I have to admit, I have been relieved that I haven't had to play scales for a very long time. Mainly because playing them don't make me feel very good--they sound uneven, the left hand misses lots of notes, etc.
But as I'm practicing the Chopin piano trio, I realized I probably need to get back to practicing some scales. There are a few passages where the two hands play in parallel motions. I'm not too happy with my two hands being uneven, and I just realized that they are thirds.
I've never been good at parallel thirds in both hands. They have never been even. Maybe that's why thirds, as well as sixths and tenths, are something I haven't played since middle school. Wow!
My left hand is actually a bit worse than I thought. The only thing it is consistent in is missing notes... my 2nd finger there isn't very reliable either. Well, that's kind of annoying, because those are things that can only be fixed through months of practice. I was hoping I can get away with it now that I'm playing "real pieces"--but sometimes, missing links can come back and bite you.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Use Your Imagination--Having a Vision for How to Make Music Sound Good
So I've talked about how I've been working on making musical phrases when playing the piano. That's coming along quite nicely, at least in the sense that I actually actively think about phrasing now, as opposed to ignoring composers' phrasings marks when I was younger.
Another thing I briefly touched on is having a consistent interpretation of a piece of music. This is something I need a lot more work on, but until I actually play a few more pieces of music in completion, I'll remain deficient in this regard. I'm in no rush, of course.
I also mentioned that I need to let music come to me once in a while. That's tricky, because unless you have good intuition, letting music come to you sometimes means you're churning out madness. Think of children playing--not the prodigies, of course--say, Mozart's K. 545. Extreme speed, right? That is not what you want when I say "letting the music come to you". It's something that needs to be nurtured, but at the same time, you need to expose your primitive modules of your brain to grow musically.
Today, as I'm listening to the Ax, Frank and Ma's version of Chopin Trio, I am struck by how good it sounds. I've been a little distracted by the despite wild fluctuations in tempos and some seemingly non-faithless interpretations in my past hearing of their performance, but as I'm being frustrated by my inability to make my piano part sound good, I realize just what caliber of musicians they are. And I realize, I am been following scores to such a tee that I am hampering my imagination.
Currently, I do have have the vision to be able to create good musical sounds in my head, and perhaps that's why I have so steadfastly remained faithful to the score. I need to be able to imagine and hear various ways of playing music in my head to actually be artistic and creative--after all, that's what playing music is all about. It's not about following every last bit of the composer's dynamic and tempo markings. That's what professors and, gasp, musicologists do. As an artist, you need to be able to go one step beyond that. I'm not talking about violating the composers' intents, but turning the music the composers created into pure gold. Once the composers wrote their music, the music becomes human property, in a sense, and as long as you understand the spirit what the music was written, the dynamic marking and tempos should all come naturally if you have that artistic vision.
And that artistic vision and imagination is what I need to develop. It kind of encompasses "letting the music come to you", I suppose, because now you're letting the music come to you even when you're not actually making the sounds at the piano.
Another thing I briefly touched on is having a consistent interpretation of a piece of music. This is something I need a lot more work on, but until I actually play a few more pieces of music in completion, I'll remain deficient in this regard. I'm in no rush, of course.
I also mentioned that I need to let music come to me once in a while. That's tricky, because unless you have good intuition, letting music come to you sometimes means you're churning out madness. Think of children playing--not the prodigies, of course--say, Mozart's K. 545. Extreme speed, right? That is not what you want when I say "letting the music come to you". It's something that needs to be nurtured, but at the same time, you need to expose your primitive modules of your brain to grow musically.
Today, as I'm listening to the Ax, Frank and Ma's version of Chopin Trio, I am struck by how good it sounds. I've been a little distracted by the despite wild fluctuations in tempos and some seemingly non-faithless interpretations in my past hearing of their performance, but as I'm being frustrated by my inability to make my piano part sound good, I realize just what caliber of musicians they are. And I realize, I am been following scores to such a tee that I am hampering my imagination.
Currently, I do have have the vision to be able to create good musical sounds in my head, and perhaps that's why I have so steadfastly remained faithful to the score. I need to be able to imagine and hear various ways of playing music in my head to actually be artistic and creative--after all, that's what playing music is all about. It's not about following every last bit of the composer's dynamic and tempo markings. That's what professors and, gasp, musicologists do. As an artist, you need to be able to go one step beyond that. I'm not talking about violating the composers' intents, but turning the music the composers created into pure gold. Once the composers wrote their music, the music becomes human property, in a sense, and as long as you understand the spirit what the music was written, the dynamic marking and tempos should all come naturally if you have that artistic vision.
And that artistic vision and imagination is what I need to develop. It kind of encompasses "letting the music come to you", I suppose, because now you're letting the music come to you even when you're not actually making the sounds at the piano.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Letting the Music Come to You
So I've kind of went through the 4 movements of the Chopin Trio, and the few days have been playing something different. A couple of Scarlatti Sonatas, some Bach Prelude and Fugues, Poulenc Mouvement Perpetual, and also, Chopin Etudes. Actually, I should say, mostly Chopin Etudes. Op. 10-5 (Black Key), Op 10-8 (Sunshine?), and Op 10-12 (Revolutionary).
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Learning the Chopin Piano Trio -- Part III
The piece is quite a bit more difficult than I had imagined chamber music pieces to be. Or maybe it's just me not trying to play all the right notes in the past and now I'm trying to? Either way, this post will be more about technical difficulties I'm encountering as I'm learning the 4th movement of the Chopin Piano Trio.
1) Bar 35.
I've been following the fingering suggested by the National Edition, in blue. I find the D circled in red to be very awkward to play with thumb. Maybe I should have explored alternate fingerings, but they're all hard in one way or another.
2) Broken 6ths, octaves, 10ths and 11ths
This passage is proving itself to be hard. The 10th and 11th are hard enough as is, and jumping from the F back to the C doesn't help.
The big broken chord in 132 (and 131, not shown) isn't exactly trivial, but the ones in bars 134 and 36 are simply not something I'm used to playing. Obviously, the 5th and 4th by themselves are easy, but once you combine with the rest of the chord it becomes quite hard to hit all the right notes, unless you have hands like Rachmaninoff. I've been trying to play them as legato as possible, so I've been using a lot of 4-5 fingerings playing those 5ths and 4ths, but maybe I need to lift and reposition my hand here. It's probably okay with all the pedaling going on, but it's hard to make it sound even and smooth when you lift your hand.
This is where it reminds me of Chopin's Op. 10-1 etude. Only not in the key of C major.
4) Thirds.
Well, this actually isn't as bad as I originally thought. The Chopin National Edition had some weird fingerings that I should have ignored earlier. Now, for Bar 168, I'm playing (52)-(31)-(42)-(31) and Bar 170 basically the same. But I haven't quite nailed it down yet.
1) Bar 35.
 |
| Chopin Piano Trio, Bar 35-37 |
The Chopin National Edition also suggested using the left hand to play some of the notes, as indicated by the dotted lines. Those definitely make it easier to play, although the left hand would have to do a lot more jumping around and I have been playing those notes heavier than that right hand, which is bad.
2) Broken 6ths, octaves, 10ths and 11ths
 |
| Chopin Piano Trio, Bar 69-70 |
3) Big broken chords
 |
| Bar 132-136 |
The big broken chord in 132 (and 131, not shown) isn't exactly trivial, but the ones in bars 134 and 36 are simply not something I'm used to playing. Obviously, the 5th and 4th by themselves are easy, but once you combine with the rest of the chord it becomes quite hard to hit all the right notes, unless you have hands like Rachmaninoff. I've been trying to play them as legato as possible, so I've been using a lot of 4-5 fingerings playing those 5ths and 4ths, but maybe I need to lift and reposition my hand here. It's probably okay with all the pedaling going on, but it's hard to make it sound even and smooth when you lift your hand.
This is where it reminds me of Chopin's Op. 10-1 etude. Only not in the key of C major.
4) Thirds.
 |
| Chopin Piano Trio, Bar 168-170 |
I don't know why Jan Ekier suggested for bar 168 (53)-(42)-(31)-(2/3 1) and essentially the same for Bar 170. (31)-(2/3 1) doesn't work that well for me (2/3 meaning either 2 or 3); and isn't moving the thumb like that the wrong fingering anyway?
Man, I didn't know having to play all the right notes make a piece so much more difficult.
There are a bunch of other things that are hard, mostly bringing some of the polyphonic stuff in the piano part. For the time being, I'm thinking the strings will detract attention enough so while I'm paying some attention to them, I'll try not to spend too much time worrying about that for now.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Piano Regulation
It's been a while since my last post. Mostly, it's because I haven't been as motivated to practice, and a large reason is because I feel like my Steinway B is more and more messed up. My arm and fingers kept hurting so I've reosrted to playing on my other electric piano. I've chronicled the downweights on my piano in an earlier post, and of course in additional to that there are a bunch of other issues as well.
I was especially unhappy with how Faust Harrison treated me. First off they charged a rather exorbitant amount (a grand), I thought, for a day's work, which came to something more like 5-6 hours. Secondly, even when I asked them to fix up some things after the humid summer, they dragged on their feet until it has been a few months and they refused to work on it unless I coughed up more money. I would have been more okay if it didn't end up being so messed up, but I found a different technician and he did a monstrously improved job.
So, Arpad Maklary, a Hungary who actually used to work on Zoltan Kocsis's piano, worked on my piano yesterday. He worked on a bunch of things, here are some of the ones I remember:
- Cleaned up the strings by getting rid of the oxidized surface. This has the effect of bringing out the overtones. This, amazingly, made the piano sound much more like a Steinway!
- Raised the levels of the hammers. Apparently, for some reason, the hammers earlier were sitting at around 47-48 mm from the strings. Arpad said the Steinway standard is 44.5 mm. This partially contributes to the piano feeling so heavy. The mechanics appears non-trivial to me because all the moving parts that go on in a piano action, but clearly overall, if the hammer is closer to the string, you would imagine the piano being a bit easier to play.
- Applying lucricants on various parts. Well, this is easy to understand. It reduces the friction at various places and helps both downweights and upweights, the "touch" of a note, etc.
- Replaced a few pins in the bushings. The low G and the 2nd-lowest E are a little sticky, even after lubricating the bushings. So he replaced them. And since I kept complaining about the low D (74 grams before regulation), he replaced that one too. Coupled with all the other work he did, the low D is now <56.7 g! (i.e. 10 quarters, my standard measurement). Nice.
- Tuning. I like his tuning. I don't think it's particularly magical, but stretching the lowest few notes and highest few notes by more than a few cents has very nice effects. The highest C he stretched it by 50 cents. The lowest A I think he stretched it by something ~ 25 cents? Now the bass has a nice sustaining, sororous sound and works very well as pedal notes etc. Playing the lowest C major triad chord sounds awful, however, but it's rarely used so it's okay. I recall that once, in Shanghai, a tuner who gives intruction at the Shanghai Music Conservatory and was the tuner for Lang Lang's piano came to tune my upright and I wondered why after he tuned it the chords in the lower register sound so out of tune. Now I know--they had the same reason.
There are a whole slew of other things he did that I don't remember or don't understand enough (like the backdrop(backcatch?), some screws, putting graphite on a certain part I don't know the name of, the height of the "click", and some others). But he was here from 10:30am to past 8pm--and I'll just say that in comparison, Faust Harrison absolutely ripped me off. My piano now actually sounds like a Steinway, plays like a Steinway and feels like a Steinway. From now on, if there are passages I can't play, I can no longer blame it on my piano :)
I was especially unhappy with how Faust Harrison treated me. First off they charged a rather exorbitant amount (a grand), I thought, for a day's work, which came to something more like 5-6 hours. Secondly, even when I asked them to fix up some things after the humid summer, they dragged on their feet until it has been a few months and they refused to work on it unless I coughed up more money. I would have been more okay if it didn't end up being so messed up, but I found a different technician and he did a monstrously improved job.
So, Arpad Maklary, a Hungary who actually used to work on Zoltan Kocsis's piano, worked on my piano yesterday. He worked on a bunch of things, here are some of the ones I remember:
- Cleaned up the strings by getting rid of the oxidized surface. This has the effect of bringing out the overtones. This, amazingly, made the piano sound much more like a Steinway!
- Raised the levels of the hammers. Apparently, for some reason, the hammers earlier were sitting at around 47-48 mm from the strings. Arpad said the Steinway standard is 44.5 mm. This partially contributes to the piano feeling so heavy. The mechanics appears non-trivial to me because all the moving parts that go on in a piano action, but clearly overall, if the hammer is closer to the string, you would imagine the piano being a bit easier to play.
- Applying lucricants on various parts. Well, this is easy to understand. It reduces the friction at various places and helps both downweights and upweights, the "touch" of a note, etc.
- Replaced a few pins in the bushings. The low G and the 2nd-lowest E are a little sticky, even after lubricating the bushings. So he replaced them. And since I kept complaining about the low D (74 grams before regulation), he replaced that one too. Coupled with all the other work he did, the low D is now <56.7 g! (i.e. 10 quarters, my standard measurement). Nice.
- Tuning. I like his tuning. I don't think it's particularly magical, but stretching the lowest few notes and highest few notes by more than a few cents has very nice effects. The highest C he stretched it by 50 cents. The lowest A I think he stretched it by something ~ 25 cents? Now the bass has a nice sustaining, sororous sound and works very well as pedal notes etc. Playing the lowest C major triad chord sounds awful, however, but it's rarely used so it's okay. I recall that once, in Shanghai, a tuner who gives intruction at the Shanghai Music Conservatory and was the tuner for Lang Lang's piano came to tune my upright and I wondered why after he tuned it the chords in the lower register sound so out of tune. Now I know--they had the same reason.
There are a whole slew of other things he did that I don't remember or don't understand enough (like the backdrop(backcatch?), some screws, putting graphite on a certain part I don't know the name of, the height of the "click", and some others). But he was here from 10:30am to past 8pm--and I'll just say that in comparison, Faust Harrison absolutely ripped me off. My piano now actually sounds like a Steinway, plays like a Steinway and feels like a Steinway. From now on, if there are passages I can't play, I can no longer blame it on my piano :)
Monday, October 18, 2010
Local and Global Considerations
Phrasing, as hard as it is, is about the treatment of a small number of notes. It could include your touch, your dynamics, etc. Musical consistency, on the other hand, is putting phrasing, dynamics, color, everything together in a consistent manner.
Excuse me for using science/engineering description: phrasing is a more "local" phenomenon, musical consistency is "global". And as we know, local optimization is much easier than global optimization.
I've been wondering what the word interpretation means in one of my earlier posts. I think musical consistency is pretty much the same thing. You think through a piece, you decide what you wish to tell the audience, or maybe just to yourself, and present it in your vision. A good vision, is likely logical and cohesive in a certain way, and that is what I mean by musical consistency.
I only thought of this when I watched a few masterclass clips--Mario Joao Pires, Susan Starr, and Schiff. (Yes, youtube is a great resourse.)
Maria had something to say about Beethoven's 32 variations in C minor. At the end of the theme, there are a few descending staccato notes. Instead of playing them strictly staccato, as the student did, she suggested thinking of them as portraying something ghostly. And if you do so, then the staccatos in the 1st variation must be a continuation of this sort--do not play staccatos on the G's, or at least not obvious staccatos. Otherwise, the consistency and logic is lost.
Susan Starr's student was working on Liszt's Dante Sonata. There, the consistency is achieved by making sure you follow tempo, and not put in arbitrary rubatos. It is easy to fall into the trap of changing your tempo when reaching a climax or a lull. This kind of rubato is also a local consideration.
Schiff's clip is short. It's on a Schubert sonata. The lesson here is that Schubert had measures clearly marked out, so just follow them. In the piece apparently it's easy not to play them that way--yet again, a local consideration.
It is after one starts considering a piece in its entirety that he starts entering the realm of true music appreciation. Listening for sensuous spots here and there is nice, but a whole new world will be opened up if you start thinking globally.
Replace all those "you"s with "I"s and that's exactly where I am standing right now. I've got a lot of global considerations ahead of me.
Excuse me for using science/engineering description: phrasing is a more "local" phenomenon, musical consistency is "global". And as we know, local optimization is much easier than global optimization.
I've been wondering what the word interpretation means in one of my earlier posts. I think musical consistency is pretty much the same thing. You think through a piece, you decide what you wish to tell the audience, or maybe just to yourself, and present it in your vision. A good vision, is likely logical and cohesive in a certain way, and that is what I mean by musical consistency.
I only thought of this when I watched a few masterclass clips--Mario Joao Pires, Susan Starr, and Schiff. (Yes, youtube is a great resourse.)
Maria had something to say about Beethoven's 32 variations in C minor. At the end of the theme, there are a few descending staccato notes. Instead of playing them strictly staccato, as the student did, she suggested thinking of them as portraying something ghostly. And if you do so, then the staccatos in the 1st variation must be a continuation of this sort--do not play staccatos on the G's, or at least not obvious staccatos. Otherwise, the consistency and logic is lost.
Susan Starr's student was working on Liszt's Dante Sonata. There, the consistency is achieved by making sure you follow tempo, and not put in arbitrary rubatos. It is easy to fall into the trap of changing your tempo when reaching a climax or a lull. This kind of rubato is also a local consideration.
Schiff's clip is short. It's on a Schubert sonata. The lesson here is that Schubert had measures clearly marked out, so just follow them. In the piece apparently it's easy not to play them that way--yet again, a local consideration.
It is after one starts considering a piece in its entirety that he starts entering the realm of true music appreciation. Listening for sensuous spots here and there is nice, but a whole new world will be opened up if you start thinking globally.
Replace all those "you"s with "I"s and that's exactly where I am standing right now. I've got a lot of global considerations ahead of me.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Accents -- The Phrase-Breakers and Rhythm-Markers
Accents--they feel like they're anti-phrasing, especially on the piano. The piano is percussive as is, accented notes almost feel like they're just emphasizing the shortcomings of the instrument.
For piano pieces by the likes of 20th century composers like Prokofiev and Bartok, accented notes seem natural and appropriate. It's like revealing the true nature and ambitions of the piano, instead of trying to make it into a legato instrument which it is not. Perhaps it's for that reason I've always like 20th century music more than the Romantic era. I have to admit, however, that it doesn't explain why I'm a Debussy and Ravel fan.
So what to do about accents in music where the composers were trying to make the piano sing? I haven't had a clue, up until today, when I'm studying the Chopin Trio. My understanding thus far, comprises of the two following points, although if you think about them they're kind of related:
1) Phrase-Breaking
The past couple of months I've been thinking about how to phrase a line on the piano. I realized that the human ear is sensitive to contextual input, and this illusionary effect is perhaps the only reason why the piano can sound legato to us. So, to insert accents in a phrase is just doing the opposite. You are actively disrupting the phrasing. Example:
According to the National Edition, the first accent (more accurate, the first marcato) isn't even an accent--it's a one-note diminuendo. In any case, it's the accent circled in blue I'm referring to. Instead of ending the phrase, you put an emphasis on it. It totally disrupts the flow of the phrase.
This has such a profound effect that it almost sounds unnatural. How do you make it not sound so abrupt? That brings me to my second point.
2) Rhythm-Marking
Musicians often put a slight accent on, or at least pay more attention to, the beginning of every measure. This rhythm marking function of an accent is about as natural as it comes. In fact, many dances are differentiated by merely which beat the accent is placed.
So I think the only way to make the example above (start of Chopin's Piano Trio 2nd Mov) is to somehow establish a rhythm very quickly. You have exactly two chances to do it--third beat of measure 1 and third beat of measure 2. Can you (read: I) pull it off?
Speaking of dances, the 4th movement of the piano trio is effectively a Krakowiak, in the style of Chopin's Rondeau de Concert, Op.14. It is there I realized this second function of the accent:
Notice all the martalletos circled in blue. They define the character of at least the opening of this movement and is something the performer must impart to the audience. It doesn't come naturally to me but you're just have to get a feel for it, maybe by listening to Chopin's Opus 14, which sounds very similar to this movement at times, or other Krakowiaks.
There are other functions of accents... like a slight pause in music for added drama, etc. But I don't have good examples as of yet, so I'll hold off that thought for later.
For piano pieces by the likes of 20th century composers like Prokofiev and Bartok, accented notes seem natural and appropriate. It's like revealing the true nature and ambitions of the piano, instead of trying to make it into a legato instrument which it is not. Perhaps it's for that reason I've always like 20th century music more than the Romantic era. I have to admit, however, that it doesn't explain why I'm a Debussy and Ravel fan.
So what to do about accents in music where the composers were trying to make the piano sing? I haven't had a clue, up until today, when I'm studying the Chopin Trio. My understanding thus far, comprises of the two following points, although if you think about them they're kind of related:
1) Phrase-Breaking
The past couple of months I've been thinking about how to phrase a line on the piano. I realized that the human ear is sensitive to contextual input, and this illusionary effect is perhaps the only reason why the piano can sound legato to us. So, to insert accents in a phrase is just doing the opposite. You are actively disrupting the phrasing. Example:
 |
| Chopin Piano Trio, 2nd Mov, Bar 1-2 |
According to the National Edition, the first accent (more accurate, the first marcato) isn't even an accent--it's a one-note diminuendo. In any case, it's the accent circled in blue I'm referring to. Instead of ending the phrase, you put an emphasis on it. It totally disrupts the flow of the phrase.
This has such a profound effect that it almost sounds unnatural. How do you make it not sound so abrupt? That brings me to my second point.
2) Rhythm-Marking
Musicians often put a slight accent on, or at least pay more attention to, the beginning of every measure. This rhythm marking function of an accent is about as natural as it comes. In fact, many dances are differentiated by merely which beat the accent is placed.
So I think the only way to make the example above (start of Chopin's Piano Trio 2nd Mov) is to somehow establish a rhythm very quickly. You have exactly two chances to do it--third beat of measure 1 and third beat of measure 2. Can you (read: I) pull it off?
Speaking of dances, the 4th movement of the piano trio is effectively a Krakowiak, in the style of Chopin's Rondeau de Concert, Op.14. It is there I realized this second function of the accent:
 |
| Chopin Piano Trio, 4th Mov., Bar 1-8 |
There are other functions of accents... like a slight pause in music for added drama, etc. But I don't have good examples as of yet, so I'll hold off that thought for later.
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