Piano Pedagogy: What's Up With Method Books?

   

    Some months ago, a pedagogy student asked if I could name three method books. Well, it's been decades since I taught piano pedagogy, but I pointed out that to the best of my knowledge there is really no such thing as a methodbook. These days they tend to be in series and include tangential materials such as theory, contest pieces and general repertoire.                    

        

All of this I related while racking my brain for some titles. The most recent I knew of at that time was by a professor at the University of Utah written by Reid Nibley, a competent pianist but inept teacher. I know this from personal experience. Another title that popped into my mind was by Leila Fletcher. And if you know that name, you probably should be retired by now, though I see some of her volumes are available as relics. Her approach relied heavily on middle C and was criticized for that. Naturally, that was the one I chose to use when I took the required pedagogy course as an undergraduate—this 

despite the teacher's disdain. (I was a minor rebel at that time.) Then, there was the method assigned to me when I began my own piano studies. It was called "The Adult at the Piano," by Bernice Frost, published in 1949.  (I know.) Naturally, as a ten-year-old I was flattered by the title. 

    Ms Frost was a well-know writer and pedagogue from New York who had come to Los Angeles to teach a summer class at USC. The class was designed to demonstrate to university piano majors methods of teaching piano in groups. It was in my view at the time—and in hindsight—enormously effective. I thrived. Even my older brother relished the easy diminished seventh chords he could splash up and down the piano, that is until he discovered football. And of course, my mother was thrilled because the class was free.

The Adult at the Piano by Bernice Frost, Book 1, First Piece
Screen Grab

    I was able to locate on Ebay volume one of Frost's method. It is being offered for sale at $39, an antique to be sure. (For the new copy, I probably paid $.75 at most.) It is missing its pale green cover (I remember!), but the still-familiar font drew me instantly back to that WWII barracks on the USC campus where we dozen or so students began our piano study. We sat two to an upright and I, for one, reveled in the roar we could create.

    Notice that the method begins already with one sharp. The grand staff with its mysterious clefs challenged us right from the beginning. Introduced without fanfare are slurs, a single left-hand note in each phrase and even pedal. There are half and whole-note rests, a time signature and a tempo indication. And notice, too, the absence of stories, cute pictures or bold colors. Of course, we adults required no such handicaps.

  Today, there are many imaginative methods for younger beginners, who are of course attracted to cuteness and bold colors. The list is endless: Alfred, Bastien, Faber & Faber are very popular and probably effective. They are decorated with images that, to my eye, seem cluttered and distracting. But then I'm probably too old. (I have to find a young person to show me how to use my iPhone.) Interestingly, Suzuki, also very popular, has few or none of the distractions. (I've noticed that students who come up through the Suzuki method often possess significant skill and a strong work ethic, but often have difficulty reading music.) I like the no-nonsense approach, though, "notes and rhythms r'us." So much single-line rote playing is problematic.

       I once took a studio class in oil painting. It was supposed to be for beginners, but more experienced artists were also admitted. The first assignment was to paint something. Presumably then the teacher would come around and critique. What!? That's a bit like telling the beginning piano student at his first lesson to play something. I'm here to suggest, ever so gently, that we teachers focus on the how to as well as the what. It almost doesn't matter what materials the teacher chooses. It could be published books, colorful or not, or materials of the teacher's own creation. I propose, even with young children, that an introduction to how the body works at the piano should be included, no matter how minimal, along with the score. (This was not possible in a group setting.) Children, of course, usually respond better with gesture than they do with cascades of words. This approach will direct the teacher to each student's particular technical needs right from the beginning. The technique will be attached to the notes and the music. Naming method books is really not all that important.

    But I have another reason to look back fondly to my piano beginnings. I learned to see what's on the

page, to read. There was nothing but the music to attract my attention. This may be something to consider when choosing a method book. Sometimes I'm asked how I learned to sight-read tolerably well. By sight-read I refer to the ability to make music at first sight, accurately and in tempo including whatever is on the page. There is not really a definitive answer, of course. I can speculate, though, that having such a start contributed. It is likely, too, that I am among those who are oriented visually, and during my developmental years I was called upon to produce results in the moment, working with other musicians in church and in school.

    I encourage us all to consider the needs of the student. Does she respond best to cartooned pages or is he an adult at the piano? Should we turn to the shelf to grab what is easy, or do we devise our own materials? Are we astute enough to spot potential physical problems and should we intervene gently by touch, or is it best to let it ride for awhile? Teaching is a joyous challenge at all levels, and if we resist the urge to take the easy way out by making arbitrary choices of method, it can even be more rewarding.

    For more reading, have a look here:

Piano Technique Demystified

The "Valkyrie"of the Piano"

 

    A show of hands, please. Who can name the great virtuoso pianist, singer, conductor and composer from Venezuela, born in 1853, who enjoyed an international career and hobnobbed with the likes of Rossini, Gounod and Liszt, among many others? Who also played at the White House for Abraham Lincoln? Who performed under conductors Gustav Mahler, Hans von Bülow and Edvard Grieg? Who counted among her (oops) four husbands Eugen d'Albert?

    When I think of great female pianists who conquered the largely male world of concert pianists, I usually think of Clara Schumann, who was indeed the first, but not the only. Teresa Carreño was a truly remarkable woman. I highly recommend taking a look at this video presented by KUSC: Open Ears

    There exists a Welte Mignon piano roll from 1905, which purports to be an accurate representation of her playing Chopin's first Ballade. You can listen to it here: G Minor Ballade. The brilliant passages seem artificially fast to me. You be the judge.

Playing Softly on the Piano: Does Banging Out the Notes Help?

 

    A pianist writes:  "My piano has a heavy action  and tone production is a challenge - either too loud

  Hans von Bülow

 or no sound. I found this comment from Hans von Bülow (writing on Chopin's etude Op. 25 No. 2): 'That an ideal pianissimo, an accentless equality, can only be the result of loud and strongly accentuated practice, needs no explanation.' I find this works like magic - I don't even have to do it for very long. My question is: Is there any other solution to this problem?"

     

    My answer:  Yes, there is another solution. Let me say first, though, that if you've found something that works, I don't want to be the one who takes that away from you. However, what you describe sounds as if you are practicing X in order to achieve Y. This is the long way around the barn. 

     Hans von Bülow was a very distinguished pianist and conductor of the nineteenth century. A student of Franz Liszt, he was the first to perform Liszt's B Minor sonata. I find myself wondering how Mr. von Bülow came to the conclusion he reached. He was a child prodigy and likely had many natural gifts, perhaps only later attempting to figure out what it was he did. My correspondent finds that over-playing works for him. This leads me to think that it is more the working-in, the learning of the notes that is involved here. Playing with extra weight does not teach the playing apparatus what it feels like to play with the correct weight.

    When pianists have trouble controlling dynamics at the lower end, it is usually because they resort to fingers only, cutting off the forearm, which is the limb that controls downward weight.  Arm weight, by the way, is the result of a forearm rotation into the key; it is not an up and down movement. (For a demonstration of forearm rotation, see under the iDemos tab.) Even in soft playing, we still have to depress the key to just beyond the point of sound, where the finger is at rest. (I can hear my teacher now, "Dear, the piano is down.") The softer dynamic is controlled by applying less forearm weight, not by withholding it, resorting to fingers only. This is like walking on eggshells. Again, we don't change the way we depress the key when changing the dynamic.

    The action of a piano should not feel "heavy." Legend has it that when choosing a concert piano, Martha Argerich blows on the keys to test its response. If your piano is not well-regulated, your attempts to control lower dynamic levels may be thwarted because each key has a different point of sound. 

Heads Up, Teachers: New Piano Music

      We pianists have an advantage over other musicians. We command a wide range of sonorities and, well, a wide range of pitches. It's no wonder then, that so many composers come from a keyboard background. I've always felt that piano students who explore composition have an added insight into the innards of music, giving them a leg up in the profession.

I'm happy to announce that an emerging piano
student of mine, Carlos Gardels, is also an emerging composer of music for piano. (No, I don't teach composition.) He has recently published "Three Fantasies," available through Theodore Presser (Presser). Teachers who participate in festivals and competitions are always on the lookout for the "American" category or the "Modern" category. Have a look at these imaginative, lyrical excursions into "fantastical escapes from reality."

     You can listen to the composer's demos here: Prelude, Cosmic Lullaby, Intermezzo

Anton Arensky Variations on a Theme of Tchaikovsky for Piano, Four Hands

Reduced from $9.00 to $5.84

      As part of a continuing effort to help pianists expand their experience of music beyond the eighty-eight keys, I offer this volume of exhilarating Romanticism. It's one thing to listen, but quite another to work out musical issues with a partner to explore more deeply into the nuts and bolts of the music. And partnerships help develop listening and sight-reading skills. So what's not to like?

    This set of variations is the celebrated string-orchestra composition by one of Russia's most romantic composers, which I've transcribed for piano, four hands. Here you will find idiomatic piano figures that are both easy and somewhat challenging. 

     The variations began life as the slow movement of Arensky's String Quartet No. 2 in A minor, Op. 35, for the unusual scoring of violin, viola, and 2 cellos. Written in 1894, the year after the death of Tchaikovsky, it is a tribute to that composer. The theme is from the song "Legend," the fifth of Tchaikovsky's sixteen Children's Songs, Op. 54. Tchaikovsky's song was inspired by a poem  called "Roses and Thorns" by the American poet Richard Henry Stoddard. At the first performance of Arensky's quartet, the slow movement was so well received that Arensky soon arranged it as a separate piece for string orchestra, Op. 35a, in which form it has remained among the most popular of all Arensky's works.

    Visit Amazon to have a look:

    Arensky                                                                      

      
    Some piano folks are understandably not very familiar with this Russian composer from the Romantic era, as he did not write extensively for piano. So, here is a recording of the original version for string orchestra:

Listen here: Arensky Variations 

Enslavement to the Notation: Chopin Preludes 1 and 8

 

     A student pianist cites a "raging debate" as to whether the thumb note in Chopin's Prelude No. 8 should be held.  Some debaters were of the opinion that "in all Chopin, notes are to be physically held for their notated duration." No sources were cited. Others insisted that Chopin himself would not have held the notes. The student wants my opinion as to whether Chopin said anything definitive about this issue of holding notes. 

Chopin's Prelude No. 8

     This issue is at the heart of many (most?) technical problems that uninformed pianists suffer. It is about enslavement to the notation, particularly in music of the romantic period and beyond (I include Beethoven, particularly in his late period). My mantra: The score tells us what the music sounds like, not how it feels in our hands. To my knowledge, Chopin is not on record as having said "don't hold those notes." He did say, however, over and over again, that "flexibility" and "freedom" are of extreme importance. 

     I can't imagine he would have held down those notes. Their lengths and melodic importance are indicated with the quality of sound. To the nay sayers I would point out that in Prelude No. 8 as well as Prelude No. 1, Chopin has indicated pedal for the entire measure. Holding down both the note and the pedal seems to me like two jobs where one will suffice. I opt for the easier one, the one that gives me freedom.

Chopin's Prelude No. 1