As I revisited J.S. Bach’s memorable Sarabande movement from his French Suite No. 5, BWV 816, I stared at an Urtext score laden with ornaments of infinite variety –trills, mordents, parentheses showing upper and lower accents, loops on trills in opposite directions, etc. and to complicate matters, I was expected, by tradition, to improvise each section, adding more ornaments and original turns of phrases. What a challenge!
This time around, after having studied all Six French French Suites, and a large portion of the Little Preludes, I had a revelation that fleshing out a melody, undecorated by ornaments was the very first step in a sensible, layered learning process. Such a fundamental approach would prevent a reading from ornament to ornament in a mad pursuit of successive trills, turns, mordents etc. to cadence. (It’s easy to view a score as a map of these finger-trapping adornments that can become anticipatory landmines– fingers and hands freezing as they approach one symbol after another with surges of anxiety.)
Given the propensity to be intimidated by symbols that attach to what is primarily a melodic journey in the soprano, it’s best to go back to basics: Play a clean melodic line with contour and landscaping–shape it with relaxed wrists and arms, using a singing tone model. In practicing, be aware of Sequences that can invite intensity in ascent, or relaxation of dynamics in descent. In addition, Questions and Answers in four measure parcels or less should create an awareness of Responses and cadences. (temporary resting points)
When adding ornaments, “feel” the natural flow of the melody—and relax through an intricate design without tension-draining energy. Enjoy the ins and outs of these embellished perks of the melody, embracing a positive attitude. Playing beautifully has an underlying psychological component, so be attentive to natural “breathing” through quality repetitions in daily practice. (Spot practicing is important.)
Finally, a well-sculpted soprano melodic line filters through all voices, with or without ornaments. In Sarabande BWV 816, which is basically scored in three voices, the decorated top line, interacts with the tenor and bass that have opposing stems needing balance and delineation. For many learners, these lower lines tend to run into each other without contrast. To advance a satisfying synthesis of all voices, one must individually flesh out each of these lower voices for direction, contour, color, and balance. A stint of voice parceling, permuting Soprano and Bass, without and with the melodic ornaments; and practicing combinations such as Tenor and Bass, etc. help create a convincing rendering in the Baroque genre. Naturally, Harmonic Rhythm influences phrasing and is worth an analysis.
In these attached videos I apply the approach referenced in this posting.
With the passage of years, I don’t find memorization more difficult, but….different. When I was a teenager, I had a near-perfect visual memory and could memorize pieces just by mentally looking at the score when I played without the music. Until I had catastrophic memory slips in recital, that is. Then I learned to listen, to develop tactile memory, to understand what was going on in the form of the work, and to feel my way through the piece as well. Every five years or so I need to completely revamp the way I memorize.
Angela Hewitt’s article on memory in the Guardian looks at her own experiences with memory and how it has created a richness in her music-making, in spite of the continual risk:
Memory is a subject we don’t like to talk about – like sex, love and religious beliefs – most likely because we are afraid of losing it. It takes courage to admit even to yourself that your memory is failing. Often friends or family notice it first. We shouldn’t feel ashamed, but rather embrace this normal sign of ageing and then do all we can to keep our brains alive. It upsets me when I can’t remember where I’ve put my boarding pass, as happened this morning at Heathrow (only to find it in the outside compartment of my bag, where I must have put it five minutes previously); when I can’t remember if I’ve taken my daily HRT lozenge (now there’s something that helps older women with memory!); and when I make the same mistake over and over again when learning a new piece.
Angela’s remake on how to think ahead and multitask in memory work are elements worth considering, as is the tendency of older pianists to play slower, perhaps because of the slower processing speed of the aging brain. My adult students will be glad to hear that.
Since I began teaching piano Online in 2011, well before it gained pandemic driven popularity, I’d always felt the need to fill in what seemed to be distance related gaps in the Internet teaching environment. Compensating for my guilt-ridden, tradition-breaking, cyber teaching excursions on Face Time, I’d made sure to give my students an extra serving of video transmitted suggestions between lessons. It was compensation for my corporeal absence that might leave my students hungering for an over your shoulder mentor with a prying pencil to scribble fingering and dynamic reminders—Or as some kind of replacement for my eliminating the piano bench shuffle. (“May I demonstrate a phrase or two”—as the pupil is temporarily nudged out of his comfort zone and put on standby.)
However, as I roll the clock forward to 2023, I realize that all my guilt trips and compensatory efforts about teaching Online were needless.
Currently seated at my “work station” with a HP mega monitor and a QuickTime Record APP, I have no qualms about teaching remotely and regularly supplementing lessons with recordings of sessions in progress. For some students who have Zoom accounts, the recording option is nicely built into their platform sparing me a recording effort–though sometimes, I just want to isolate an issue, and will zone in on it with a shorter video rendering.
With my Face Time pupils, I have two computers running if I choose to record. The older Big iMac can record two view choices of my keyboard–one generated by the internal cam, (a profile), and the second one, activated by my Logitech webcam-model C-920. In practice, I prefer the over my shoulder webcam view since a student can more easily see both my hands at the keyboard joined to my arms and shoulders–a full upper body snapshot of myself seated squarely centered on the piano bench–allowing for leaning in opposing directions as I travel across the ivories. (well not exactly ivories–but a form of plastic that replaced the originals)
Finally, the content of the videos I send to pupils is bundled with important reminders about fingering, phrasing, tone, touch, nuance that over years seems to have promoted their musical growth. It’s an in between lesson feeding that satisfies the learning appetite.
A sampling of Lesson in Progress videos sent to students-These are recent recordings.
Raw video–no editing-sent to pupil–Back tempo suggestions–Burgmuller “La Petite Reunion”..Mood setting–various articulations, choreographies–light hearted staccato; seamless legato parallel thirds, nicely voiced, with nuanced groupings and direction–swells and retractions. Set a tempo that is consistent but with lyrical, tasteful rubato here and there. Preserve the singing tone in the Romantic, lyrical tradition, with phrases having direction and relaxed resolutions.
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Andante Cantabile, Mozart Sonata, K. 545–Excerpts–Lesson in Progress–phrase shaping, voicing (balance of Alberti bass and solo soprano melody.) Sequences–dynamics. (Raw, unedited video)
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Lesson in Progress–Claude Debussy, Girl with the Flaxen Hair–Tone, touch, phrasing
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Lesson in Progress segment of J.S. Bach Little Prelude in F Major, BWV 928 (Raw, unedited video)
This short segment focused on a bass voice that has a syncopation below the Subject in the Right Hand. The shaping of the two voices is explored. It’s a short segment that turned out to be one of 4 separate videos emailed to my pupil that explored BWV 928.
Video supplements are valuable teaching tools that can be archived by a student and revisited over time. For both a teacher and pupil, they provide an organized, growth promoting journey of exploration and discovery.
Back in 2011, when music lessons by webcam were viewed as out of the mainstream, bucking the traditional a face-to-face, in-person learning environment, I was nevertheless, lulled into cyberspace by an Australian subscriber to my You Tube channel. One day, he messaged me with a promise to send a Logitech webcam that would widen my teaching experience beyond the confines of a dual piano, walled-in music room.
My first Online lesson with the Sydney, Australian was on shaky ground due to my unfamiliarity with all the intricate steps needed to smooth out a lesson transition with satisfying audio/video dimensions.
That’s where his long-distance driven assistance eased a screen to screen exchange in a stepwise journey to proper Settings and adjustments. In those days, I simply clipped the Logitech webcam to the top of my iMac 21 inch computer, unaware that the internal big Mac cam might have have sufficed. But while I could direct the Mac’s big screen (Face Time view) toward my Steinway keyboard, the addition of the Australian’s Logitech webcam provided a wider, more defined keyboard aspect, though to its discredit, the cam’s internal mic (for Audio) produced a hot zone driven sound distortion that to this day, I do not enlist. Instead, I always set my audio to a USB connected Yeti mic.
The above photo depicts an early 2011 Online piano lesson transmitted from Fresno CA to Sydney, Australia using the Skype platform with a split screen view. As years passed, I transitioned from Skype to Face Time and alternately, Zoom. While I’m still using an old version of Face Time Call Recorder that has since timed out on new computers, I’m able to record Online lessons with 3 view choices: LOCAL view (my own keyboard on full screen); REMOTE (the student’s keyboard) and SPLIT SCREEN which cuts the length of respective student and teacher keyboards. However, the old Mac, having had two hard drive replacements is no longer my lesson giving mainstay though it still assists in the recording cosmos.
My modern day set-up, having evolved over 12 years, adds enhancements that greatly improve cyber lesson transmission. While the venerable and original iMac 21 moved from the Central Valley to California’s East Bay in 2012, MAC, as mentioned, no longer hosts my webcam driven lessons. Instead, my newer 2019 Mac Air (connected to an HP monitor–27″ screen) is powered up on the FACE TIME platform or on Zoom. (HP monitor details:HP 27er 27-Inch Full HD 1080p IPS LED Monitor with Frameless Bezel and VGA & HDMI (T3M88AA) The Mac Air’s Dongle (with added USB ports) connects a Yeti Mic, and one tripod mounted webcam directed at my Steinway grand’s keyboard.
The aging MAC, sitting to left of the 2019 Mac Air, has an older form of iMovie, version 9.09, with its integrated Quicktime App, that easily records (with an attached Yeti mic) my tutorials, performances, uploaded to You Tube. More importantly, iMac 21’s Quicktime also affords in-progress recordings of ONLINE lessons (using its internal cam, or another tripod connected webcam mounted in the area of my piano sculpture.) Recordings of lessons enlisting the older Big Mac are uploaded UNLISTED to You Tube, and sent to students with practicing reminders.
In order to better picture the process, I will have TWO computers running at the same time during LIVE lessons. The Mac Air connected to the big screen 27″ HP monitor shows the student at his/her keyboard, while the Big Mac provides a FACE TIME internal cam generated profile view of myself at the piano–the latter view is only seen by pupils when I send them uploaded, recorded excerpts of their lessons. (It’s a Quicktime APP) This profile or side view afforded by the Big Mac nicely demonstrates supple wrist and relaxed arm motions. (I can also use a web cam mounted alternate view that is a more angled profile–again generated by the Big Mac)
Pupils with Zoom Accounts, however, can rely on themselves to record their complete lessons in full screen or in split screen.
Finally, to reduce all the complexities bundled into a studio bustling with cams, mics, tripods, big and small screens, I’ve attached my latest video-“Having Fun with a New Piano Studio HP Monitor!”
During my many years of teaching piano, nurturing students along of diverse backgrounds and levels, I never imagined that I would find myself channeling music into a form of local activism. But it’s happened here in Berkeley, California on Hopkins Street, with its lovely stretch of trees and quaint shops owned my merchants of many cultures whose employees are a rainbow of minorities.
Upper Hopkins (the Eastern portion of the “Hopkins Corridor”) is lined with the Monterey Fish Market, The Bottle Shop, Gioia’s Pizza, The Hopkins Bakery, Asaka Sushi and Bar, Raxakoul Coffee & Cheese, Magnani’s Poultry, the treasured Monterey Market, Cafe Roma, and various hair salons that are leisurely steps from each other. (Hopkins Hair and Elixir) Add to the mix, two Realty companies, Northbrae, Red Oak, and the long established Hopkins Launderette that sits beside Roma.
For years, “our” merchant family enjoyed a special bond with faithful consumers coming from the immediate area (on the “flats”), into the Berkeley Hills and well beyond.
For the aging population residing in the Hills, a car has always been a necessity as shopping accrues bags of groceries that cannot be otherwise transported without physical challenge. The disabled, in particular, rely on their automobile when shopping, along with many others who need places to park that are within easy range of the merchants.
For pedestrians, who regularly traverse Hopkins as shoppers and/or fitness enthusiasts, the challenge of safely crossing streets without a traffic signal, can be daunting. It’s not just SUVs and smaller vehicles that run Stop signs in their haste–but motorized E-Bikes and E-Scooters pose additional perils. The bikes can travel from 20 mph, to 28 mph in some cases, and without a license or insurance requirement, these engine bearing bikes often blaze through Stop signs (though prohibited by California law) The old-fashioned, generic bikes, that many of our parents purchased for $50 to $100 or more, are currently upended by the German and Netherlands manufactured motor bikes that can run from $3,500 to $10,000 depending on options and accessories. In this climate (no pun intended) who can afford them? Is gentrification an element of a movement to rid Hopkins of cars!
And here’s where a set of troubling issues have arisen amidst the charm of Hopkins with its neighborly merchants and loyal brood of shoppers. The City of Berkeley (that includes the Mayor, City Manager, City Council members, and Transportation Division Manager/consultants) want to dig up Hopkins at its narrowest, and install dual track bike lanes with concrete dividers, going in opposite directions on one side of the street. This incursion will cause a huge loss of parking spaces that will impact the full length of Hopkins from one end to the other. The plan as designed will also confuse pedestrians trying to cross amidst multiple stop sign lanes, (children on bikes, beside motored ones) while drivers in neighboring lanes, and those turning left onto Hopkins will be disoriented. In so many words, the City of Berkeley’s one size fits all agenda of Complete Streets and Vision Zero, powered by the influence of Bike lobbies, is fueling a war on social media–Next Door being the nexus of insults, hurled back and forth.
Representing all Hopkins merchants, Paul Johnson, Monterey Fish owner, had the courage of conviction to make his voice heard loud and clear, when he addressed the City Council at one of its pivotal Hopkins Corridor meetings. (It was so perfectly in synch with what so many of us wanted to say but yet, we felt a sense of powerlessness in the face of well-funded lobbies crushing the voices of Hopkins residents)
Johnson said it succinctly: “I think we are all against putting bike lanes in the street. We all feel that the bike lanes would be better served to the area if they were put on side streets, and to run bike lanes through the commercial area just seems like–it seems so dangerous. It’s unbelievable! Particularly double bike lanes going up and down the street between parked cars. It’s a recipe for disaster.
“…. people are going to be run over. Nobody knows to turn left. It’s like when you go to London, and in the streets, the sign says ‘Look Right!’ It’s really gonna be a dangerous situation.
“…. you’re gonna be cutting down trees, ripping up sidewalks and everything else. It’s going to be endless. …I think pretty much we’re on the same side as the Hopkins Street residents.”
A local, aging resident, Effie Dilworth, expanded on Hopkins Corridor Plan problems in her Letter to the Berkeley Times.
“Currently, Hopkins is a two-way street with bicyclists moving either in the same lanes as the car traffic or between the parked cars and the traffic, and they are moving in the same direction as the cars. To turn left onto Hopkins from Carlotta, I do not have a clear view of what’s coming east (on my left), if there is a car parked at the SW corner on Hopkins; it requires creeping out a bit into the intersection. I believe the City is proposing the following for the south side of Hopkins; next to the curb will be two bike lanes, one in each direction; then a lane of parked cars; then the two lanes for cars and faster bikes moving east and west. Therefore, for me to make a Left turn onto Hopkins, I will be first watching for bike traffic that will be moving in two directions, crossing those two lanes, then creeping out beyond the parked cars to watch for cars and bikes traveling east, and finally, for cars and bikes going west in the lane I’m turning into. Can drivers be expected to navigate this multiplicity of lanes safely?”(MY COMMENT- can pedestrians likewise be expected to navigate this multiplicity of lanes safely?)
To add to rancor among warring factions regarding the Hopkins Corridor, Ageism surfaced early on as an issue–well fleshed out in a Berkeleyside Op-Ed by Donna DeDemier ( “a former Berkeley business owner and a self-identified ardent environmentalist.”) https://www.berkeleyside.org/2022/05/05/opinion-hopkins-corridor-pits-seniors-vs-young-people Donna and others eventually inspired a Save Hopkins movement that distributed signs as potent message makers to merchants, residents and neighboring supporters.
Bundled into Save Hopkins efforts, is an embracing Friends of Hopkins Street nonprofit organization that defines “an all-volunteer educational and advocacy group formed by and for Hopkins Street residents, neighbors, business owners, and friends. It “advocates equitable, safe, evidence-based, and common sense designs for Hopkins Street.” http://www.SaveHopkins.org
In the spirit of Saving Hopkins, I took three jaunts in and around my neighborhood, snapping photos of support signs– giving expression to my personal community activism. At first I used a generic music choice to accompany my photo slide show –soon to be followed by another “Save Hopkins Neighbors” video where I embedded recorded selections from Alexandre Tansman, (Pour Les Enfants). In a blitz of activism, I again explored the nooks and crannies of Hopkins, taking more photos of Save Hopkins signs, uploading them to the strains of a Domenico Scarlatti and J.S Bach. It was fun, cathartic and empowering!
My personal arm weight journey began at age 13, when I enrolled at the NYC High School of Performing Arts. The preceding summer, I’d been a music camper at Merrywood in Lenox, Massachusetts where I’d met student cellist, Douglas Freundlich who regaled his aunt Lillian as an exceptional, Manhattan-based piano teacher.
Such a name drop, well timed amidst Bach Brandenburg 5 rehearsals, inspired a musical life-changing event. In a deep well of frustration, partnered with a mentor at the time, who omitted a basic approach to singing tone production and whole arm relaxation techniques, I needed to be relieved of un-blissful ignorance and physical tension.
That’s when Lillian Lefkofsky Freundlich came into my life and made an eternal imprint that was her legacy to my practicing, recording, and teaching.
The first few lessons were singular immersions in dropping my arms with supple wrists and relaxed hands/fingers, onto individual keys. I was being sensitized to “tone” that was full and round–not punched, poked, or squeezed upon impact. The ingredients of “sound imagination” and kinesthetic awareness formed a worthy bond, that included relaxed breathing.
Lillian checked my shoulders, wrists, elbows and hands for any trace of tension, while she assessed the balance of each individual finger that had been dropped with a sense of earthbound gravity—without my resistance to a natural fall–never on “hard turf,” but welcomed into a bed of honey. (an invitation to a cosmos of “density” in piano playing)
These arm drops into one finger after another, well-balanced and centered on each key, were the mainstay of many lessons until they expanded into scales wrapped in a seamless legato–framed by effortless, deep breaths that kept them well spaced, and contoured with a supple wrist. (The various motions of forward wrist rolls, rotations, etc. eventually gave shape to phrases embedded in tonal beauty and musical expression that had welled within me but needed modeling and guidance for development.)
To describe in words, the “feeling” of these arm drops that blossomed into multi-note groupings, flowing through rollouts toward destinations–and often governed by harmonic rhythm–is a challenge.
Therefore, the following video demonstration of what Lillian Freundlich shared during my formidable years of piano study, fleshes out her gift, not only to me, but to my many student partners.
With time-honored articles proliferated about emotionally abusive piano teachers and their negative impact on students, it’s time to explore the ingredients of a positive, growth-affirming relationship between two parties striving toward the same goal of creative musical expression. Such a discussion that embodies week to week lessons, addresses an environment of nonjudgmental self-acceptance, patience, and a willingness to explore new ideas, springing from constructive, nurturant criticism. (This includes a seamless flow of ideas between pupil and teacher based on an equality of exchange without a POWER hierarchy.)
In this piano lesson cosmos, suggestions imparted by a teacher should in no way be personal attacks on students student’s difficulty in absorbing a revision; or not meeting a learning deadline or being fully practiced or prepared for a lesson. None of the aforementioned should have any legitimacy in a learning environment. Yet, in some instances, a student who’s had negative interactions with a previous teacher (s) may come to lessons with an overlay of distrust. (This same issue may apply to pupils whose parents were relentlessly authoritarian and regarded lessons as stepping stones to competitions – wins would, in some cases, advance future college admissions and enhance self-worth.) For some piano learners, attaining “first place,” and nothing short of it was the primary goal! (academic awards and decathlons included)
Some of these pupils, (now adults) burdened by a drone of past crippling value judgments and expectations, might view any teacher imparted suggestions as an assault on their personal adequacy–as putdowns or devaluations of self-worth, when they are nothing of the kind.
In many instances, these pupils will voice their misgivings at lessons in a self-punishing tone: 1) “I didn’t practice enough this week so maybe it’s not worth playing today.” 2) “I should have ‘gotten’ this piece by now.” 3) You’ve reminded me of that same fingering change more than a few times. 3) “I’m not making enough progress– not getting where I’m supposed to be. (Expectations drown out the joy of the here and now) The student keeps beating himself up, getting more tense by the minute and tying himself in knots. Wrists and arms become locked, making the lesson a rocky road. It’s almost a self-fulfilling prophecy that’s in motion.
The best way to deal with such mounting tension and negativity is to explain that suggestions or revisions are a means to extract musical expression that’s embedded within the student and bring it to the surface to celebrate and enjoy; that there are NO deadlines imposed in our mutual learning relationship–No grades, progress reports, or anything resembling. In short, we are on a timeless, equal partnered musical journey that is selfless, and without judgment.
In this context, natural breathing, relaxation, and hear and now focus become the best recommended antidotes to repeated trauma themed self-recordings that rewind in and out of lessons.
In my particular teaching practice of all adults, I emphasize a “creative process” that includes “experimentation and mutual self-discovery.” Yet in order to have meaning and validity, we in the mentoring universe must explore our own relationship to the learning process–and cleanse it of ego related strivings, power pursuit/aspirations, or hyper-critical tendencies. In so many words, how we relate to the piano is paramount to how it filters out to our pupils.
Finally, in the realm of a satisfying, uplifting exchange of ideas with a student, I’ve included this video: an exploration of Robert Schumann’s No. 19, Album for the Young, Op. 68.
Every three months our student family gathers for a Zoom Music Sharing event that has evolved as a wonderful venue of support, with a discussion following about what it feels like to play for others–how we prepare, how we navigate our practicing, revisions, etc. We are collectively growing and developing in a loving space that will widen with each revisit.
A friend residing in California’s Central Valley, e-mailed a link to a consciousness-raising interview with Jeremy Denk that aired on the City Arts and Lecture Series. (Location: Linda Ronstadt’s home in San Francisco) It was a joyful, music-loving celebration, exploring so many dimensions of creativity at the piano that are rarely shared in the Classical music media. Within an often ignored cosmos of a musician’s connectivity to human existence with its ups and downs–or as Denk terms it, “the sublime and ridiculous of life’s counterpoint,” we have his unique voice resonating above the din of Classical musician related stereotypes, cliches and platitudes. Inevitably, he brings his art to life with a contagious spin of expressively colorful references that feed in and out of his playing.
In his recently published memoir, Every Good Boy Does Fine, a play on the identified lines of the Treble staff, the pianist soars above the “notes” and into the bliss of music-making that has a universal human connection. He frames his artistry through the lens of literature, philosophy, even chemistry, with a well-defined time travel through the works of Old World composers such as Byrd and Gibbons, going forward to Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven and landing in the contemporary cosmos of Ligeti. His emotion packed artistry knows no limits as he is philosopher, poet, balladeer, vocalist, story teller and even jokester in his piano playing. He fleshes out every dimension of humankind in his recitals and recordings, to the unerring delight of his growing audience of listeners.
Denk loves to juxtapose composers in a half and half progam serving of Ligeti followed by the J.S. Bach Goldberg Variations. He can be just as adventurous with a William Byrd/Orlando Gibbons recipe spilling into Beethoven’s Appassionata. The permutations and combinations of works are an instant draw for the pianist, and likewise, for presenters who promote his modern-day mix of tradition and tradition-breaking repertoire.
With a Renaissance-like profile, Jeremy Denk is a welcome contrast to the singular pursuit of competition-seeking young pianists, seduced by the declaration of a “winner,” who “will least offend jury members.” (paraphrase Denk) While the pianist ekes out some positives attached to meeting deadlines through the gladiator arena— building one’s level of playing, etc, he basically steers away from a tension-filled competitive environment, preferring a growth enduring, selfless path of daily epiphanies and enlightenment which he generously shares far and wide.
To this end, Denk is well read, retrieving excerpts from Madame Bovary–or lines of James Joyce that intertwine his love affair with music, the piano, the opera, chamber music, etc. His passions are infinite and diverse–always infused into his creative universe. In this spirit, he’ll sift through Proust while juxtaposing comical Seinfeld episodes that meander into interviews. “There’s a rhythmic pulse to comedy,” he insists, that relates to tempo running through music –never does he rule out the comical dimension of Beethoven, Mozart and other great composers’ works that have conspicuous infusions of humor. At the drop of a hat, Denk, seated at the piano, will play specific bars and sections of music that give validation to his verbal assertions about the fun side of composer’s personalities. (These demonstrations are ear-catching and attach his soulful, though imperfect, singing voice.)
When Denk explores performance anxiety, he’s quick to promote “natural breathing” as an antidote, or more specifically he quotes, Gyorgy Sebok on “the depths and regularity of breathing.” Sebok was one of Denk’s most influential teachers (Indiana U.)
(As an Oberlin memory reminder that ties in with Denk’s recollections, Gyorgy Sebok came to Oberlin during my student years and delivered an awe-inpiring masterclass at Warner Concert Hall that focused on the “singing tone,” a prominent signature of Denk’s playing.)
Following in Sebok’s footsteps, right into the present, Denk, in his own teaching, advises a complete here and now immersion in a piece, funneling in feelings, emotions just as actors do. Along with relaxed breathing, it’s an escape from gripping nerves that tighten muscles.
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Denk’s years at the Oberlin Conservatory that commenced at the precocious age of 16, drew out a few degrees of separation. I attended the “Con,” years before him, and recall cello student, Norman Fischer, who’s regaled by Denk as a memorable mentor in the chamber music milieu. Denk admits that he’s traveled through many faculty studios collaborating with vocalists, string and wind players, expanding his horizons beyond the boundary of a solo piano practicing journey.
Jeremy Denk’s Bach is as impressive as his living, breathing renderings of Beethoven, Brahms, Schubert works, etc. As a tribute to his monumental memory, he’s performed all the Preludes and Fugues from the Well-Tempered Clavier without a score or iPad on the rack. Simply astounding!
Finally, in my ecstatic embrace of everything Denk, having its adolescent analog to my love affair with Van Cliburn after his Moscow triumph, I’ve ordered Every Good Boy Does Fine and I’ll promptly reserve a ticket to Denk’s February 12, 2023 piano recital at Berkeley’s Zellerbach Hall. This one I won’t miss! And maybe as one Obie to another, Denk will autograph my copy of his book.
The renowned mezzo soprano, Joyce DiDonato hosted three inspiring Masterclasses at Carnegie Hall’s intimate recital venue this holiday season, and made “process” her resonating theme of creative musical growth. While a select group of young opera singers were by application, brought into a spotlight of “playing” with DiDonato, as she termed the mutual give and take of ideas before a small audience of appreciative listeners, the reverberations of the event reached musicians of all genres.
As pianists, we, too, must be “singers”–never forgetting the vocal line from our earliest exposure to a new composition–through legato (yes “vowels” please, not those interruptive consonants) DiDonato so convincingly extracted this “legato” from her students through the ins and outs of complex Italian lines that had those distinct rolled “r’s,” and other lingual consonants, carrying a dramatic plot forward. How divinely this young crop of vocalists delivered Italian and French texts through seamless, flowing phrases, while inhabiting the character each was portraying. ( This dramatic dimension of the opera form makes it a multi-tiered journey.)
Pianists may not be immersed in the same audible plot advancement in their playing universe, but they must tell a story without words, inviting themselves into an imagination cosmos –exploring colors, textures, varying articulations that are in the service of the composer (re-creating). Like singers, pianists must learn how to “breathe” –a focus that DiDonato emphasized in her classes. Not to underplay harmonic rhythm as it influences the phrase (suspensions, resolutions, modulations etc) pulling back, going forward–threading the line. One vocalist was prodded to sing “harmony” through an enduring sustained note. It made perfect sense as pianist/collaborator, Ken Noda was an orchestra unto himself, weaving through each operatic solo with impeccable balance and polyphony.
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The Back Story: My own exposure to opera and how it influenced my piano teaching.
My mother took me to see the 1953 movie version of Aida (with Sophia Loren being dubbed by Renata Tebaldi) For a very young child, it was almost impossible to sit through a few hours of a confusing plot transmitted in Italian with English subtitles. ( “The story revolves around the character Radames who falls in love with what he thinks is a slave in a country his armies has conquered. The young woman is actually the daughter of the leader he ousted.”) This was far afield from Gilbert and Sullivan light operas to which I had been exposed, or to Milton Cross’s Saturday Afternoon Metropolitan Opera broadcasts that were weekly beamed into our North Bronx apartment. I loved the arias without the dramatic activity on the stage and intricate plots. My mother insisted that at 3 or 4 years old, I sang excerpts from La Boheme and Carmen once the broadcasts ended. For me, the music, apart from the recitatives, was emotionally riveting, especially when rendered by celebrated sopranos of the era. (Maria Callas, Joan Sutherland, Renata Tebaldi, et al.)
Murray Perahia, who was my classmate at the NYC High School of Performing Arts was regularly brought as a toddler to the Metropolitan Opera by his father, and his early exposure to well-sculpted phrases must have had a pronounced influence on his artistry. His alliance to the vocal model is so conspicuous in his playing.
While I’ve more often preferred Lieder recitals, or arias programmed apart from the operatic setting, I nonetheless study music with a vocal, singing tone focus that surely sprang from those Milton Cross hosted opera broadcasts of the 1950’s (sponsored by Texaco) But what furthered my own immersion in cantabile, singing tone legato expression (and that very horizontal, seamless line being realized as well in staccato, portato, tenuto and other forms of detached note playing) was finding a vocally centered piano teacher in Lillian Freundlich. During lessons at her townhouse on Manhattan’s Riverside Drive, she sang over my playing, with inflections of her voice prodding me to phrase with give and take densities/contours–so there never could be a flat line through any one dynamic marking.
My very first lesson with Mrs. Freundlich was devoted to rendering long, sustained tones that could not be poked, pushed or squeezed. They had to “breathe” without a grain of tension. Lillian spent a few weeks exposing me to the world of tone production that emanated beyond relaxed arms, wrists and fingers that she encouraged. It was a consciousness that permeated every part of me from head to toe, surely likened to the singers at DiDonato’s masterclasses who were dealing with whole body/soul delivery of operatic works.
Finally, under the heavenly spell of Joyce’s classes, I posted one of my lessons in progress this week where my not so perfect, aging voice (often below pitch) nurtures along phrases through J.S. Bach’s heart-throbbing Sarabande in B minor (French Suite BWV 814)
But first what I most recently recorded, is a beautifully woven tapestry that has many multi-tiered dimensions, though, intrinsically, it’s vocal.
For many piano teachers as well as their students, keeping repertoire (old and new) in balance supports musical growth. Yet with time constraints for students influenced by in-school academic demands and after school activities, preserving the growth of one piece, partnered with a technique regimen, is a mountain to climb.
Teachers who learn side by side with their pupils, also experience time shortages for practice owing to heavy teaching schedules and family life demands. Given such challenges, they may barely manage to keep up with repertoire their students are navigating. Being immersed in advanced compositions, investing extra time in fingering assistance, harmonic analysis, and phrasing suggestions, mentors may put their own individualized learning projects on hold.
Despite the dearth of time available to both teachers and students in their retrospective and new piano learning journeys, the value of creating a balance between the two should be considered.
In my own experience as a decades long teacher, I make sure to revive pieces that I have learned in the past, parsing them out each month–providing consecutive days to reassess fingering (my biggest revision), and to re-evaluate phrasing/dynamics. During subsequent weeks, I will play these pieces every two or three days to reinforce my revisions and to instill relative comfort in playing them. By the same token, I always make sure to have a new piece on the rack to stretch my own learning curve. With these, I set no deadlines in absorbing them which hopefully, trickles down to those taking their musical journeys beside me.
Students, with less learning experiences, will often express frustration in revisiting older repertoire. The most common chant is, “I can’t believe how this piece that I thought I’d known, feels completely new–It’s like I never played it before.”
Such a response is understandable when a pupil is still building reading skills as well as a relaxed supple wrist, floating arms approach to the piano. In addition, the original exposure to the piece that is being revived, was in an initial layering or foundational phase, so its first exposure might not necessarily be expected to survive a long hiatus. A second and third revisit spaced over time (with additional learning layers) will likely bring the pupil greater satisfaction.
Overall, parceling voices, understanding harmonic flow, and delving into greater contexts of knowledge about a piece, bodes well for its review. And building technique by studying scales and arpeggios around the Circle of Fifths provides a reinforcement of past and currently new repertoire study. (Chords, cadences, etc. that spring from them, give theoretical framing to enlarge musical understanding)
In general, teachers should alleviate their students frustrations surrounding repertoire revisits by reassuring them of steady incremental musical growth with patient, step-by-step practicing–emphasizing that an old piece once experienced as new and perhaps a bit intimidating, will, in time, be a compatible friend under the hands. Nevertheless, there should always be a healthy margin of space to improve and grow this same piece over time, while new ones are percolating. These newer pieces, by dint of their fresh and challenging landscapes will make the older ones feel less out of reach.
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Example of my having revisited Chopin Prelude in E minor, Op. 28, No. 4.
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I recall this piece that was requested by a student who asked to learn various Enrique Granados Poeticos. It was NEW for me at the time, ushering in an enticement with the composer’s remarkable repertoire. Naturally, this composition grew my understanding of Granados, while it simultaneously advanced all my studies and improved my teaching.
Henry Tan 