% automatic and easy at this speed, it will be easy to boost the speed a little every day, and the dividends will begin to roll in faster and faster.
I find it's easier to resist the temptation to push ahead too fast if I intersperse the intense practice sessions with playing purely for pleasure. This morning, I went back to Invention #6, a sprightly dance that I can play at full tempo. What a delight! It reminded me of the rewards patience will bring me.
AGING AND PRACTICING
My thirty-something concert pianist friend Spencer Myer once told me that he was advised to memorize all the music he could while young because it gets harder and harder to memorize anything as one grows older.
That's certainly been my experience. When I was in my teens, merely practicing a piece to a finished state was enough to lodge it in my memory, and many of those pieces are still in there. But nowadays, north of 60, I have to work harder than ever just to become familiar with a piece, let alone memorize it. Working on Bach's Two Part Inventions has certainly shown me that.
I could think, "I'm too old to learn all these new pieces." But I prefer to think, "This is the youngest I'll ever be. Now is the time."
And music helps to keep me young. It certainly seems to work for this 108 year old, who still practices every day. If she can do it, I can do it.
[Here's a hearty shout out to Nathaniel for sending me the link to the video of Alice Herz Sommer.]
My thirty-something concert pianist friend Spencer Myer once told me that he was advised to memorize all the music he could while young because it gets harder and harder to memorize anything as one grows older.
That's certainly been my experience. When I was in my teens, merely practicing a piece to a finished state was enough to lodge it in my memory, and many of those pieces are still in there. But nowadays, north of 60, I have to work harder than ever just to become familiar with a piece, let alone memorize it. Working on Bach's Two Part Inventions has certainly shown me that.
I could think, "I'm too old to learn all these new pieces." But I prefer to think, "This is the youngest I'll ever be. Now is the time."
And music helps to keep me young. It certainly seems to work for this 108 year old, who still practices every day. If she can do it, I can do it.
[Here's a hearty shout out to Nathaniel for sending me the link to the video of Alice Herz Sommer.]
Thursday, February 16, 2012
SPACED OUT
Instead of one practice session of 60 to 90 minutes, I spaced today's practice out into a number of 10 or 15 minute sessions. Given what I was doing today, that helps to prevent both fatigue and boredom.
I began the day by warming up with the usual scales and arpeggios, and then attacked the left hand trill in Invention #7.
I practiced the trill in segments of increasing length. The trill lasts 9 full beats, which feels like a month when I'm playing it. I played it, left hand alone and then with the right hand, for one beat, then two beats, then three beats, and so on. That really seemed to help me to play it crisply and in tempo. No increase in tempo today -- still working on getting it to be totally easy at the current tempo. Practicing the trill is intense and so short bursts of practice keep from tightening up.
For Invention #9, which I just started to learn yesterday, I ran through each hand alone, worked separately on the ornaments in the middle and at the end, and then began putting the whole thing together at about half my target tempo. It's not a fast piece to begin with, so half tempo is quite slow. Doing several short practices prevents boredom, and helps me to resist the temptation to start off playing it too fast or to increase the tempo prematurely. "Allen" commented on February 13 that it's important to go slowly enough to avoid mistakes. That way, there are fewer mistakes to correct later because you prevent wrong pathways from ever appearing to begin with.
I think I'll go practice a little bit.
Instead of one practice session of 60 to 90 minutes, I spaced today's practice out into a number of 10 or 15 minute sessions. Given what I was doing today, that helps to prevent both fatigue and boredom.
I began the day by warming up with the usual scales and arpeggios, and then attacked the left hand trill in Invention #7.
I practiced the trill in segments of increasing length. The trill lasts 9 full beats, which feels like a month when I'm playing it. I played it, left hand alone and then with the right hand, for one beat, then two beats, then three beats, and so on. That really seemed to help me to play it crisply and in tempo. No increase in tempo today -- still working on getting it to be totally easy at the current tempo. Practicing the trill is intense and so short bursts of practice keep from tightening up.
For Invention #9, which I just started to learn yesterday, I ran through each hand alone, worked separately on the ornaments in the middle and at the end, and then began putting the whole thing together at about half my target tempo. It's not a fast piece to begin with, so half tempo is quite slow. Doing several short practices prevents boredom, and helps me to resist the temptation to start off playing it too fast or to increase the tempo prematurely. "Allen" commented on February 13 that it's important to go slowly enough to avoid mistakes. That way, there are fewer mistakes to correct later because you prevent wrong pathways from ever appearing to begin with.
I think I'll go practice a little bit.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
MOUNT EVEREST
OK, the left hand trill in Bach's Two Part Invention #7 might not be my Mt. Everest. A Rachmaninoff piano concerto would be more like Mt. Everest for me in that I'm pretty certain I'll never master either one. But I'm beginning to wonder if this trill will end up being just as intractable. Well, I'll never know until I give it my best shot.
I think it's time to bring out my ultimate secret weapon: persistence. Patient day in and day out persistence. Up until now, I've been pushing that metronome setting upward at a fairly steady pace. But I'm on a plateau now, and I'm having trouble pushing past the current level. Today, I slowed it down a bit, backed off my edge just a bit. My plan is to practice the trill at this speed until it is super easy, super automatic, super relaxed before I take it up a notch. Patience. Persistence.
I'm currently at about two thirds of my target tempo. I feel confident I can bring Invention #7 as a whole up to that target. On the whole, it isn't that tough for me. It's just that triplet trill that's killing me. Am I up against an insurmountable physical limitation in my abilities? Will I have to capitulate and simplify the trill to get the piece up to my target tempo? Or will I eventually get to the top of the mountain? We'll see. But only if I can maintain my persistence in the face of self doubt.
OK, the left hand trill in Bach's Two Part Invention #7 might not be my Mt. Everest. A Rachmaninoff piano concerto would be more like Mt. Everest for me in that I'm pretty certain I'll never master either one. But I'm beginning to wonder if this trill will end up being just as intractable. Well, I'll never know until I give it my best shot.
I think it's time to bring out my ultimate secret weapon: persistence. Patient day in and day out persistence. Up until now, I've been pushing that metronome setting upward at a fairly steady pace. But I'm on a plateau now, and I'm having trouble pushing past the current level. Today, I slowed it down a bit, backed off my edge just a bit. My plan is to practice the trill at this speed until it is super easy, super automatic, super relaxed before I take it up a notch. Patience. Persistence.
I'm currently at about two thirds of my target tempo. I feel confident I can bring Invention #7 as a whole up to that target. On the whole, it isn't that tough for me. It's just that triplet trill that's killing me. Am I up against an insurmountable physical limitation in my abilities? Will I have to capitulate and simplify the trill to get the piece up to my target tempo? Or will I eventually get to the top of the mountain? We'll see. But only if I can maintain my persistence in the face of self doubt.
 |
| A fragment of the music showing the trill in the left hand. The little inset below the staff shows how the trill is to be played on the whole note B. |
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
A DAY OFF
I'm taking a day off from intense practice today. I'll probably stop by the piano from time to time and play a little something just for fun. But no metronome, no focus.
I find that the breaks in between the practice sessions are just as important as the practice sessions. In particular, a good night's sleep can really help the brain consolidate what it's learned. Many times I've found that something that was challenging one day became easy the next day, after a night's rest.
Rest, nutritious food, exercise, sobriety -- all of these things support the process of honing a skill. A skill is stored in the body, particularly in the brain. Those have to be in shape or the skill is dulled.
Of course, all break and no practice leaves nothing to consolidate. The rest has meaning only in relationship to the activity. I find that a one day break can be beneficial, but I begin to decondition after a two day break.
See you tomorrow, Johann.
I'm taking a day off from intense practice today. I'll probably stop by the piano from time to time and play a little something just for fun. But no metronome, no focus.
I find that the breaks in between the practice sessions are just as important as the practice sessions. In particular, a good night's sleep can really help the brain consolidate what it's learned. Many times I've found that something that was challenging one day became easy the next day, after a night's rest.
Rest, nutritious food, exercise, sobriety -- all of these things support the process of honing a skill. A skill is stored in the body, particularly in the brain. Those have to be in shape or the skill is dulled.
Of course, all break and no practice leaves nothing to consolidate. The rest has meaning only in relationship to the activity. I find that a one day break can be beneficial, but I begin to decondition after a two day break.
See you tomorrow, Johann.
Monday, February 13, 2012
HOW I GOT STARTED BLOGGING ABOUT PIANO PRACTICE
I was in a downward spiral of not practicing. Because I hadn't been practicing, I wasn't playing well. Because I wasn't playing well, I didn't want to practice. And so on. I knew if I didn't pull out of the tail spin, I would crash and burn, destroying over half a century of playing the piano.
I got started with the blog after I declared to my men's group that I was going to practice for a minimum of one hour per day for five days. I was leaning on my group to help me re-establish the practice habit. I knew that, if I just practiced it would soon get better, no matter how unsatisfying it might be at first. One of the members of the group volunteered to support me by reading my daily practice reports via email. I ended up enjoying writing the reports so much that I continued writing well beyond the five days to which I had committed. Yesterday, I finally got around to putting it all into a real blog so I could open it up to my friends and students and anyone else interested in the topic. And here we are.
And who knows? Maybe some experienced pianists will find it, take pity on me, and give me some valuable guidance.
I was in a downward spiral of not practicing. Because I hadn't been practicing, I wasn't playing well. Because I wasn't playing well, I didn't want to practice. And so on. I knew if I didn't pull out of the tail spin, I would crash and burn, destroying over half a century of playing the piano.
I got started with the blog after I declared to my men's group that I was going to practice for a minimum of one hour per day for five days. I was leaning on my group to help me re-establish the practice habit. I knew that, if I just practiced it would soon get better, no matter how unsatisfying it might be at first. One of the members of the group volunteered to support me by reading my daily practice reports via email. I ended up enjoying writing the reports so much that I continued writing well beyond the five days to which I had committed. Yesterday, I finally got around to putting it all into a real blog so I could open it up to my friends and students and anyone else interested in the topic. And here we are.
And who knows? Maybe some experienced pianists will find it, take pity on me, and give me some valuable guidance.
FEELING THE TRILL
Rhythm is in the body. It's dance, heartbeat, waves, little vibrations. This morning I played around with feeling that rolling motion in the left hand trill in Two Part invention #7. I realized that I had become so focused (yeah, I over focus) on synchronizing the primary accent on the upper note of every other triplet with the click of the metronome that I wasn't feeling the secondary accent on the lower note of every other triplet.
OK, that last sentence needs some explanation. Here's the basic pattern of the trill, the smallest unit into which it can be broken down: cbcbcb. That's two triplets: cbc bcb. To get the feel of it rhythmically, there has to be an accent (emphasis) on the very first note of the pattern, and that accent is synchronized with the beat of the music, the metronome click: Cbc bcb. And there also has to be a lesser accent on the lower note, the first note of the second triplet: Cbc Bcb.
DAH da da DAH da da. Feel it? It rolls when I'm feeling both accents -- really feeling them in my body.
I'm playing the trill with the index finger and middle finger of my left hand, or fingers 2 and 3 in the convention pianists use to number the fingers (the thumb is 1, the pinky is 5). To play the trill in a relaxed way, I have to allow my forearm to rotate loosely at the elbow. It's in this motion that I feel -- or don't feel -- the rocking and rolling accents of the trill.
Maybe I should rename the blog "The Obsessed Pianist".
A Yeats poem comes to mind: The Fascination of What's Difficult
Rhythm is in the body. It's dance, heartbeat, waves, little vibrations. This morning I played around with feeling that rolling motion in the left hand trill in Two Part invention #7. I realized that I had become so focused (yeah, I over focus) on synchronizing the primary accent on the upper note of every other triplet with the click of the metronome that I wasn't feeling the secondary accent on the lower note of every other triplet.
OK, that last sentence needs some explanation. Here's the basic pattern of the trill, the smallest unit into which it can be broken down: cbcbcb. That's two triplets: cbc bcb. To get the feel of it rhythmically, there has to be an accent (emphasis) on the very first note of the pattern, and that accent is synchronized with the beat of the music, the metronome click: Cbc bcb. And there also has to be a lesser accent on the lower note, the first note of the second triplet: Cbc Bcb.
DAH da da DAH da da. Feel it? It rolls when I'm feeling both accents -- really feeling them in my body.
I'm playing the trill with the index finger and middle finger of my left hand, or fingers 2 and 3 in the convention pianists use to number the fingers (the thumb is 1, the pinky is 5). To play the trill in a relaxed way, I have to allow my forearm to rotate loosely at the elbow. It's in this motion that I feel -- or don't feel -- the rocking and rolling accents of the trill.
Maybe I should rename the blog "The Obsessed Pianist".
A Yeats poem comes to mind: The Fascination of What's Difficult
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Well, it's nearly two weeks since my last post, and I'm still working on Invention #7, the one that I thought wouldn't be too tough to learn. Ha! Most of it is actually coming along just fine. The sticking point is, of course, that killer trill in the left hand. I haven't yet given in to the temptation to simplify it. I'm getting too much out of working on it, both physically and psychologically.
I've cut my practice time almost in half because of some physical issues in my left arm and elbow. I don't think they're caused by playing the piano, but I do feel them sometimes when I play, particularly if I tense up. I hope that shorter practice periods will help me to avoid aggravating the problems.
Since the end of January, I've increased the metronome speed by around 40%, a satisfying amount of progress, but every bit of that progress has been hard won. Now I'm working with a mixture of physical and cognitive challenges.
I'm ironing out the physical problems by sheer repetition. If I can play the trill at tempo X, I try it at tempo X+1. If that breaks down, I repeat tempo X until it becomes very easy, until I find myself maybe wanting to rush it. Then I try tempo X+1 again. It usually flies at that point, but maybe just barely. I have to practice it in and stabilize it.
The cognitive challenge at this speed is getting the accents to fall in the right places. The trill is a series of triplets. It has a sort of rolling feel to it. I find if I'm too stiff and rigid about bringing out the triplets, that is, about accenting the notes so that they're heard as triplets, it slows me down. I have to let go and just feel the rolling movement, and then it comes together.
I've brought out my feeble arsenal of practice tricks. I'm playing the left hand alone and with the right hand. I'm playing loudly and softly. I'm playing the trill in sections (e.g., every other beat) and all the way through. I'm going to the piano at odd moments throughout the day and practicing the trill briefly (frequent short practices with rest in between can be very helpful). Hmm... What other practice tricks could I employ? Specifically, what would help me get into the zone of feeling that rolling motion?
I've cut my practice time almost in half because of some physical issues in my left arm and elbow. I don't think they're caused by playing the piano, but I do feel them sometimes when I play, particularly if I tense up. I hope that shorter practice periods will help me to avoid aggravating the problems.
Since the end of January, I've increased the metronome speed by around 40%, a satisfying amount of progress, but every bit of that progress has been hard won. Now I'm working with a mixture of physical and cognitive challenges.
I'm ironing out the physical problems by sheer repetition. If I can play the trill at tempo X, I try it at tempo X+1. If that breaks down, I repeat tempo X until it becomes very easy, until I find myself maybe wanting to rush it. Then I try tempo X+1 again. It usually flies at that point, but maybe just barely. I have to practice it in and stabilize it.
The cognitive challenge at this speed is getting the accents to fall in the right places. The trill is a series of triplets. It has a sort of rolling feel to it. I find if I'm too stiff and rigid about bringing out the triplets, that is, about accenting the notes so that they're heard as triplets, it slows me down. I have to let go and just feel the rolling movement, and then it comes together.
I've brought out my feeble arsenal of practice tricks. I'm playing the left hand alone and with the right hand. I'm playing loudly and softly. I'm playing the trill in sections (e.g., every other beat) and all the way through. I'm going to the piano at odd moments throughout the day and practicing the trill briefly (frequent short practices with rest in between can be very helpful). Hmm... What other practice tricks could I employ? Specifically, what would help me get into the zone of feeling that rolling motion?
BREAKTHROUGH
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/31/2012.]
Well, if yesterday was a breakDOWN day, today was a breakTHROUGH day.
In
Invention #7, I've run up hard against a trill in the left hand. I've
reached the maximum tempo at which I can play it, and that tempo is
already below where I can play the rest of the piece and is
substantially below the finished tempo I'm shooting for.
The trill goes on for 9 beats, a little over two
measures, and it feels like an eternity. The same trill appears earlier
in the right hand, where it goes on for 6 beats. Each beat is 4 sets of
triplets, for a total of 12 alternated notes per beat or, as we say, 6
"repercussions" per beat.
What has been happening is that, beyond a certain
tempo, I can't sustain the LH (left hand) trill for the full 9 beats.
It gets off track at some
point, so that the repercussions are no longer in strict tempo and
therefore stop lining up properly with the notes in the RH. It turns
into a mess.
I thought this was a physical
problem. I thought that I had maybe run up against a hard limit in my
physical abilities, and that I'd have to simplify the trill -- reduce
the number of repercussions per beat to a level I could handle -- so
that I could finish getting the piece up to tempo and go on with my life
already.
But then I got to pondering the implications
of an interesting fact: I COULD PLAY THE TRILL IN THE LH JUST FINE,
STRICTLY IN TEMPO FOR THE FULL 9 BEATS OR EVEN LONGER, IF I PLAYED IT
ALONE WITHOUT THE RH. At some point it sank in: what that means is that,
at this tempo, the problem is primarily COGNITIVE, not physical. That
was the breakthrough moment. In retrospect, it seems completely
obvious.
With that realization, I could
take a different angle on boosting the tempo of the trill. Instead of
merely playing it at one tempo until physical mastery was achieved and
then moving to the next tempo, I needed to make a cognitive shift of
some kind. But what? What, cognitively, was the problem? Why did
adding the RH make a trill that I was physically capable of playing fall
apart?
ATTENTION! That's it! When I was playing the trill
alone in the LH, my full attention was on it. When I added the RH, my
attention subconsciously and automatically shifted to the RH and the LH
was left to wander in the wilderness. With that insight, the solution
became obvious: While playing the two hands together, I consciously and
deliberately shifted my attention to the LH, and like magic it began to
stay on track better. LIKE MAGIC! WITH JUST A SHIFT
OF ATTENTION! It's going to take some practice to be able to put this
together, but I realize now that I generally put my attention on the RH
while I'm playing the two hands together and depend on habit to carry
the LH along. Good old Johann Sebastian won't let me get away with
that. His music demands more flexibility of attention. I think he was
probably one of those people who have multiple music channels built into
their brains. He could probably hear all those lines of polyphony
simultaneously and fully. It must have sounded marvelous in his mind.
What a stupefying talent the man had.
Anyway, I know that I'll probably run up
against an actual physical limitation with this trill at some point, but
I'm not there yet. I've broken through a cognitive barrier. It'll
take some hard practice to consolidate this and make it habitual, but it
will carry me along much further than I am
now. I'll deal with the physical limit when I get there.
Hmmm...
Gotta relax that tension in my jaw while I'm playing this trill, too.
There's another cognitive problem. And where else am I holding tension?
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/31/2012.]
BREAKDOWN
But
most of all, just sticking with it helps me. If I just continue to
practice, I know that I'll find the inherent satisfactions that it
provides and those will keep me going. They always have in the past. I
think they will for a little while longer.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/30/2012.]
After a very satisfying and
forward looking practice session yesterday, I experienced a
psychological breakdown today. It wasn't cognitive or technical; it was
definitely psychological.
I thought "What's the use? I'll never get
this. I'll never be any good. Why am I busting my butt on this? Why
not just go do something fun and easy? Bach is too hard for me. My left
elbow hurts. I'm too old to learn new stuff at the piano. My memory
isn't what it used to be. The heck with it." I ended practice at least 15
minutes earlier than I would have normally.
OK. Deal with it. What's up?
Was
it the sugar in the ice cream I ate last night? I
haven't had sugar
in quite a while. That can mess with my mood.
Was
it the fact that I've been hanging out at the very edge of my abilities
for weeks on end now? I've spent almost all of my practice time
learning new stuff and pushing the limits of what I can do. I've spent
relatively little time playing familiar pieces that I've already
basically mastered, and that I can have the pleasure of refining
musically.
Was it just the usual cycle of good and bad moods? Go do something else and wait it out?
The
thing is, I find that it isn't just music. It never is. Music
reflects what's going on with me more generally. I'm discouraged about
everything this morning, now that I think about it. So it's a mood.
I've had those before. I'll have them again. I can deal with moods.
Things that help me:
Exercise, or even just moving
around.
Breaking my routine.
Being with friends. I'm helping a friend move today. That'll pull me out of my own head.
Heavy drinking. Just kidding!
Remembering my motivations -- I want to have a great looking brain for the autopsy!
Laughing at myself.
The appreciation of beauty.
Also, writing this blog helps. It gives me perspective.
Another
thing that gives me perspective is the experience of other musicians.
Here's a quote from Mike Ragogna's interview with Joshua Bell. Mike
lives here and is an acquaintance of mine. He interviews
musicians of all kinds. Joshua Bell is one of the most famous young
classical violinists working today. He's at the very top of his
profession, but even he is still developing.
MR: What is the biggest growth that you've had as an artist?
JB: Well, since I've started, I've grown about five
and a half feet. (laughs) I did start when I was very young. I was four
years old and being a musician and a violinist is a constant growth
process. You're always learning. It's hard to answer that question. I
mean, I still feel I'm going in the right direction. Each year, I feel
I'm still getting better and finding more insight into the music. The
Franck that I just recorded, for instance, I recorded twenty years ago. I
think I would have a hard time listening to it because I've experience
so much in between, in music and in life in general. Your whole approach
changes as you get older, and I have a better violin now. I have a
wonderful, many-million-dollar Stradivarius violin that was made in
1713. One's sound changes over the years and you refine it. It's a fun job
because you're always evolving and learning.[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/30/2012.]
NEW BEGINNINGS
Yesterday, Student 1's first lesson went very very
well. He's going to be a serious student. I'm looking forward to these
lessons, in no small part because I want to see how they reflect back on
my own practice of music and enrich it. Hmmm... maybe I'll ask him to
keep a little blog
about his practice like I've been doing. It would be a window into his
practice for me, and it would help him be more conscious and
self-reflective about what he's doing. Writing these have been
unexpectedly beneficial for me. I'll talk to him about it at our next
lesson.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/24/2012.]
I've pretty thoroughly learned Invention #6 now. It's up to speed,
and I'm ready to go off metronome and really turn it into music. I'll
probably play it a few times today at odd moments and see what I can
make out of it.
This morning I began real work on Invention #7.
Woohoo! I don't think it'll be very hard to learn. I've already been
working out two of the harder passages in the background over the last
several days. Tomorrow, it will replace #6 as the main focus of my
practice time.
[At this time, I took on a music student. I wasn't looking for students. He approached me about it, and I agreed. I expect it'll make me an even more conscious pianist.]
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/24/2012.]
HOW TO PLAY IT WRONG
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/18/2012.]
Mostly worked on invention #6 today. It's fun, and coming together
rapidly. I spent some time studying its harmonic structure to help me
get through the thicket of accidentals
in the middle section.
Here's a very common
mistake that people make when practicing. In trying to work out a
passage, they play it until they get it right and then move on to the
next thing. Sounds natural enough, but what did they just do?
play it wrong
play it wrong
play it wrong
play it wrong
play it wrong
play it right
go onto the next thing
So,
in effect, they mostly practiced playing it wrong even though the last
repetition happened to be right. What's going to happen the
next time they go back to that passage? They'll play it the way they
practiced it: wrong.
It's important, once
you get it right, to immediately practice it the right way until it's a
stable habit that overwhelms all the wrong ways you played it. If you're
honest with yourself about what's really going on, and if you're
ruthlessly self-disciplined, it'll look more like this:
play it wrong
play it wrong
play it wrong
play it wrong
play it wrong
play it right
play it wrong
play it wrong
play it right
play it wrong
play it right
play it right
play it wrong
play it right
play it wrong
play it right
play it wrong
play it right
play it right
play it right
play it right
play it right
play it right
play it right
play it right
play it right
go onto the next thing
Now you're done with that passage and it won't come back to haunt and frustrate you.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/18/2012.]
HOW TO HAVE A GREAT AUTOPSY
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/17/2012.]
Studies have shown that doctors doing autopsies can tell musicians
from the general population because their brains are larger and have
more connections. I'm so happy to be stimulating the growth of my brain
with music again. We're just beginning to understand what a plastic
organ the brain is. It can grow and develop throughout life, and respond to
changing conditions and activities. Just learning to do something new
(such as brushing one's teeth) with one's non-dominant hand creates
measurable new connections in the brain. All this growth needs to be
supported with good rest, nutrition, and exercise to get oxygen-rich
blood flowing through the brain.
This is my second day working on invention #6. I'm
working on it only for the last 15 minutes or so of the practice
session, but
it's coming along rapidly. It's like this graceful little dance in
triple meter. So delightful! And no ornaments in this one to slow me
down.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/17/2012.]
COGNITIVE AND PHYSICAL CHALLENGES
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/14-15/2012.]
The last two days have been all about reaching a tempo goal for
invention #5, cranking up that metronome setting beat by beat and
working out the kinks. I told myself that I could start learning #6 if I
got #5 up to that tempo. Of course, I'll still be working on #5, too.
Today, I got to that goal after an hour and 20 minutes of practice.
Tomorrow I start #6. Yay!
When I first start a piece at a very slow tempo,
most of the challenges are cognitive -- remembering what comes next,
figuring out the fingering, etc. At the slow speed, the physical
challenges are few and easily dealt with by and large. As I increase the
speed, the relative proportion of physical challenges increases. At
medium speeds, most of the early stage cognitive challenges have been
worked out, and
it's mostly about getting my fingers to do certain passages. At higher
speeds, it becomes a much greater physical challenge, and cognitive
challenges creep back in: staying relaxed, keeping focus, being present
with what's happening while also being mentally prepared for what's
next.
The answer to both
the cognitive and the physical problems is the same -- practice,
practice, practice. There are some differences in how I practice to
overcome the two types of problems, but that's a topic for another
day...
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/14-15/2012.]
A SNAG IN #5
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/13/2012.]
For invention #5, I crossed a tempo threshold where the final
cadential trill in the right hand broke down completely. It's on
fingers 3 and 4, which is tough, and to complicate matters further it has little turns at the
beginning and end.
The good news is that
I'm progressing at an accelerating pace on all of the rest of the
piece. My strategy is to put the trill on its own little practice
regimen, and not stop progress on everything else. I'm not going to
let it hold me up.
'to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.'
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/13/2012.]
A TRICK FOR THE TRILL
I came up with a new way of practicing the 5 measure long left hand trill in Invention #4 that has been a huge challenge for me. When I increase the metronome speed, I play just the notes of the trill that go with the first beat in each measure until I adapt to the higher speed, and only then do I play the trill the whole way through each measure. It really helps me adjust the tempo of the trill and keep it synchronized with the beat and with what's going on in the right hand.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/12/2012.]
I came up with a new way of practicing the 5 measure long left hand trill in Invention #4 that has been a huge challenge for me. When I increase the metronome speed, I play just the notes of the trill that go with the first beat in each measure until I adapt to the higher speed, and only then do I play the trill the whole way through each measure. It really helps me adjust the tempo of the trill and keep it synchronized with the beat and with what's going on in the right hand.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/12/2012.]
BRIAN GROWS A NEURON
Funny how that works.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/11/2012.]
I had a little breakthrough in today's practice. Up through
yesterday, I had been struggling with a particular ornament in the left
hand. Today, all of a sudden I can just toss it off.
Something
let go. Something loosened up. Something connected in my brain. And
it happened while I was away from the keyboard. Was it during sleep?
Who knows...
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/11/2012.]
SATISFACTION
I can do things at the keyboard today that I couldn't do at the beginning of the week. That means something has changed in my nervous system. New connections have been made, particularly in relation to my left hand, which is my non-dominant hand. Some composers emphasize the right hand and make the left hand's part easier, but old J.S. must have been ambidextrous. He makes pretty much equal demands on the two hands. Learning to play his music is really good for me.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/6/2012.]
I can do things at the keyboard today that I couldn't do at the beginning of the week. That means something has changed in my nervous system. New connections have been made, particularly in relation to my left hand, which is my non-dominant hand. Some composers emphasize the right hand and make the left hand's part easier, but old J.S. must have been ambidextrous. He makes pretty much equal demands on the two hands. Learning to play his music is really good for me.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/6/2012.]
MAKING TIME TO PRACTICE
My strategy is to practice before I get swept up in the other
events of the day, and particularly before I start some other project like woodworking.
Once I'm involved in a woodworking project, I can get lost in it for hours.
Well, I'm done with scheduled practice for the day, although I
go back to the keyboard during odd corners of time during the day.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/4/2012.]
STARTING OUT
10 minutes warming up with scales and arpeggios
20 minutes working on a difficult passage in Bach's Two Part Invention #4. There's a left hand trill that severely challenges me.
30 minutes beginning to learn invention #5. This is a new
one for me, and one that was intimidating. But I've pretty well gotten
the first 4 measures (out of 32 total) and I'm on my way now. Starting a new piece is always tough. At first it seems insurmountable to me. Then I start to get the hang of it.
Then when I get a little deeper, it seems insurmountable again. Sigh.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/3/2012.]
Then when I get a little deeper, it seems insurmountable again. Sigh.
[Before beginning this blog, I was sending emails to a friend. I'm incorporating those into the blog, and embellishing them here and there. This entry was from 1/3/2012.]
This blog is a record of my experiences while practicing the piano. I began learning the piano as a child of about 5 or 6. Now I'm
60, and I want to know that I gave it a pretty good shot. As I begin blogging, I'm in the midst of learning all 15 of the Two Part Inventions of J. S. Bach. It's quite a project for me. They're challenging, no doubt about it, but I'm working in the hope that they are within my reach, if not my current grasp. If I can make some music with these, I'll know that I've really bolstered my skills at the keyboard.
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