“Music is a moral law. It gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness, and life to everything. It is the essence of order, and leads to all that is good, just and beautiful, of which it is the invisible, but nevertheless dazzling, passionate, and eternal form.”
Plato

Piano Voices from the Past

      

A student recently brought Brahms's Op. 117, No. 1, the first of three "lullabies of my grief," as the composer described them. This first one always strikes me as being like a barcarolle, waves gently slapping the sides of a small boat. Of course, the image of a baby rocking in a cradle will also do nicely—perhaps hanging from a bough? (There is, though, an undercurrent of melancholy.) 

     We decided that it wasn't necessary to do much at all in terms of

rubato; the notes played evenly in a slow two (slight pulse on one, less on two) with a singing tone would suffice. Normally, I suggest that advanced students workout for themselves the inner meanings, not that music can really communicate specific thoughts. Creating moods, though, is the creative domain of the introspective pianist and sometimes visiting the distant past by means of recordings can draw out a personal point of view. 

     Carl Friedberg was a student of Clara Schumann and mentored by Brahms, himself. Here's his recording of said piece, age 81.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i4-oOizOgVU

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