Chapter 14: Russian Nationalism

"Before your fingers touch the keys you must begin the piece mentally--that is, you must have settled in your mind the tempo, the manner of touch, and above all, the attack of the first notes, before your actual playing begins. And bye-the-bye, what is the character of the piece? Is it dramatic, tragic, lyric, romantic, humorous, heroic, sublime, mystic--what?" I think this is something too often forgot about. For me, I perform much better if I take a minute and mentally prepare to play. If I think of the opening measures, the rhythm, character, dynamic, etc., I will usually start more confidently, which can then hopefully continue through the performance. I think Rubinstein is wise in saying this.

I enjoyed reading Lhevinne's description of the technical standards of the Russian Conservatories. Scales and arpeggios are important, and probably an important aspect of daily practicing. I think that these fundamentals are often forgotten about in the practice room, and would be something beneficial to add to our daily practice routines.

The production of tone at the piano I think is somewhat hard to explain. Recently, I have been experimenting with similar directions that Lhevinne gives. The wrist and arm are to be loose, but the fingers must be firm and direct. In trying to resolve my tension problems, I developed flabby fingers, which then produced a whimpy tone without much direction and substance. I am currently experimenting with finding the right balance between firmness in the hands and looseness in the wrists and arms. It is not easy, but I feel like my tone is improving, and therefore, think there is something to what Lhevinne has to say about tone production.

I like Horowitz's description of the process in practicing. It is more valuable to work on sections and details, rather than constantly playing through the piece. This is a hard think to do, and requires a lot of discipline and concentration. However, the outcome is worth it; by focusing on details and working slowly from one section to the next, provides a greater learning curve for the piece than continually running the entire piece. I also like the idea of working on parts of one movement one day, and then choosing a different movement or piece the next day. Variety in practicing keeps it interesting and allows reflection in between each session on a particular piece. Then, when returning to that piece, a fresh approach can be taken, rather than a monotonous one.

Chapter 13-14

I really appreciated the I-have-no-method Leschetizky. The idea of ‘the method depends on the person in front of you’ is very convincing to me. I truly think the technique we applying on the instrument differs from one to another. This really makes sense to me because we’re all differently built, thus the perceptions of the instrument we have are different from the first day we played on it. I never think technique involves strict rules. There maybe some general common ideas, like ‘to attain a maximum of achievement with a minimum effort’, or to avoid any kinds of physical injuries.

Anton Rubinstein is unexpectedly a far more interesting person than I thought he was. I knew he was a great musician, he played piano well and also some compositions, but I didn’t know he had such a funny personality. I really like it when he said ‘When you are as old as I am now you may do as I do-if you can’. Maybe that won’t be quite enjoyable for his students, but that still kind of reflects part of the reality.

The ‘Daily Exercise’ concept of the Russian school is absolutely admirable. I can see all those famous names appeared in the chapter spending years and years of hard work to achieve what they had. I’m also impressed by their thinking of taking good care of people they recognized with musical talents. And the thought of ‘it’s the teachers’ responsibility to lead the students not feeling bored with years of scales and arpeggios’ makes me wordless. I think the perfectionism is so deep in the Russian’s blood that they actually treated piano playing sincerely like a religion. I’m not sure I can ever do that. And I don’t think I’m living in that kind of culture nowadays too. It must be a very interesting experience to actually go to Russia and see how this tradition mentioned in the book sustained till today, it must be pretty mind-blowing.

Anyways, I just feel so guilty not spending enough time and effort in attaining perfection after reading the chapter. I must practice more.

Chapter 13: Leschetizky

Leschetizky is wise in stating, “If you think yourself a poor specimen, you will probably always remain one, or most likely become one, but if you think of yourself as having the possibilities of greatness in you, there is a chance for you.” If people do not believe in themselves, they will have a hard time amounting to much.

I like that Leschetizky in part emphasizes the importance of listening to oneself. Speaking from my own experience, I do not think students do enough of this today. I have caught mistakes when listening to recordings of myself that I did not notice when practicing. I have also thought I sounded terrible when practicing, and then hear a recording of myself and found I liked aspects of my playing. We often do not sound exactly how we think we do when practicing, and I think we would have a better conception of our sound if we listened more intently.

As prescribed by Leschetizky, “the brain must guide the fingers, not the fingers the brain.” This statement is a wise one. Playing the piano requires a lot of brain power, and if you think of what you want to do and then reflect on how you did it, I think, will be beneficial in the end for any pianist.

I think Leschetizky’s statement “for accuracy without expression isn’t worth that” is an important one. So often, I think pianists are expected to be machines and consistently play perfectly. But, I think an audience would be more moved by a performance filled with emotion and expression, and the occasional wrong not, as opposed to a dry, yet perfect performance.

I like how Leschetizky does not believe in one prescribed method for teaching each piece or individual students. The analogy that he is a physician and his students are his patients which he has to prescribe different remedies for their musical ailments is a good one. No student learns in the same manner, and requires different types of instruction.

The order of fingers with regards to strength in the Bree method is interesting. While I think, depending on the student, the strength of the thumb, second, and third fingers are somewhat interchangeable, I am not sure if I agree that the fifth finger is stronger than the second.

Russian Nationalism

It was so exciting that Bettina Walker said that ' to imagine that Henselt was sinking his fingers into warm wax.' Can you guys imagine to sink your fingers into warm wax? I have never thought about that. I think it means his playing was very smooth, natural, beautiful and lyrical. Also, the tone or touch should be tender and arem, elbow and wrist should be relaxing. So I am trying to imagine the warm wax before the practicing. I think it could be better to relax my arm, elbow and wrist. I am happy to get the new idea from here.

As I know, almost all Russian pianists have high techniques to play the piano. I have seen and heard some Russian pianists's playings and I felt almost all Russian pianists did not have any technical problem such as 3rd, 6rd, repeated notes and octaves which almost students who are majoring piano performance have. Also, sometimes, I felt Russian pianists performances are very technical rather than musical. Of course, a lot of Russian virtuoso's playings are not only lyrical and musical but also technical such as Rubinstein. But I felt some Russian pianists more concentrate on the technique and the fast tempo. (I remembered Russian piano students were usually playing the piano very fast than other countries piano sudent eventhough it is the same piece) So I was wondering what the piano education or lesson they are educated. I guess piano teachers might teach piano techniques relating with arm, elbow and wrist. In my experience, some Russian pianists's playings are very powerful and technical. But according to this book, Russian music schools regarded the tone or touch as important. I am just wondering the piano teching method became little bit changed? or are the tone and touch also very related with the piano techniques?

Chapter 13 & 14

Leschetizky's " method" was introduced in chapter 13. In his methods, he didn't care too much of physical technique. But, he focused on tone and musical expression. The book, The Groundwork of the Leschetizky Method, contains some points of his view about touch, chords, hand, wrist and arm. I believe his influence on piano pedagogy transcend his reputation as a pianist. His individualistic approach was applied to every student's personality. It is remarkable that he regarded himself as a doctor to find remedy for his students.

 

Also, I found Leschetizky who was a good piano educator not only had professional ability, but also had charming personality. As mentioned in this chapter, "there was magnetism in the Leschetizky personality". I believe that no matter being a successful piano teacher or performer, he or she may have some unique attractive personality. Besides the excellent ability of performance, lots of famous pianist must have their own characters which allow audience to remember them.

 

As a student, we usually say "I like this teacher". In a sense, the reason why we like this teacher is not only based on his professional knowledge but also his personal character. In my opinion, Anton Rubinstein was not a good teacher, although he was such a wonderful pianist. It looks every student was afraid of him. And it is hard to believe he screamed to his student and asked him to practice a passage 3000 times. If a student is afraid of his teacher, how could this student express his most inner feeling before this teacher on the piano? We can see that not every good pianist is able to be a good piano teacher.  

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Baby It's Cold Outside

Ah, the Russians. Vodka, fur hats, and that wickedly cold climate that halted Napoleon; what could be more fascinating? I have to admit, however, that while the works of the great Russian composers comprise the majority of the music on my "reasons to live" list, I have always been a little wary of the Russian piano school. In reading this chapter, however, I discovered interesting information not only about the Russian school, but also about the performance and rehearsal practices of a few of its most famous pianists.

First off, we have Rubinstein, an interesting guy indeed. What fascinated me about him, were the accounts of his many mistakes in performance, more interesting still, though, was the overwhelming opinion that in light of his wonderful interpretations, these mistakes mattered little. Aha! said I, all I have to do is develop wonderful interpretation- and the ability to improvise- and wrong notes and memory slips will not matter (developing said interpretation and ability to improvise is another matter altogether, however)! But then I read further, and discovered that in fact, Rubinstein did have amazing technique, and that he did not allow his students the liberty of mistakes in their own playing. This brings up an interesting dichotomy; correct notes, and mechanics of playing are immensely important, we all agree, but if in a performance setting (heaven forbid), it becomes impossible to hold everything together, which should be saved, the interpretation, or all the correct notes?

We move on to Horowitz, whose practice habits were interesting. He was an advocate of slow practice, something I, for one need to do much more of. It is only when piece is "dissected," so to speak, that one can really be aware of how it works, and of the individual motions needed to perform it. It was also interesting that he spent three hours a week on sight reading. At this point, I'd say it's pretty much settled that that's what I'm going to do, when I have more time. . .


And finally, my current musical hero, Prokofiev. Although there is not as much to say on his technique, it is worth noting the description of his practice of his own third concerto. Although he had played it brilliantly before, he still took the time to break it apart for slow practice, and make sure that everything was in working order, and check for improvements that could be made in his playing. If a composer can do this for his own work, what does this say about my practicing of others' works?


Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some Russian music to listen to.

Mother Russia

Good old Rubinstein. I would have liked to watch him play. His technique seemed unique as he combined arm and finger technique to suit his "paws." He is one of the first to discuss how important the pedal is to playing. His teaching approach was a little intense with all the shouting, but still humorous. My former teacher threatened to hit me with a salmon on occasion, so I can kinda relate... His communication in teaching seemed quite vague, but would be successful for students that responded to the style: imagery, mood projection, willing the sound etc. What I believe was most effective, was the student's conception of the piece, making them prepare the sounds keeping in mind the character of the piece. It's no wonder Safonov suggested the same thing, it truly works.

The conservatory playing seemed so intense, and I can't imagine doing all of that stuff everyday. They never skipped a day of scales and arpeggios. I liked Levhinne's points as well. Relaxation comes from the wrist and arm. We must be certain to articulate in our teaching the only playing with relaxation or playing without tensions isn't possible. We want to eliminate tension where it isn't needed and relax where it is needed. Music is all about tension and release. I wasn't so sure about the different tones produced by the location of the fingertip. I think it's more about the execution of the note that produces the different tone.

His wife strongly suggested getting into the appropriate mood of the piece when practicing. Sometimes I practice something else when I'm not feeling a piece. She also suggested hearing yourself as others hear you. This point is invaluable. How often do we actually listen to ourselves and hear what we are playing? Recording is a huge advantage and often reveals many things. I don't know about recordings causing a student to mimic them. I think it can be very helpful to listen to a recording, or several different recordings and take what you like in each. I really don't listen to pieces I'm playing that much, but I don't see it as a bad thing.

Horowitz's practice of playing a piece through once when first learning but not playing it completely until it was ready sounded completely crazy to me. I think I can take a book out of his page, and in fact I do spend too much time running through pieces. This is where being a good sight reader has its disadvantages. Everything in moderation, I suppose...

Russian Concussion

It's interesting to read about the Russian school; something that I have been experiencing second hand through Dr. Nosikova, though it was unbeknown to me. Scales? 3rds, 6ths, 10ths? Check. Arpeggios? Check. Octaves? Check. I've been practicing these every day for the last 4 years, just like a good little Russian girl (Though I'm sure I cannot maintain their tempo)! In high school, I worked on hanon and scales everyday, because I thought it seemed smart. Once I came to school with Dr. N and she expected many of these technical exercises from me, I was under the impression (for a little while) that this is something everyone did with their students.

Perhaps it's because I respect my teacher, but I can't help but think that the Russian way is great, though perhaps not superior to other schools of thought. It seems undeniable that the dedication and focus on technique is what makes so many Russian pianists great. It seems to me, however, that the work ethic may have been taken too far, creating many Russian alcoholic pianists along the way.

I appreciate the Russian individualistic approach to pedagogy. This is something I have definitely experienced in my lessons with Dr. Nosikova as well. She often gives me many options, and lets me create my own way, while helping me to create good arguments for why I want to do what I do, something that can be compared to the likes of Lhevinne and also Leschetizky. This idea, of course, is not purely Russian. In my opinion, the only way to be a successful at anything, is to omit as much comparison as we possibly can, for ourselves and for our students.

While Rubinstein screamed at his students "3000 times!", p. 295, we see the completely opposite opinion from Mr. Horowitz. He suggests that "It is not necessary to repeat the work all the way through. A piece can be practiced 100 times and when it is taken to the stage it can sound simply like practicing for the 101st time-it is not fresh. In my work I play a new large-form composition all the way through to obtain an overall viewpoint of it's meaning and structure. Then I do not play it all the way through again until it is ready for public performance" (306). This question is something that I debate with myself over and over again in the practice room. Do I practice this passage slowly? Quickly? Hands together, or separate? Stacatto or with pedal? One thing is for sure, incorrect practice will lead to poor performance. It's very important to consciously decide how you are going to practice it, rather than just playing through it over and over again.

Again, with practicing, personally I like to practice (for the most part) without the score once something is memorized. Other people never seem to practice without the score. I wonder if there is an ideal way? And perhaps what the Russian viewpoint on that would be?

Excessive or not, I believe everyone can learn something from the Russian system. Aside from specifics, we can see the importance of conscious, intent practicing, and how the benefits come out of Russia regularly, in the form of incredibly talented pianists. In my opinion, technical study is crucial, especially at a young age. And above all, Russians are completely devoted to the music from a young age, they have an appreciation for the arts which greatly outweighs our own, in this country.

I had to smile when I read about Rubinstein’s temper being a “powerful motivating factor” for his students. I have had a teacher who came from the Russian conservatory and I think he had somewhat of the same philosophy. Needless to say the yelling and intensive work habits were not so motivating for me. Yet, could our culture and my background be a factor in this, do we always feel an entitlement to be encouraged positively and congratulated for any hard work we may do? If I had grown up in Russia this may have been a more effective teaching technique. However, I disagree with this type of motivation I think a teacher can be just as motivating without the screaming and stamping.

Rachmaninoff says that Rubinstein’s use of the pedal was one of his great secrets. This statement made me wonder if at times we don’t underestimate the pedal. I myself know that I don’t use it enough in the correct manner. Why is more attention not focused on the ‘technique’ of pedal use? Rubinstein said himself “the pedal is the soul of the piano. No pianist should ever forget this” (294).

Rubinstein and both Lhevinnes advocated for mental preparation. “Before your fingers touch the keys you must begin the piece mentally-that is, you must have settled in your mind the tempo, the manner of touch, and above all, the attack of the first notes, before your actual playing begins” (295) Rubinstein states. Lhevinne says, “a beautiful singing tone must first be conceived mentally” (302). I was told this quite a lot and while I think it is sound advice one has to also be carful with it because a student could reason that the singing tone and expression qualities of a piece have more to do with ones mental preparation and feelings of interpretation for the piece rather than having to do with technique and hand positions which is just as important if not more. Therefore, I think both ideas must be equally stressed and not one over the other because they both have equal importance in the overall sound of your piece.

Chapter 14 (& 13)

The devotion to facility in technical exercises of the Russian pianists that was portrayed in this chapter is impressive. It obviously had its benefits, but such expectations must be overwhelming or deterring to many people. I think that what can be drawn from this reading is the benefit of exercises aside from those built into the repertoire, but perhaps not quite to this extent.

There were a few quotes that I thought helped to qualify the role of a method in teaching. From Schnabel: "There is only one good technique...and that is to attain a maximum of achievement with a minimum of effort." (p. 288) Thus, advocating only high-finger technique or arm weight will not suffice; the technical approach will depend on a given situation. Later in the chapter, there is a quote by Lhevinne at the end of a description of different touches and the tones they create: "No one can tell the player exactly how to do this; he must find it out for himself..." (p. 305) No matter how detailed a verbal or written description is, students will not fully understand until they have felt it and heard the result. There can be guides and principles to direct students, but there is a certain amount to be discovered by the student.

Again, we read about teachers who do not demonstrate so that their students cannot imitate. I am not entirely convinced on this point yet. Maybe it works well for very advanced students, but I also think that having an aural goal can help practicing. If someone does not yet have the ability or the experience to hear it on their own, they will need a source to provide it for them.

In Chapter 13, the emphasis on concentrated practice and studying away from the piano was good, even though they aren't new ideas. Obviously, there is more to playing the piano than the physical aspect, and giving ourselves time to organize ideas and achieve a good mental state could increase effectiveness of practice and performance.

I would like to know what Leschetizky's method is of teaching how to learn a piece. He says that this is the same for all students. But, if each person's physical approach is different, couldn't the mental approach be different was well? I imagine there are some basic approaches to learning that are common, but there must be some differences in the details.

Chapter 14

In general, I disagree with placing as high importance on technical studies as the Russian conservatories did. The example that during their exams, students would not be permitted to play their repertoire piece if they failed the preceding technical portion is horrible. Lhevinne’s analogy of speaking simple phrases before acting is not entirely applicable to technical proficiency before repertoire. It might be impossible to act without being able to speak simple phrases; yet, the inability to play scales or arpeggios does not have to preclude performing difficult pieces. There are infinite ways to practice scales and arpeggios. If, for example, someone cannot play a G# minor scale in double sixths in contrary motion and inversions at a fast tempo, it does not mean that they will not be able to play a difficult composition well. Yes, scales and arpeggios are important, but they are not important enough to constitute the “backbone of daily work” for the first five years of study, as they were in leading Russian conservatories. A better backbone would be Bach…………………

I think it is sad that when a student asked for advice on fingering Rubinstein would not help (p. 295). If he wanted the student to think for himself, he could at least guide him or give some ideas/options for the student to work out on his own. Fingerings must take into account the type of sound desired - which may require more or less finger or arm involvement - as well as facilitating musical phrasing, such as which notes should be accented. "Easy" fingerings are not necessary good fingerings. I was really surprised that such a respected pianist would not help a student with such an important element of playing.

Rubinstein’s manager wrote, “The moment he arrived in his hotel room, Rubinstein would begin to practice. He never slighted a single audience, no matter how small, by neglect or carelessness. He studied and worked, studied and worked continuously. How his constitution stood the immense strain is remarkable. Yet there was never a complaint. His was the most lovable disposition imaginable.” (p.291) This description explains why there are so few truly remarkable pianists: not many are willing to work and study continuously; and of those who do, even fewer love their work as much as he did.

Chapter 12: Beginnings of Modern Technique

It is somewhat questionable that Lebert and Stark developed the more rigid technique they did when, even with the advancements of the piano, performers like Chopin and Liszt were incorporating a free and flexible arm technique into their playing. Haake states “percussion touch was, as an entity, of more definite substance and form than a vague pressure playing, and method will always thrive on that that can be definitely projected and prescribed.” Perhaps, teaching a more percussive technique is conceptually easier, but part of the art in teaching comes from being able to describe the means necessary to produce specific tones by more subtle actions. It is hard to get into our bodies and find a specific word or image that allows a certain sound to be produced. If piano playing were something that could be taught by definite descriptions, then everyone would play the piano. It is the slight differences and variances in each individuals playing that makes them a unique artist.

At this point it seems that pedagogues are trying to compensate for the increasing demands of the instrument by increasing the force of playing. Creating gymnastic exercises has its benefit in the sense of making an aspect of playing harder than a passage in the pieces you are working on so that those passages then become easier. However, to solely practice these types of exercises seems debilitating to the pianist. The emphasis of time seems to be placed upon exercises rather than actual literature.

I enjoyed reading Mason’s account of discovering looseness in the whole arm and the ability to rest while playing. I think this is the first written statement thus far of such technique. He also describes hanging the arms at the side while standing or sitting, and shaking the arms rapidly and loosely. This is something pianists are often seen doing before playing in an attempt to loosen the arms.

The exercises in Mason’s Touch and Technic, Vol. 1 seem to be very practical, and while many of the other exercises seem practical as well, these are very applicable to the note combinations found throughout the literature. While strengthening the fingers, these exercises also provide gains in the repertoire being studied.

I appreciate Mason’s description of three specific touches at the piano. However, I believe these are very basic and fundamental, but still respectable as it is probably impossible to describe very specific and individual touches.

There is a certain intimacy with the piano that is beginning to come forth at this point. Keys are no longer stricken, but depressed with pressure of the fingertips. As Adolph Kullak states in The Aesthetics of Piano Playing, ‘One should press the key as one grasps the hand of a friend, with warmth, with feeling…” This is a wonderful sentiment, and puts the piano in a similar place of our hearts as our family and friends.

Kullak’s suggestion for practicing scales to ensure the correct pressure of the fingers is commendable and also a good exercise for suppleness of the wrist. The various combinations of rising and sinking the wrists while practicing scales sounds to be very productive for obtaining both correct finger pressure and a supple wrist.

Deppe’s most interesting idea is to create exercises for strengthening the shoulder and arm muscles. He addresses the idea of tone being produced from pressure rather than striking, but the power behind the arm weight would come from the arms and shoulders. This would probably divert tension away from the wrist and create a more desirable tone. Deppe also does not teach one solution to every student, and I think it is important that he states to play in such a way that is most comfortable to the student. It also seems as though he is the first person to suggest that technique and conception are identical. This idea and the ability to clearly describe the mechanism is important in learning a fine technique.

Wow. Deppe’s requirement before beginning a lesson is reassuring of my own training. One had to be able to shake his hand with the lightest touch so that he could move their arm in any direction, but their arm was not to be dead weight. This is something that is a constant aspect of my training, and really emphasizes the importance of the shoulder and back muscles that are used to hold the arms. Another concept enforced in my training similar to Deppe’s suggestion is practicing in front of a mirror away from the piano, and then bringing these same movements to the piano when playing.

Chapter 12

A lot in this chapter seems close to our modern approach to the piano… it is interesting how quickly pianists were trying to understand and take advantage of the fully developed instrument’s capabilities. The most drastic changes are the use of the entire arm, and avoidance of tension. I was wondering why each successive shift in thinking about the correct physical approach rendered the previous ones obsolete. For example, strict finger movement was abandoned for the wrist and forearm. But maybe the tone quality which results from finger movement without help from the arm could be useful in some contexts. Or, pivoting the arm from the elbow can produce a tone different from a completely free and relaxed one, which might be useful in other contexts. Another similar example is how Deppe insists that all motion should be curved, and flat fingers produce a “lifeless or wooden” sound. But a “wooden” sound could be appropriate in some cases, so it would be useful to know how to reproduce it. I would probably agree with Mason, that the “true touch… has the origin further back in the arm,” and while this may be a good generalization I think there is also benefit from exploring the different gradations of involving the arm for the purpose of having a vast array or tone colors at one's disposal.

I thought Deppe’s description about the aesthetic element of physical movement was interesting, how it should always match the music naturally without breaks, including rests. For me, the starting point is always the music, which should dictate how the physical approach will match the content. If it does not fit, then I would always go first to the music rather than trying to adapt the physical approach since the physical element should always be a natural result of musical material, a process that cannot be reversed.

It might be important to remember that everyone’s own physical approach to playing will be slightly different, so Mason is an particularly good model in that he worked and experimented so much to find the right way to produce the type of sound he wanted... I should try to follow this example more often.

I really appreciated the quote “There is more rhythm between the notes than in the notes themselves”. I think that very few pianists actually think of this while playing. It is especially hard to do this while playing a recital dealing with nerves etc. .cause one sometimes tends to rush and forget about breathing. I tend to forget that while playing and sometimes that is one of the most important aspects when playing. Leschetizky actually told Ethel Newcomb about the deep breaths Rubenstein used to take at the beginning of long phrases.
I think as piano teachers we can all learn from Leschetizky’s idea of having no method. “Method depends on the person you have before you”. I agree that each student is different and has different needs and talents. I think that a good teacher should acknowledge that and must be able to adapt. He does state that in the beginning the basics must be learned before one can go very far. He even had assistants doing that part of the teaching. In my opinion that is great but still a teacher should know how to teach the basics to a beginner, otherwise it can only be harmful to the student.
I think Schnabel’s statements on finger-playing and arm movement are very true. He also thinks that for very young beginners putting a coin on their hand without dropping it might be the only temporarily method. Note: “temporarily”.
Leschetizky was one of the few teachers so far who stated that you don’t need to play Bach Preludes and Fugues to become better musicians, or as he stated ‘waste time’ on it. I find this to be a refreshing statement especially at a time when older composers’ music was becoming more prominent and more widely known. Why do some teachers still believe that it is necessary to play Bach?

The last statements on methods that Leschetizky believed in on p. 285 were very interesting to me eg. using your fingertips in everyday life- like holding an umbrella with them. As well as when making a rallentando- to think of a closed tap. I like the fact that he explains concepts with familiar concrete things.

Chapter 12

I liked the Lebert and Stark method because of their stand that technique is not separated from musicianship. Their method goes back to the older methods we’ve seen that describe in detail the position of the arm and hand. They endorsed mechanical apparatus only in extreme cases. The also strongly endorsed the whole arm (not to say that pianists weren’t actually doing this, but they verbalized a great part of the virtuoso technique).

As far as hand gymnastics, I wish they would have explained how they were executed, but this makes me think they really didn’t do that much good, or we probably would still do them to some extent.

Mason’s technique was interesting to read, again, concern about avoiding the stiffening of the wrist and arm. I also liked his descriptions of touch and his exercises would certainly help with all three types.

I loved Marx’s thought that “a pianist virtuoso’s technique is meaningless if it does not exist to portray the deep inner meaning of the music itself” (247). This reminds me of the recital we went to on Saturday evening featuring the winners of the American and Canadian Chopin Competition. The American winner could play so blindingly fast, which was quite impressive, but I lost the musical meaning. Just because you CAN play fast and loud, doesn’t mean you SHOULD all the time.

As I was reading about Deppe, I liked what he had to say about technique. And how ironic that he died for his study material was formalized. I wasn’t sure about his stance on bench height. I usually sit higher than most people, so I think I need to experiment with height to see if that stance has merit. He let the students play through the entire piece before interrupting. This can be good and bad and I think greatly depends on the level of learning the piece as sometimes it’s necessary to stop a student mid-piece. His technique advocated upper arm and shoulder muscles, using arm weight at times, but also holding back. He was also concerned about the aesthetic element. Again, DON’T MAKE unnecessary GESTURES THAT MAKE YOU LOOK LIKE A FOOL! Deppe really anticipated modern technique as we know it with the emphasis of upper arms and weight manipulation. I really liked a lot of his ideas.

The Diary of a Finger Gymnast

The theme for this week is certainly arm weight. From the reading it seems as though Liszt was the master of the keyboard, and Ludwig Deppe was the parallel professionally practiced pedagogue. What I found to be most satisfying about Deppe was his apparent ability to break down technical problems with actual exercises you do with your actual arms! This is the first we've seen of someone demonstrating free fall and talking about using your back muscles. I was particularly fond of the recollection by Elisabeth Caland (p.257) on the two basic exercises to develop the feeling of the arm carrying the hand. This dedication to the utmost attention to physical mechanics during practice is crucial.

While I agree with Deppe on many points, and in general I find him to be quite excellent, I question two main points:

1. Bench height: He advocates a lower bench height and that "The pianist should sit so that the forearm from the elbow to the wrist will be slightly raised..."(p. 253). Perhaps I don't understand the wording, but to me this seems too low. Personally, I like to sit high, especially for big romantic works, and my elbow is usually about in line with my wrist, if not slightly higher.

2. Deppe's position on the wrist in relationship to the arm. On p. 258: "...the line formed by the fifth finger, the outside of the hand and the fore-arm should be a straight one." This means that the hand is slightly turned inward at the wrist. This seems completely counter-intuitive and especially contradictory when he suggests that the thumb pivot on the wrist for scale crossing. In order to pivot the thumb, and to not turn it under as he suggests, one must utilize the "hand waving" wrist motion that the "straight line rule" does not allow.

In all this talk of arms, tendons, fingers, and muscles, I percolate again if the idea of finger, arm, and even whole body calisthenics would be useful. Gerig suggests that while many of these ideas are outdated and ridiculous, they are not without pertinence today. Even Liszt suggested that his students work on "hand gymnastics", and we must remember, Liszt was the all-knowing all powerful piano God!

Do you think that the early nineteenth century would have been stuck with the old finger school of technique thought if some of the "natural performers" mentioned earlier in the chapter such as Chopin, Beethoven, etc. had written a method book or treaties? Or even if it had not made a difference why did they seem so entrenched in their old school of technique thought when the "natural performers" like Liszt, Beethoven and Chopin were using more of an enlightened piano technique. These pianist were so revered why was not their technique or should I say form not valued as well?

This chapter has made me think more about the word technique and what it really all entails. There seems to be many different facet to this word. Yet, they intertwine sometimes too tightly to separate distinctly. Before this class and especially this chapter I would not have necessarily grouped technique and expression into the same category. However, from reading Deppe's teaching methods it seems to me that they can almost be one in the same. If one has good form and technique, one thing will lead to the next, out of technical form comes expression. Deppe stated that we must play with the weight of our fingers and that form has a lot to do with expression. When I begin teaching I would like to remember this and instill in students a good form and the importance of solid technique. Often times I pay much more attention to the sound of things rather than the form of my playing. Therefore, if I were to flip this and pay more attention to form rather then sound at the appropriate times I would know the right form for the right sound and expression I want. I also think this is applicable for teaching as well. Often times we might not pay enough attention to form when in all likely hood it may be the underlying problem for the students. Could I perhaps be right in boiling everything down to basically one catagory? If one has a good technical form the rest will readily fall into place. Or is this to simple of an approach?

Mordern Technical Methods

The hand position on page 235 " "cropped" position with the bridge of the hand quite level with the wrist,…" I tried this hand position on the piano, I found the tone I made on this hand position is a little bit different from the position I get used to. Especially that I found I couldn't keep my wrist exact equal level with the bridge of the hand.  But I believe this position does help all five fingers of hand were equally well trained.

 

Mason's two finger exercise is a creative way for training each finger. These two finger exercises almost include every possibility of playing with two fingers. Before each exercise, it has a clear instruction about tempo, touch. It is good for student to practice. He mentioned three kinds of touch in his book and employed them in his two finger exercise.

 

From this time, pianists paid more attention to the arm participation. They began to think more efficient muscular coordination. Like Clara Schumann and Liszt's subtle arm pressure touch, muscular coordination has a profound influence on the development of modern piano technical methods.

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Chapter 12

I must confess I’ve found myself very guilty as pianist after playing the instrument for 20 years still only know very little about the construction of the keyboard and anatomy of my hands. Also in my past education I did not spend as much time analyzing the physical movements, or technique so to speak, particularly the involvement of the joints and arms. Strange enough I wasn’t raised from the lift-finger-high school of playing neither. Anyways, my whole point is, I’m not sure if it’s true for everyone, but I think the education trend, and perhaps also our culture, is leading us to ‘feel’ the music more than to intellectually analysis it. Yes this could be true, as we all agree ‘every technical issue has a musical solution’, the very feeling of music is our ultimate goal in music making. However I learnt that we often forgot that every problem we encountered with expressing musical meanings has a technical issue behind it. For too long we’re kept unknown to these knowledge and we tried to solve problems in more difficult ways by not going with the nature of the instrument and our hands. I think this is pretty essential in the learning process. We all should ‘cold-bloodily’ diagnose the problem and break it down into smaller units hence the physical principle behind it that we need to learn. In doing this I think we can struggle far less in ‘trying to get the music out of the instrument’ than we used to.

Frankly it is a bit overwhelming to read a chapter full of all these detail description of the pose and hand positions. I feel sorry for all these names because they were not as well known as they deserved to be, but apparently they did spend lots of time in their studies. Sadly though I couldn’t pick some specific ones to comment on because they all look pretty much similar to me in words. However I wonder how differ they would sound on the piano, which I couldn’t get from the book except those very vague descriptive vocabularies. In my opinion different approaches of technique has a lot to do with the different tones produced from the piano. I don’t think there’s an absolute technical solution or just a single ideal tone. Our differently built bodies, so as the pianos, determined us to play and project differently. I also think there’s more than just one good tone, or just one legato and staccato. I believe music is far more expressive than only that, thus we would need more than one approach in technique at times as the music requires.

chapter 12

I strongly agree with that the technique should be related with the musicianship. Also, I think the technique and musicianship make the atmosphere of the piece and the sound. Actually, I am practicing Beethoven piano sonata Op. 31 No. 3 in Eb Major and it is very hard for me to make an appropriate sound of each movement. My professor recommend me to use the arm instead of the fingers and the arm, the elbow and the wrist should be connected together when I am playing. I think it is very important thing when we are playing the piano.

I was thinking about my technical problem after reading this chapter. I realized that I have two big problems. First, I mostly use the finger rather than the arm. Second, I unconsciously nod my head when I play the piano. I have tried to correct these problems, but it is still remained. I am just wondering if you have any solution or same experience like me.

I agree that technique should in theory not be separated from musicianship. Everyone can try to play a piece faster and faster until it sound good to someone without an ear for music. You can do it with a metronome or by practicing in several ways. We all have heard and seen 10 year olds play fast to many audiences amazement. But why is that always confirmed as a good technique? I think the word technique has become misused. It is less common to hear a good tone, a beautiful legato or singing sound and it is also unusual that when somebody has the latter skill that we refer to it as a good technique. Perhaps we say they are musical. Therefore it seems that we tend to think of technique as purely an unmusical ability to play fast and correct. It is important to note that the piano mechanism has not changed much since Lebert and Stark. We can still, if one wishes to do so, use their writings as a model for playing today.

I must say Marks's Digitorium sounds like a torture device. The finger gymnastic exercises that would help so to such an extent that you would not have to practice sounds like a "Verimark" product. I also wonder how Liszt could have given them to his students the year he died. Was it a final hope to improve their bad techniques? You would think that he would know how to teach technique by then.

Mason’s finger exercises surely seem to focus on legato playing and on the forearm. Did he only have two fingers?

Leschetizky also started teaching at a very young age. Many great pianists are said not to be as good teachers as they are pianists. Could one say it is experience from a young age that is the most essential part of becoming a good teacher? How much can a pianist practice and gain teaching experience at the same time at an early ages these days. Especially when you are 14 to say 21? I was forced to go to school at that age.

Leschetizky speaks about being able to hear the melody stand out from the harmonies (voicing?) and that the piano sounded like a completely different instrument when he heard Schulhoffs playing. This is the first time that the book mentions the word technique in two different ways, the brilliant technical ways of the past and the new style of playing. It is mentioned that Chopin had influences Schulhoff. Was Chopin then the initiator of this style? It surely gives him a lot of credit in the field of technical development. I also like the idea that Leschetizky described having a certain sound in his head that he wanted to reproduce. And all the descriptions on page 274 are fantastic: Listening between notes, singing a melody, pp sound from far. 4 hours of concentrated practicing. Brain guides fingers not vice versa. These are things that I constantly heard in piano lessons throughout my life but I have never seen it written before. These sentences are written by pianists who understood very well what they had in mind. It is realy amazing to read this book.

Chapter 12

What was included of the Lebert and Stark method described a technique that seems as though it would be very uncomfortable and, as confirmed by personal accounts, very tiring. While this school of playing may have been easier to teach, I wonder how successful it was. It must have resulted in a certain amount of success for it to have been popular, but the account from Amy Fay emphasizes its failings, much as a current audience would expect to read. A suggestion from the Lebert and Stark method that I think is useful, however, is the practice suggestion of playing slowly and loudly at first (p. 231). Similar to Liszt's approach to learning a piece, it reduces the number of elements requiring attention so that you can focus on the just the notes initially.

Deppe's (and Mason's) approach sounded much more natural. Although I am not the first to wonder why it was not more widespread, I am also not convinced by Fay's reasoning in regard to Liszt. It seems unlikely that he wouldn't have noticed the difference at some point in his teaching career. Either way, it provides support for the idea that technique and musicality are connected. Deppe even relates beauty of tone to beauty of movement (p. 263) I think that 'natural' can be a form of beauty because it is pleasing, physically or visually or aurally, and the records of his teaching confirm a natural use of the body -- use of the whole arm, maintaining a good hand position as often as possible, alternation of muscle contraction and relaxation/efficiency of movement.

I also admire Deppe's specificity in teaching, as claimed by Fay, and not only in explaining a particular passage but also in applying it to to other situations. Teaching principles in addition to details will better serve students as they become more independent.

(Insert Muppet Arms Here)

Well, here we are, folks. After chronicling hundreds of years of piano technique, we finally arrive at the people who advocated arm weight, and something closer to our style of playing. Leave it to the late romantics, with all their wives and concubines to finally start to shake things up.

First, however, we have the relatively novel idea of hand gymnastics, the exact execution of which I am still foggy on. Depending on the nature of the exercises, it strikes me that they might not be such a terrible idea; athletes exercise their bodies in other ways than just their own particular sport, so why shouldn't we exercise our hands away from the piano? I think, however, that with today's lifestyle of texting and typing at all hours of the day and night, our hands may occasionally be more in need of an hour's break than anything else.

We move on, then, to Mason and his exercises for two fingers. I found these interesting, and while I would most likely have to work with them to decide whether they're really worthwhile, it occurred to me that since the two-note slur is the smallest unit in music, moving from one finger to the next could be called the smallest musical action. If this be the case, then why not make sure that our playing with only two fingers is absolutely solid?

Ludwig Deppe was the most fascinating discovery in this week's reading. The description of his "feather light hand" technique and the usage of the arm muscles was surprisingly clear. Perhaps because Deppe was one of the first to actually advocate this style of playing, he had to be extremely clear, but we who use arm weight in our playing may do well to learn to articulate our style as well as he did.

The inclusion of a chapter dedicated to Leschetizky baffled me slightly. He did not seem to contribute much to the advancement of technique, and wrote no method himself. I suppose it was his many students who merited him special attention, and here we have a glimpse of his genius. Leschetizky's claim that the technique and "method" should be suited for and tailored to the individual student was brilliant. While there are certain principles that apply to all technique, everyone's hand size, physique and temperament are different. Because of this, suiting the technique and style to the student is vital. Of course, this leaves more work for the students, since only they can tell exactly what works with their own bodies, but then, independent thought is a good thing on occasion, right?

Chapter 11

Virtuosity vs Musicality! I guess a problem every pianist struggling with. I personally find it pretty hard to find a good balance in between. No one would object the ultimate goal of performing music is to explore the expressiveness in music, but most of us can’t help ourselves leaning on either side. Ironically we need them both. We need expressiveness to keep the music interesting, yet we need good technique to express the music. Maybe this is inborn, rarely there’s a person strong at both sides. So far as we read, almost everyone encountered this problem. Beethoven was fame of his passion and energy in his piano playing but also was criticized his craftsmanship not good enough. Chopin might be an exception because people said he’s ‘perfect’. Thalberg was thought too mechanical. Even Liszt found himself couldn’t express music well enough at a point. And here now Schumann ruined his finger because he lost the balance in his practice.

I couldn’t imagine how could Schumann insisted his career as a musician after the injury. It takes so much courage. For this one single reason he’s already a very respectable musician. In this generation we just don’t have this patience and the obsession of one thing to persist like Schumann did. Frankly if one day I couldn’t play the piano anymore I would simply switch to other fields, probably one that could earn more or doesn’t have to lock myself up always.

Before reading this chapter, Clara was just ‘a famous female pianist’ in my understanding. This is so overly understated! She was good enough to being compared with Thalberg and Liszt and etc. She must be really good. Again, I couldn’t imagine how she went through her childhood under her cruel father’s torture... I think she deserve more than she’s having nowadays.

Schumann Triangle

I never knew Clara Schumann had eight children. I am sure she could not practice or compose much during this time. Perhaps that is why her father opposed to the marriage at first.

I like reading that so many great pianists in this book, like Clara Schumann, are said to have an absence of personal display and strive most importantly to comprehend the meaning of the composer. One of Clara Schumann’s students mentioned that her playing was never in disregard to the score even when she performed from memory. I find that to really be an impressive quality to have, especially when you are a famous pianist of your time. I think of the many famous pianists of our day. One often hears true interpretation in several recordings but one can often hear an exaggeration of “personal display” by many famous pianists in live performances. A lot of times this is evident with more familiar repertoire that has become overplayed. Pianists try to interpret these works in unnatural ways, not being true to the score, and seem to perform them in merely for the sake of being different. I think even great masters such as Rubenstein can be “guilty’ of this. I think this is a phenomenon which did not exist until the 20th century with the development of recordings and an abundance of pianists being judged on their individual interpretation. I like the quote that Clara Schumann above all secured….”An interpretation of the composer’s work which as it once intelligible to the listener-this certainly formed an essential element of her playing, and it is worth while insisting on this, since the absence of that strict accuracy and perspicuity is too often mistaken for evidence of deep emotional intention.”

It certainly seems that Clara Schumann was the first female pianist to be reckoned with in the 19th century as she was frequently mentioned among great virtuoso such as Liszt, Thalberg and others. I wonder to which extent she had published her own compositions under Robert Schumann’s name. Was it truly exceptional for female composers to publish their work so late in the 19th century? I would be curious reading more recent scholarship regarding this.

Schumann Circle

 

This chapter is the most interesting chapter I have read in this book up to now. It includes many composers and pianists whom the author called Schumann circle. This circle nearly includes three generations of musican.

 

In my country, piano professors usually switch their kids to teach. They don't think they are able to teach their own kids since these kids are not serious to what their parents teach them. In this chapter, we can see the most prestigious woman pianist Clara Schumann in the 19^th century was cultivated completely by her father Friedrich Wieck. And Clara also became her daughter Eugenie's main piano teacher later. Clara might train her daughter in the same way as  how Clara was taught by her father. I am not sure this method of teaching could be successful in any family. But Clara's family was surely a good example.

 

We always say that music come from our daily life. I found some interesting descriptions in this chapter. Clara told her kids: "… When he (Schumann)read poetry, resting on the sofa after dinner, it turned into songs. When he saw you children at play, little pieces of music grew out of your games. …" (p214) Zelter asked his friend to make a proper compliment before young Mendelssohn. "…please do so moderate, without too much noisy instrumentation, and in C major …" I can't help laughing when I read the way Zelter expressed something by using so many musical ideas and terms.

 

Although I doubt Liszt's "group piano" method in the chapter 10, I quite like Wieck's "group piano". I am in favor of the proper size of the "group piano" and the way how he taught "... he made three of them sing, one after the other, …,one of them he made improvise a cadenza, and a second sang the alto to it  without accompaniment."(p210) Wieck was such a good trainer of so many good musicians. The way he trained his pupils was creative and efficient.

 

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The Schuman circle
I wonder for how long and why the music of Bach was not regularly performed until Mendlesohn “revived” it. It seems that most of the composer/ pianists of the time were praised chiefly for their improvisatory skills. (It worries me that I have none!) I recently saw a video on Youtube of Hororvitz improvising before recording a Mozart sonata. When asked what the composition was he merely said: It is improvisation…I am a pianist but still a musician.” I imagine Clara Schuman and others who thought so highly of Mendlesohn playing must have referred to his performance of his own works as well as as other compositions? I feel embarrassed to admit that I have never played the piano works of Mendelsohn. Is it possible to restrain own tears in his piano music? It seems like Beethoven and Mozart were mainly critiqued or remembered for their performance of their own works, as Chopin had developed fame for his particular style and performance of his own compositions. Even Liszt, who played works of several composer’s, and transcriptions, was better known for his own compositions and their performance. Could Mendlesohn be one of the true great composer/pianists who shifted to specializing in piano performance seeng that his skills at the piano is seen in the same light as many of the greatest pianist. (Even Thalberg!) Mendelsohn certainly seems to have been a good teacher and musician. I admire his dissatisfaction for irrelevant interpretation of a composer and his emphasis on vocal expression as a means of creating true feeling at the piano.
Schumann’s injury might have forced him to focus on composition I guess but if he could still play he might have developed his composition skills even further. I am not sure the injury could be seen as beneficial in any way. I find almost everything that Schumann writes to be of the greatest value and I feel every pianist should make a conscious effort to read and understand what he writes.

I would like to make a copy of page 206 and 207 and put it in my practice room. Some of the points I like most are "rest from your musical studies by reading poetry", "often take exercise out in the open", "never miss the oppertunity of hearing a good opera" and "it is better to rest than to practice without joy or freshness."

The Schumann Circle

For the most part in this chapter we don't see any ground-breaking technique, basically just different preferences for teaching. I wish there would have been a bit more information on individual technique...

Mendelssohn is one of those weird composers in my opinion. He must have been quite the virtuoso because some of his music is insanely hard. I remember turning pages for the D Minor piano trio and cringing at the amount of notes and difficulty of the music (astonishing music though). Then we have pieces like Songs Without Words and smaller pieces for children. His teaching philosophy was interesting; I found it unique that he only played pieces for his students that they weren't studying. This forces students to come up with their own technique and interpretation which can be quite a difficult process. Also, I think we all need to listen to good singers or something...

The Schumanns and Wieck had some good stuff. I personally loved all of Schumann's aphorisms. I liked that we shouldn't strive to be the best just to be the best at the sake of losing music. Obviously Papa Wieck was an important predecessor for modern technique, strongly advocating the loose wrist. I don't think I've had a lesson yet where Dr. Tsachor mentions having a supple wrist, must be important or something! And Clara's technique directly comes from her father. Interesting that he only made her do exercises and how she got frustrated but never gave up.

Brahms is also another important figure for technique. His exercises looked a bit torturous but when playing his music it's so important to have good thumb dexterity. That and syncopation. I also think it's impossible to play Brahms without big arm technique.

What a joyous circle of people. I would have enjoyed knowing them back in the day.

Chapter 11

I like Schumann’s advice, “As you grow older, converse more frequently with scores than with virtuosos.” “Conversing” with the score is a great image… I don’t think a great interpretation results from just remembering each marking in the score, but from contemplating its meaning. Mendelssohn, Clara, and Brahms also respected the score and the composer’s intention in their performing and teaching - a much better approach than Liszt’s…..

I liked reading that Brahms demanded neatness and equality of fingers as a starting point rather than an end for works by Bach or Mozart. This is still important today I believe, because too often I hear about a “Bach articulation” or a “Mozart touch,” generalizations, which help little for interpreting a single piece by either composer. While it may be true that Mozart is more delicate than Rachmaninov, I think this understanding is useful only in the beginning of learning his music. As Brahms writes, “varying and sensitive expression” are further necessary, and I would agree that we should take advantage of the resources the modern piano offers to attain this contrast. In other words, two Mozart phrases might require a very different physical approach, and to label them both as “neat” would not be particularly enlightening… but it is a good starting point.

It is interesting that Brahms would watch his students practice and make comments to them. I imagine some of my students would be more focused if I watched them while practicing… In my own experience, I’ve found that a large bust of Beethoven near the piano helps to keep me focused and motivated…

With playing Bach at least, Brahms placed greatest emphasis on rhythm, and in general I agree completely. I think rhythm is the most important aspect in music, and one often overlooked. Perfect rhythm is something that more musicians should strive to attain...

Golden Years (and no, I don't mean the David Bowie song)

Oh, to time travel back to the 1800s, just to witness the flowering of the Romantic period in music, and the Victorian period in literature, around me. Here we have a very extraordinary musical culture; the "Schumann circle" as it is called embodies what today could be an ideal artistic environment. The Schumanns and their friends had the great good fortune of being alive at the same time, and the musical world has never been the same.
What strikes me about this chapter, is how much literature played a role in the music and musical theories of the time. Composers before this time had set texts to music, of course, primarily biblical ones, but in the nineteenth century suddenly there is an outpouring of instrumental music based on literature. And composers were interested in literature; Mendelssohn was friends with the great poet Goethe, and wrote music inspired by his poetry.He was also a huge fan of Shakespeare's works (this obsession inspiring, of course the wonderful music to A Midsummer Night's Dream, with its overture that departed from traditional form in order to follow the arc of the play). Many other composers wrote music inspired by literature (think of Liszt's Dante sonata). It was Schumann himself, though, who used literature the most. His reviews of music and composers are extremely literary, and we know he read poetry avidly, and, what is most interesting to me, advocated reading poetry as a way of improving one's musicianship.
Obviously, literature, especially poetry, was incredibly important to Schumann, as well as to his friends, and I think it should also be important to us as modern pianists. Not only is the subject matter of poetry helpful in putting words and sentiments to music, but also the meter of music is often closely related to the meter of poetry (most often iambic pentameter). Also, if we relate a musical phrase to a sentence in speech, would it not be helpful if we read the great sentences of the master poets? The poets and the musicians had the same artistic ideas, and it is of great worth to help in understanding the one by studying the the other (it goes both ways; literature is enhanced by music, as well).
We shouldn't live in a box that only encompasses music. Schumann espoused exercise out in the open, as well as reading, and I think he's right. As we said with Chopin, exercise can only help our playing, and using the time when we aren't practicing for that, and for reading and taking in other art forms can only enhance it as well.

The one thing I will take away most from this chapter is the importance of a solid technique in general.  Such as scales, arpeggios, trills, double notes and octaves.  We must master all of these to perfection in order to pass it along to our students as well as to improve our own musicianship.  I think Schumann addresses this when he recalls, "I looked at him with a smile, put Herz's finger-exercises before him, and told him to play one everyday for a week, and then come back and try the Concerto again.  This he did and called me his good genius, because my advice had helped him so much.  And he actually did the play the Concerto ten times better" (202).  This shows us that if we have a good solid technique and are continually going back to it in our practicing and incorporating it into our music, better music is produced. 

 Wieck was also a big fan of a solid technical approach.  We can see this from his daughter Clara when she writes in her diary expert about his frustration and her only being able to play scales, Cramer's etudes and Czerny's studies on the trill.  Wieck's own idea was one of taking the greatest care in the teaching  of technique and expression. (208)  

Also Brahms is the same way in his approch to instructing Eugeneie, Clara's daughter.  She states that he made her play a great deal of exercises, scales and arpeggios as a matter of course and also payed special attention to the thumb.  All in all I think Brahms really made her work on a lot of technique and not only in the exercises but also in the music that she played.  For instance in Bach he stressed rhythm the most.  But in the end all her hard work payed off and she saw the benefits of it.  "The seed which he sowed fell upon good soil and bore fruit in the course of years, and when I began to teach I recognized how much I owed to him" (225).  Therefore, a musician with a good solid technique will reap the benefits of it.  All these great musicians and composers of this chapter understood this and stressed the importance of it.  I think if we can follow their example and do the same with ourselves and the students we may have we will see a great improvement.      

           

The Sturm und Drang Gang

Ok, perhaps they weren't the first musicians to emphasize the use of Sturm und Drang (Beethoven anyone?) but if there is one thing that ties all of these musicians together it's the idea of musical expression.

Mendelssohn? A second Mozart? Whatever could you mean? I thought he was just some dude who wrote that wedding song? He was actually pretty cool, all things considered. Surprising! I know! You learn something new every day. What intrigued me the most was his reticent nature. To discourage imitation is to take devotional teaching to a whole new level. It's one thing to teach someone how to do it "your way", but to teach the idea of finding your own voice is not only much more beneficial for the student, but much more difficult for the teacher!

When he wasn't Eusebius or Florestan, he was Robert Schumann, and though he was known more for being a composer than a digit-demonizing pedagogue, his "House-Rules and Maxims for Young Musicians" are so far one my favorite things I have come across in the text. For a crazy person who broke his hand, he surely advocates moderation. Scales in moderation, exercises in moderation, PRACTICE in moderation. He suggests that to practice past your daily work into the land of the exhaustion is harmful. "It is better to rest than to practice without joy or freshness"(206). "OFTEN TAKE EXERCISE OUT IN THE OPEN" (207). (!!!!!!!!!!!! Florescent lights anyone?!!!!) Sing the middle voices in choir, practice on the organ and again, listen to singers. I swear, by the time I'm done with this class my voice teacher is going to be so happy.

Next we have Brahms. Oh the nights I have toiled with your exercises my dear Santa Claus of a man. In all actuality, his exercises, in my humble opinion, are one of the best ones out there. In terms of finger independence, thumb training and rhythm, gotta love those Brahmsian hemiolas! Brahms, C. Schumann and R. Schumann all suggested the frequent study of Bach (like pretty much everyone else apparently) though Brahms says that Bach must never be played stacatto! (224). I wonder to what degree it was "fashionable" to play Stacatto Bach in Clara's day, as Brahms suggested (224). I agree that a light non-legato touch for Bach is best.

The last thing that holds this gang together is their dislike for Liszt. I know he was a rockstar but come on people! You have to love Liszt! I will always be amused by this fact, knowing that Brahms exercises are facilitating part of the technique that helps me study Liszt!

Chapter 11

Reading about these pianists' approach to teaching was enlightening. They all, except for maybe Mendelssohn, advocate the practice of scales, arpeggios, and other finger exercises, although Brahms at one time apparently favored using portions of pieces that the student was studying to work on technique. In this type of technical practice, I didn't realize that changing rhythms and doing groupings was such an old practice technique.



The description of Mendelssohn's classes was also interesting. I can see how that arrangement could be beneficial -- having more than one teacher and learning about a piece from both the teacher and peers. The description sounds as though technique and musicality were separated. Based on earlier discussions of the connectedness of these two areas, I wonder if the arrangement was any more effective than not making the distinction.



It was a a boost to the ego to read from Schumann/Florestan that playing from memory indicated "uncommon musical powers" (p. 207)). It is practically a requirement for all piano students to do this now, so it is easy to forget that it once was an impressive act. However, there are various degrees to which a piece may be memorized. I imagine Schumann was not thinking of simply motor memory when he wrote on this topic.



On the issue of performance practice, Brahms finds no fault in making use of any expressive devices unique to the modern piano when playing music from an earlier time period, but he was still concerned with applying an appropriate style, as evidenced by his opinion on staccato in Bach. I think this is a nice compromise, so to speak, on the issue -- upholding tradition while accommodating present circumstances.

chapter 11

I was impressed on Robert Schumann's teaching. He emphasized 'touch'. I think touch is related to tone or sound. In my experience, it is too difficult for me to express and make a tone and sound what I would like to. I usually too much hit the key when I play the forte. On the contrary, I play the piano too much light or sometimes I missed the notes when I play the piano or pianissimo. I do not know exactly how I could make a sound deeply but not too heavy or softly but not too light. My previous teacher always told me I have to hear when I play the piano and I have tried to do so far, but it is not easy and certain.

Personally, I strongly respect Clara Schumann because she was a virtuous pianist, the mother of six children and the wife of great master Robert Schumann. She is like a super woman.
Amy fay said that Clara Shumann's playing is grand, finished and perfected rounded off, but there is nothing of the analytic. However, I am sure she played musically as well as technically to study the pieces because almost all keyboard pieces by Robert Schumann are very characteristic and his Lied is based on the poetry so his Lied is so meaningful. Clara Schumann played Robert Schumann's works very frequently after Robert Schumann died. Also she got a glowing praise after her performances. I think it is the evidence Clara Schumann analyzed Robert Schumann's music and she had already known what Schumann had to say.

Chapter 11: Schumann

I find Zelter's caution to those hearing Mendelssohn to be rather wise: "...if you are prompted to sing his praises, which I both hope and fear, please do so moderato, without too much noisy instrumentation, and in C major, the most colourless of the keys. Hitherto I've presented him from vanity and overestimation of himself, those damnable enemies of all artistic progress." I think it is good to guard the ego's of talented young people. These pianists often recognize they are talented, often more talented than other pianists they know. This is a great thing, but if their ego becomes too large, they then appear pompous, which does not bear well on their status amongst other musicians.

In someway I like Mendelssohn as a teacher. Sometimes a certain sternness is better than constant loving support--it pushes us when we most need it. I also like how he would only play sonatas that none of his students would so that they would be forced to have their own interpretation. Sometimes the best things in life are learned the hard way. Okay, enough philosophy.

Schumann's hand injury is scary to read about. Granted, I don't know many pianists today that would consider using such instruments to strengthen their hands, but it does remind me of how careful we have to be when practicing. It is still possible to cause oneself to develop tendonitis or carpal tunnel, which are also very debilitating to the pianist.

The "House-rules and Maxims for Young Musicians" appended to Schumann's Album for the Young, Op. 68 are somewhat general comments that I would assume most pianists have heard at some point in their training. However, I have yet to feel so inspired by these words as none have been written so eloquently. I felt like Schumann was talking to me rather than dictating directions to me. Some of my favorite quotes include: "Always play as though a master were present," "Try to produce each composition the effect at which the composer aimed," "As you grow older, converse more frequently with scores than with virtuosos," and that one is musical when "you have taken music not only into your fingers, but in to your heart and head." I think these statements are very true, and that not only young musicians, but also those more experienced should take the time to remind themselves of such important aspects of making music.

I like the account of Brahms teaching Florence May contributed to this chapter. I think it can be beneficial to students to occasionally point out what they are doing incorrectly and model to them how they can fix it. I also like how he did not see the gain in repeating five finger exercises daily. These exercises do have their importance and can offer great gains, but perhaps, said exercises should be practiced at certain intervals of training rather than continually. I'm not completely sure. I think the importance is that Brahms created exercises from the music that Florence May was studying. Even better still, he made the exercises more difficult than the original passage itself. Then, when the written passage was played it no longer seemed difficult.

Chapter 10

I like the description of Thalberg’s practicing habits, to “play musically at all times,” (p. 174) including technical work with scales, and arpeggios. Adding crescendos, decrescendos, and different articulations, etc. to technical work, I believe, is a more favorable approach than Liszt’s, who according to Auguste Boissier, “reads in order not to be bored” while working on technique (p. 182). When working on actual music though, Liszt does not want “purposeless or mechanical study,” as Boissier writes later.

It’s hard to know for sure how much Liszt engaged in histrionics on stage, due to contradictory accounts of his playing. Boissier attests that he was not motivated by a desire to “show off at the expense of good taste. He does not play for others but for himself.” (p. 184) Schumann believed that poetry would be lost if Liszt had to be heard behind a screen (p. 179)… I don’t think this should have to detract from a performance.

While we will never know exactly how he performed, we can look at his compositions for evidence of theatrics, which I think are hard to miss. I do love Mazeppa as much as anyone else, but in my opinion, the musical benefit I would gain by its study does not outweigh the technical struggle, as it would with any Beethoven Sonata. While composing, the thoughts of what effects that certain musical and technical devices would have on the audience never seemed far from Liszt’s mind. The effect on the audience of Beethoven’s music, on the other hand, was probably never a motivating factor for his compositions. This is all of course just my own speculation - but for me, Liszt’s music occasionally lacks genuineness inherent in some other composers.

I was surprised that Liszt did not seem to advocate use of the upper arm. It was also interesting that he started working with students only after they had already developed a competent technique.

On page 183 Liszt’s advises, “Have patience with yourself. Your future is ahead of you. Rome was not built in one day.” This was valuable for me since I often try to improve very fast… it would be better to let things gradually improve a little more naturally, without trying to take shortcuts.

Chapter 10

It’s so nice to know Liszt was actually a human being. It is especially comforting to have read how he was commented by Czerny in the earlier chapter. He is actually ‘not that perfect’!

The benefit of an early success to an artist is an arguable topic to think about. Just as Czerny commenting Liszt, I incline more to the idea of keeping away from the public before a certain maturity is established. Some say if Mozart wasn’t touring at his young ages he could have achieve even greater. But obviously that’s not true in Liszt’s case. I believe there’s many factors deciding if a musician could finally succeed, and they just work differently to each person.

Liszt established the definition of ‘performer’ nowadays. He started recital. He is the first to perform memorized. And people is obsessed about him. See how many descriptions of ‘his eyes’, ‘his hair’, ‘his clothes’, ‘he walked’, ‘he breathe’!, ‘he kiss’...appeared in the chapter. Music wasn’t anymore the only focus of the crowd. Liszt became more than just a famous pianist. He is a star, almost God. Sadly though this is a phenomenon pretty similar to our society. Besides music, you also need to have a place in market to make you success, no better by the outlook appearance, or personality, or whatever gimmick you can give.

Surprisingly though Liszt despite being a God-like performer, he also took his teaching very sincerely. So far I think he is the guy that took well care of all aspects, e.g. composition, performance and teaching, at the same time. However that is obviously not we’re following these days. In my point of view, nowadays musician are too much being labeled under different streams of music, not much would be considered as ‘all around’ like Liszt does. Even narrowed to only considering performers, still I think we’re divided into the academe and the conservatoire stream. Maybe things changed through time and now we’re just too busy to be all-rounded, or maybe there’s not much that would have the talent that can be compared with Liszt.