“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

Pianists in Performance: What Should I Think About?


     Have you ever experienced in performance what I call mind
chatter? This is an interruption in the logical flow of musical thought. It can occur without even noticing; the focus of the playing seems intact, but there is some peripheral distraction. This is akin to being in a theater thoroughly entranced by a film, yet at the same time aware that someone has come in and sat down next to you.
     
     This concept came up the other day during a lesson in which the student found herself caught somewhere between reading the score and playing from memory. I pointed out that memorizing was the surest way to make the music a part of her psyche. It does not matter in performance whether the score is present or not. But if it is present, the player has to know when and where to look, where on the page is the passage in question. This, then, becomes part of the thought process. 
     The great harpsichordist Wanda Landowska, a musician who many thought had a direct line of communication with Bach in the great beyond, was once being interviewed by some eager young
Wanda Landowska
admirer. "Oh, Madame Landowska, when you play I feel the presence of Bach himself. The music speaks to me in such a special way. Tell me, please, what do you think about when you perform?" To which the great lady replied, "The notes, dear, the notes."

     Well, yes, first the notes. But probably not in isolation. The notes are connected to an idea of their relationship to one another and to some concept of how smaller ideas add up to the whole of the piece. When we sit down to play, we must start with the big ideas. In speed, it is impossible to conceive of individual notes. It is better to be like the orator who speaks off the cuff, who embraces his audience with his full attention and speaks warmly and enthusiastically of the big ideas he finds compelling, rather than the public speaker who, not really wanting to be there, reads with precision from a printed speech. Of course, in addition to being inspiring, we pianists are required to be precise, too.
     Once when performing the fugue in Beethoven's Op. 110 sonata, I became aware, suddenly, that in addition to feeling the mounting excitement of the passage, I heard an inner voice chanting, "come on, Beethoven." This was a sort of cheering section, encouraging me on to victory. This had never happened before, but I suspect it had to do with an underlying apprehension of playing a fugue from memory, even though I had already done it many times. I'm happy to report that we were victorious, Beethoven and I.
     Every performer is different, just as each occasion can inspire different results, I think it comes down to this: Whatever we can latch on to that keeps us in the groove, that keeps us focused on the expression of the music, that is fair game; whatever works. But beware the voice that asks what's for supper. Slap him down and get back to the matters in hand.
     

Crossing Hands at the Piano: Jascha Heifetz and "Frère Jacques"

Jascha Heifetz
     The great violinist Jascha Heifetz had his studio on the second floor of Clark House at USC, northwest corner. It was across the hall from Muriel Kerr's studio, where one afternoon when I arrived for my piano lesson, I heard much giggling and what sounded like beginners playing "Frère Jacques" as a round. I didn't want to interrupt, so I waited. Just as I was about to knock, the door opened and there I was face to face with the master himself, Heifetz in the flesh. We had had encounters before, not necessarily unpleasant, but if truth be told, a little scary. He could seem quite severe. So there we were, face to face and I felt my
tongue wrap itself into a series of knots. But no matter, without so much as cracking a smile, he calmly explained as if it were the most normal of circumstances that he had been teaching Kerr how to play the round with hands crossed. And without stopping for a response, he strode across the hall and disappeared into his studio.
     It's not so easy. Try it.

Frère Jacques
     Heifetz could play the piano tolerably well. I suspect he thought this exercise would help develop something or other pianistically—coordination, independence—I don't really know. But as you know, gentle reader, if you've been paying attention to this blog, I am not a fan of practicing X in order to achieve Y. If you want some crossed-hands experience, look at Mozart K. 331, first-movement variations. Even in the Mozart, I might look for opportunities to uncross. In the Frère Jacques example, it isn't necessary to cross the hands, so there's really no reason to do it—except, oh, well, it's kind of fun.

     Kerr took great delight in showing me what she and Heifetz had been doing. I tried it. Fortunately, though, she didn't make me practice it.

Piano Puzzle: Appassionata, My Solution

Here is my preferred fingering. I take the lower octave B-flat on the second beat of measure two with the left hand. It's so much more fluent. Prepare the left-hand thumb by using third-finger D-flat as a hinge. Although possible, it is not necessary to cling to the top of the octave, the fifth-finger B-flat. Play it melodically.
Beethoven Op. 57 Fingering

Dame Myra Hess: Pianistic Heroine


     Readers of this blog will have noticed references to Tobias Matthay, distinguished British pianist and pedagogue.
Tobias Matthay
1858-1945
His scientific investigations into piano technique brought to him both distinction and controversy. He was perhaps the first to explore the role of the forearm as applied to the piano, although there are those of us who think he came upon this principle too late in life to fully understand its potential. 

    My favorite Matthayism is the title of one of his books, The Visible and Invisible in Piano Playing. Even without reading the book, the title itself conveys a very important concept—what we see is not necessarily what we get. Whatever the merits of his ideas, he was a much sought after teacher and some very successful pianists with major careers passed through his studio. Among them were York Bowen, Myra Hess, Clifford Curzon, Moura Lympany, Eunice Norton, Lytle Powell, Irene Scharrer, Lilias Mackinnon, Guy Jonson, Vivian Langrish and Harriet Cohen. One of my teachers at USC was collaborative pianist Gwendolyn Koldofsky, also from Matthay's studio. She enjoyed a fine performing career working with the likes of Lotte Lehmann, Hermann Prey and Marilyn Horne.
   
Dame Myra Hess
1890-1965
  I'm thinking now of Dame Myra Hess, heroine of the London concert scene during WWII. Hess sensed the need to boost morale in London at the start of the war, "as nothing was going on." So, she initiated concerts that were presented Monday through Friday at the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square. Even during the German Blitz, the concerts continued without fail, although they moved to a smaller, safer room. The schedule continue for more than six years, throughout the entire war. There were in all 1,968 concerts heard by 824,152 people. Hess appeared in 152 of them. Listen here to what is "not an interview," but rather a ten minute portion of a conversation with her recorded by radio commentator Jim Fassett in 1952. I think it is a wonderful portrait of a remarkable woman. There is another, more extensive interview from 1963. Once when asked by a reporter why she played from the score in a concerto performance, Dame Myra snapped back, "well, the band has theirs, why shouldn't I have mine." This alone has endeared her to me forever.

     Hess was noted for her interpretations of Mozart, Beethoven and Schumann, though she had a large repertoire, including new works. There are numerous recordings available, one of my favorites being this live performance of the Brahms D Minor concerto with Dmitri Mitropolous.




William Kapell's Recital

     I've made some corrections and additions to the Listen tab above. William Kapell's recital link has been repaired and I've added his performance of Liszt's Mephisto Waltz, a performance many feel is among the finest available. 
    When you have some extra time, listen to the variety of interpretations in the collection of ten great pianists of the 20th century as they play the Chopin Berceuse.

Piano Puzzle: Beethoven Appassionata, Op. 57

Beethoven

   Here's a brain teaser for you.  Look at the  example below. I think the editor devised the fingering while riding the bus to his regular day job. Try to find a more agreeable fingering for these measures. We want fluency and lyricism, not to mention ease of execution. The answer will appear in these pages in a few days. Your reward will be the satisfaction of knowing that you can make virtually any passage feel easy. Your friends will marvel at the brilliant glow of your new aura.
Beethoven Sonata Op. 57