“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

Debussy's Arabesque Number One: Easier than it Looks



     A student complains that after much effort he's
Claude Debussy 1862-1918
unable to master measures 34-36 in Debussy's Arabesque Number One, an early exploration of the composer's still emerging impressionism. Debussy reportedly sought to represent in music the Art 
Gustav Klimt, Art Nouveau
Nouveau style, one in which visual art mimics shapes in nature. He was also apparently enthralled with music of the Baroque, a time "when music was subject to the laws of beauty inscribed in the movements of Nature herself.”

Arabesque No. 1, MM 31-38
Claude Debussy
      The student explains that he's "making every effort not to cling to the keys, especially the thirds. But, especially when playing the second and third note of each triplet, there's a sense of reaching for
Art Nouveau in Architecture
the next third." 
This student is already on the right track, having rejected the editor's fingering and added his own, playing all of the thirds with 5-3. He has also identified the technical problem, though perhaps without realizing it: clinging to the keys. He feels "tight and tangled up."

      The solution to this problem comes under the heading "The score tells us how the music sounds, not how it feels in our hands." It's a grouping issue primarily, with a hint of shaping. Begin each group with the thumb and shape a little under to the chord, which will be a little higher. Get off of the chord in order to land back on the next thumb, which helps send the hand to the next chord. The pedal will disguise any unwanted disconnect. For an enhanced illusion of legato, voice the chords firmly to the top. (Click the image to enlarge.)
Debussy Arabesque No. 1
MM 31-38 with technical suggestions

     If there is a sense of stretching from the second finger to the chord, as you play the second finger, angle the arm/hand slightly in the direction of the music, to the right. This allows the hand to be closer to the chord and open a bit more without stretching. When the hand is flat and directly perpendicular to the keys, as this student's hand appears to be in the video he supplied, it is less flexible. Remember, we can be at any angle with the keyboard as long as we remain straight with the finger/hand/arm alliance.







     I hope this helps.


Solfeggietto by C.P.E. Bach: A question of Fingering

C.P.E. Bach
1714-1788
     My student, diligent as always, brought the little Solfeggietto by Bach's famous son, Carl Philipp Emanuel. He proudly offered  a revised fingering, one that corresponds to principles I teach. That is, notes that move in the same direction are often grouped together. This concept, however, does not always apply to fingering. He proposed the following: (Click image to enlarge.)


C.P.E Bach Solfeggietto, MM 1-2
Awkward Fingering


     Notice that this fingering does encompass the entire triad and its octave, all notes that move in the same direction. Notice, too, that notating the middle C in the bass clef seems to argue in favor of playing it with the LH.  Logistically, though,  the LH hand is perhaps too much in the neighborhood when the RH gets to play, creating choreographic congestion.  I propose the following, which, if memory serves is in the Emil Sauer edition:

      
The choreography in this version works more smoothly.
     So, if a passage feels awkward, look for a different solution. Start with fingering and don't be unduly swayed by the layout of the notation on the page. "The score tells us how the music sounds, not how it feels in our hands," to quote myself.


Grieg's Holberg Suite: Fingering

     A student writes: "I have a problem playing the
 alternating-hands fingering in Grieg's "Holberg
Ludvig Holberg
1684 –1754
Suite," op. 40, first movement. I find the alternating right and left hands so difficult that it makes me wonder if the design is to limit the tempo these sixteenth notes can go, or insure they will be played clearly and cleanly? I can go faster just playing the entire passages in the right hand!"

Edvard Grieg
1843-1907
     I respond that I'm embarrassed to admit I haven't explored Grieg's piano music much except for the concerto and the transcription of "Notturno." Originally known as "From Holberg's Time," the suite consists of dances in an 18th century style. I know the "Holberg Suite" from its string orchestra version, which is very compelling. But, apparently, the suite was originally for piano solo. It was Grieg's contribution to the two-hundredth anniversary celebration of the 17th -18th century playwright, Ludvig Holberg.
     The question of fighting with an uncomfortable fingering in the score when an easier one is available reminds me of something someone once said. Oh, wait. I  said it: "The score tells us how the music sounds, not how it should feel in our hands." So regardless of the fact that the uncomfortable fingering might be designed to slow us down or force us to play more cleanly, take the easier fingering. You can still decide on the tempo and clarity with a more agreeable fingering. So this student's instinct is correct, play the passage in the right hand. It is not necessary to alternate hands.
     Here is my suggested fingering and redivision between the hands: (Click the image to enlarge.)
Edvard Grieg, Holberg, Ist Movement

       

Pianists have Questions: Don't Be Afraid to Ask

     When I was a teenage pianist and intimidated by authority, it never occurred to me to ask a question. "What do you mean by 'get after that,'" I should have asked. "Your playing is dishonest" should have raised my hackles and brought about at least a raised eyebrow. 
       I had the privilege of studying under some great artist-teachers who had been child prodigies. They were doers rather than sayers, so probably didn't know very much about how they did it, technically speaking. One of the greatest pianists of the 20th century, Vladimir Horowitz, when
Vladimir Horowitz
asked to teach at the Juilliard School, famously replied, "I wouldn't know what to tell the students because I don't know how I do it."

         Now I know how to "get after" a technical problem and how to be "honest" technically. So, if any of you, dear readers, have a question, fire away and I'll try to help. When I first started this blog, I made a similar offer, but in the meantime the comments link broke. Sigh. I'm happy to report that it is repaired. If you would like to ask something, please be as specific as possible and I'll post a reply as soon as I can. 


Demystifying Bach: Introduction Continued

The Technique

         In these pages we consider the techniques, the how-tos, of coordinating more than one musical line. We learn to apply principles of grouping notes together and shaping lines in certain ways for technical ease. We consider possible fingerings,
sometimes more than one, depending on the desired effect. Often, technical solutions coincide with musical objectives. This makes us happy. But when there is a technical problem, we examine it on its own merits. No mindless rote here. 
Often in the text I refer to rotation. This is shorthand for forearm rotation, of which there are two types, single and double. The terminology is not important. Suffice it to say that single rotation is the sort applied
when changing direction with each note, as in a trill or an Alberti figure. Double rotation occurs when the finger moves both to and from notes that move in the same direction, as in a scale. 
        When the hands work together rotationally there are four applications: parallel left, parallel right, opposite inward and opposite outward. Parallel right means that the two hands both open to the right, then rotate back leftward into the note. Parallel left is the reverse. Opposite inward means that the hands both open with their backs toward each other. Opposite outward is the reverse, the palms are facing each other. I know it sounds confusing, but the applications are quite simple. Not only that, these are natural movements that the body will accept without complaint. 
          Occasionally a technical solution will require what I call a
walking hand or walking arm.  This is nothing more than a combination of rotation with a lateral movement and slight opening of the hand. Remember, the hand can be open without feeling stretched to an extreme. 
          Sometimes I use the word pluck to indicate a springing action away from a note. This is akin to what happens when bending the knees to create thrust from a diving board. I don’t necessarily mean that the note is staccato. This movement is always tiny and propels the hand laterally, not vertically. In a leap, this plucking action achieves the distance to the point over the desired landing spot. Gravity and rotation then help create the note.
          If a passage of counterpoint feels uncoordinated, it is very
likely that one hand is trying to do what the other is doing. The best way to solve these issues is to first examine the type of forearm rotation required in each hand separately. Then, feel them together. The hands can be a little stupid sometimes. They need to be shown what the mind knows. 
            (For a video demonstration of the aforementioned, click on the iDemos tab at the top of the page and select Inventions and Sinfonias.)
           To be continued:

Demystifying Bach At the Piano: Introduction

INTRODUCTION
      

        
  
    We pianists are both blessed and cursed. On the one hand we glory in the totality of musical possibility, controlling as we do 
massive sonorities. We can be the entire string quartet, the singer and accompanist, the full orchestra. We learn at an early age to be horizontalists, the producers of a musical line.  We learn that music exists in time and travels logically from point A to points farther along an horizontal continuum. This is all good.
        On the other hand, when confronted with competing horizontal lines, we are called upon to rethink our predilection for spinning a single line beautifully to the right. Students suffer the shock of having to abandon preconceived notions of technique, at least for the amount of time it takes to organize more than one line traveling together at the same time along the same continuum. Yes, and to some this may seem sacrilege, but we must think more vertically. 
        Mastering contrapuntal playing at the piano is about physical coordination. What do the two hands feel like at crucial points
where the multiple voices come together vertically? Since the piano is down—we play down into the key—the feeling where voices come together is a combined down.  I know, this flies in the face of our notion that music moves laterally.
Bach was a teacher. In his day, teaching was not only about keyboard facility, but included elements of composition and style. In short, Bach taught music. In his preface to the Inventions and Sinfonias, he explains that he has created an “honest method” for the purpose of learning to play “clearly” first two parts, then three
parts. Along the way he hoped the “amateur” would develop, in addition to the ability to handle all the parts well, “good ideas.” He writes that “above all” the player should “achieve a cantabile style in playing and acquire a strong foretaste of composition.”
      Let’s talk about cantabile. This is my favorite Bach quote. I raise it whenever I encounter a pianist who attempts a harpsichord facsimile on the modern piano. You know the type of player I mean. This is someone who feels that all Bach playing is detached. (More about articulation later.) Even the great harpsichordist Wanda Landowska declared that her playing was connected, not detached. I understand why some pianists do this. They hope to imitate the quill plucking the strings. In the process they discard the natural reverberation that plucking produces. 
We know that Bach favored the clavichord for its ability to
Clavichord
produce nuanced inflections, not unlike a piano, though very much more subtle. The clavichord was an entre nous instrument, its sound intimate and not designed for a modern concert hall. It seems to me Bach had this reference in mind when he wrote that his music should be expressive in the way that singing can be expressive. In the above-referenced preface Bach gives us leave to use the resources of the piano.

So here we have a conundrum. On the one hand we are to play the parts clearly, but at the same time be expressive. No worries. We can separate out the two parts of the puzzle and put them back together again. Bach would be proud. 
        To be continued...