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Hanon, Hanon and more Hanon. Breakfast lunch and dinner. A side of Hanon mid practice session and finish up with Hanon for dessert. Midnight snack Hanon if you can’t sleep. What a blessing, these gem tartlets that seemed to bestow from the heavens, fulfilling our fingers of dexterous nourishment as pleasing as bon-bons. Start at A0 and proceed chromatically ascending to C8, then descending- all 60 exercises uninterrupted. For if you studiously engage in this warm-up, your technical problems will melt like icicles in the Sahara, at only 3 hours a day. For not a night goes by I thank the almighty in my prayers for the splendid and superb insight of Hanon, for if he only wrote 61, more mysteries of the cosmos would be unlocked. And, if you are still reading this, you can appreciate my sarcasm and humor.
I do not have a precise warm up routine. Sometimes I do not even warm up at all. If in a literal sense you mean, I find running my hands under a moderately flowing stream of warm-hot (not scalding) water is more beneficial than just soaking them in submerged water on a cold day. As far as pieces or exercises, its usually circumstantial; I isolate trouble spots or challenging technical passages in pieces I’m currently practicing, or performing at the moment, as this is the best, most efficient way to practice. Akin to a figure skater, who will isolate the toughest jump, and practice it x times in a row so they can nail it when it arrives when they skate the entire routine under pressure later, or a basketball player, who will study tape of the opponent, wait for the one square inch of ‘real estate’ to become open on the court, then take the shot at the precise location they ‘warmed up’ shooting from x times in a row before the actual game. Indeed, playing a musical instrument, like any physical skill, requires constant and careful practice, alike of athletics. Yet, the simple act of moving your fingers is insufficient, its not what to practice, but how to practice; usually very slowly, as Rachmaninoff prescribed, while moving the hand quickly to its next position exactly as it would in very fast tempo, the eye watching more so fingers moving up, rather then striking the keys down, all the while breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth, with particular mindfulness to the body- only natural motions of the wrist (rotation, side-side with no tension) and loose arms and visualizing yourself in the exact forum in which the performance will take place, preferably on the same instrument to be used then, or if not available, as Arrau recommended, on a poor instrument, so upon first touch of the best instrument at the actual performance, it seems unforced, natural and ’refreshing’. To continue with a sports analogy, the same way a baseball player ‘warms up’ with a weighted bat taking swings in the on deck circle. This may seem more complicated then it is, but ‘warm-ups’ for me have almost always been purely situational rather then a prescribed “work out routine”; I have discovered more can be accomplished with detailed attention to less material, rather then the opposite. I was fascinated to learn of Liszt’s daily warm up routine being Clemente’s Gradus ad Parnassum No. 8. It has always intrigued me, if the Etudes of the great masters Chopin and Liszt are considered the “bible”, then what were the Etudes they played and ‘warmed up’ with? I can say for myself, and 34 years to date of playing the piano, the I have found for my hands and capacity, being drawn to “warm up” with the following pieces more so than others: Prokofiev: Etude in C minor Op.2 No.3 Liszt: Grandes Etude S.137 No.10 m.61-66 Saint-Saens: Etude Op.52 No.1 last 2 pages Schubert: Wanderer Fantasy last 2 pages Debussy: Etude No.12 1st page |
Photo: Debra Macfarlane
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Frequenty Asked Questions
Have a question for a professional concert pianist? Perhaps you are a piano student at any level with questions regarding repertoire, practice suggestions or technique advice. Whether it's trouble with a particular passage and you have a question about fingering, or just wondering about the life and times of being a performance artist in the 21st century. While most frequent questions are sure to be musical feel free to ask for his take on not so frequent topics of interest, as music/art is a reflection of the greater world we live in; from movie/show reviews to travel, sports and current events, todays music scene and roller coasters - the 'question of the season' will be posted with Matthew's response and opinion. Just submit your name and location below, and check back every September, December, March and June. |
| I believe it was Jeff Walz back in the 2010s who got on his post game interview soapbox in what appeared to be a well rehearsed declamation that ignited the media firestorm on this particular social culture trend. I can’t think of a better profession than his, professional athletic coach, to use as a perfect example; to all professional athletes and those that coach them- would they be willing to play/coach under a contract system that’s strictly achievement based? I am curious what their reaction would be if their owner approached them claiming they are no longer giving out “participation paychecks”, and they get paid only for games they win. For games they lose, they must pay for their own flight, food, and accommodation. Yes, professional athletes have contracts that are laced with performance incentives, however they are none the less guaranteed a base amount regardless of result on the field; (these are actually the numbers that go reported in the announced deal, usually the incentives are not made public). When coaches get fired for poor results, they get to keep their earnings for their effort and participation. I am curious if those reading this who work in sales, would work only on a commission basis. Or if teachers would agree to only get financial remuneration for each student who gets a “A” on a independently administered test. This is not a jaded view, but more a observation of society and culture as a whole of something that at first glance to someone such as myself who grew up in the 1980’s and came of age in the 1990’s that yes, seems bizarre and even backwards, however speaks more to the fact there is probably just as many participation awards in this world as there is hypocrisy. |
| What you see here is what you get. I do not feel compelled to broadcast photos of my pets on the world wide web. I am not narcissistic enough to think people should be interested in what im eating for dinner. I have no desire to engage in monday morning quarterback armchair foreign policy with total strangers, who might not even be real to begin with. I dont even engage in this with more than half the people I know in real life. I feel I am more useful to the world around me by being a part of it and not commenting about it. |
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The two and a half years work that was put in to the album is one of my proudest achievements in my musical career. Being a solo album there is no collaboration in a musical sense, however Rzewski was well aware of my efforts and encouraged me personally. Our contact was put together by three mutual colleagues, whom I am more than grateful; Jeni Slotchiver, Richard Teitelbaum and Pauline Oliveros. Our correspondence lasted about ten years up to his passing; he was more than cooperative addressing score discrepancies, performance practices and historical creative inspirations, all in which were used for research for my doctoral dissertation. Important and even adventurous findings are all mentioned in the albums liner notes (including the bizarre account of how the North American Ballads were originally conceived as a result of a botched commission) and were told to me personally over a two hour phone call that he was so generous to grant me all the way from Belgium. A credit to him, he seemed more interested in me then I was in him, and the conversation ranged from the current musical business landscape to music education student debt, from composing art-music for a living in the twentyfirst century to current events- Fergusson Missouri, black lives matter, and him prophesying Donald Trumps election victory to a tee. It should not come as a surprise his demeanor toward me was not much different from his mannerisms exhibited in mainstream media interviews; deeply philosophical, pensive pauses interrupted by direct answers, and a tone that many including the NY Times as reported in his obituary gathered as ornery and even condescending to only questions he felt didn’t have much value or he felt the questioner knew the answer to already. The first thing I asked him on the phone after saying “hello” was “how are you?” He took a deep breath and said “Why are you bothering with these sets? I seen your videos, why aren’t you playing ‘The Road’?” He seemed to allude throughout the conversation he was most proud of “The Road”. He agreed to write the liner notes for the album as there was not much research done on the Four Pieces and Squares as at his advanced age his canon was being cemented. I do not know if he began work on these as he passed away mid way through the project. The following was our last communication, just weeks before he died.
p.s. He was a huge fan of the internet, and was active on imslp. He was not shy about voicing his frustration about people not aware of newer compositions. What struck me the most even more so now after his death was him telling me, “I write music because I want to write music, and I write music so people will play it. Im in my late seventies, I don’t want to bother with publishers. I write and put it on the internet. But apparently a great many people, particularly the Americans, think if something is for free there must be something wrong with it”
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| I am reminded of when Arrau defended Liberace asking how it could hurt if he’s drawing millions to hear classical music, or when Marsalis refuted Kenny G’s critics exclaiming that not one soul will ever go a lifetime listening to Coltrane then discover Kenny G and never listen to Coltrane again; he simply plays another genre to another audience. Indeed, he is correct, if Lizzo serves as a ‘gateway drug’ of sorts to James Galway, so be it. As far as ‘appropriateness’, from what little I know of this story apparently the Library of Congress invited her, (knowing in this day and age, she would be recorded) not the other way around. Surely they knew her line of work, which centers more of an emphasis on ‘show business’ over ‘artistry’ - a term which we all know is vague and all-encompassing. She did not damage the flute, what harm exactly was done? I do not believe the board of the Library of Congress was oblivious; the same for the super bowl when they booked mtv for the 2004 half time entertainment, or the San Diego Padres when they booked Roseanne Barr to sing the national anthem. As far as personally, I do not know Lizzo. I do not have any colleagues that do. In fact I didn’t know who she was until I flipped channels about two years ago and saw her on Saturday Night Live. Apparently she’s a gifted classically trained flautist. Im sure she’s a very sweet girl. I type this as the tv reports of a racially motivated shooting in Jacksonville. I think there is more to worry about in this world these days then who and how period instruments are played. As far as Lizzo herself, there certainly are worse ways for her and her publicity team to spend their time. I have no idea if I’m in the minority on this, to be honest I have no desire at all to check social media to find out. All I can say, is in a world where music education is being ripped out of public schools more then ever, she probably did more to inspire people to learn a instrument in that twenty seconds then any politician or school board has done in the past twenty years. |
| I was actually contacted by the producer. Of course I agreed to participate in anyway that I can and was glad they reached out. The next thing I knew the movie was out! In fact, as of today I have yet to see it, but its at the top of my 'to do's'. |
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I have been waiting to answer this one for a while, and what better opportunity than
now, as last month was Claudio Arrau’s 120th birthday. Happy birthday Maestro Arrau!
Yes indeed! My ten years of intense study with Claudio Arrau’s assistant German Diez
focused on how to correctly read and interpret a score. As Arrau said himself; “When
one asks a performer ‘why did you play that piece or passage that way? the only
acceptable response should always be ‘because the composer indicated it as such’. If
one takes issue with a certain performance when played with total fidelity to the
composers instructions, their problems are not with the performance or the
performer, but with the piece itself” The following are twenty-five known, and little known facts about Claudio Arrau, one of the greatest pianists of the past century, born 120 years ago: 1) He was born into a completely non-musical family. 2) Upon recognizing his talent, the Chilean government fully sponsored his musical education, sending him to Germany to study with the last surviving Liszt pupil Martin Krause. 3) Krause remained his only teacher, passing away when Arrau was fifteen. Arrau never sought instruction again exclaiming “once one is taught how to correctly read and interpret a score, the only ‘teacher’ is the composer” 4) His musical lineage is traced to Beethoven, as his ‘teaching tree’ indicates Krause studied with Liszt, who studied with Czerny, who studied with Beethoven. 5) At the age of twelve was playing the complete Well Tempered Clavier, in every key. (No. 1 Prelude and Fugue in all twelve keys, No. 2 Prelude and Fugue in all twelve keys etc..) 6) His habit of practicing a piece in multiple keys got the best of him and could have ended his career before it got started with a catastrophic incident- his United Sates/New York debut at Town Hall whereupon halfway though his performance of the Bach English Suite No.1, realized he was playing it in the wrong key. For the rest of his life he insisted the most challenging concert he ever played was that night; finishing the piece being aware he was transposing it (It was written in A Major, he was playing it in A-flat) 7) He is recognized in the Guinness Book of Records and Ripley’s Believe It or Not Museum for mastering the largest musical output, his record of 76 consecutive recitals performed without repeating a work will probably remain unmatched. 8) His recording the entire keyboard output of Bach on the London label is widely considered the most ambitious recording project in music history. 9) Though he played Bach frequently, he stopped midway through his life believing Bach could not be played judiciously on the modern Steinway. In frustration he claimed one should only play Bach on a period instrument or not at all. He changed his mind toward the end of his life and resumed playing Bach on the piano with even more attention to historical detail. 10) He detested Rachmaninoff (whose music he called “the greatest cocktail music ever written”) Prokofiev (whom he called “musical teen angst" - the sooner one gets over it the better) and Scriabin (whose pieces he called “musical masturbation” and added that great music should be able to stand on its own and should never be compelled to be aided or enhanced by psychological or sensual drugs) 11) Unknown to many, he did in fact play and perform Rachmaninoff 2nd Piano Concerto, as it was scheduled for him by MGM, his direct employer, for the soundtrack to the 1954 film “Rhapsody”. He claimed the only rewarding attribute of the assignment was meeting Elizabeth Taylor. 12) Contrary to popular belief he did in fact play and perform Prokofiev 3rd Piano Concerto, in a too bewildering for words account; after a concert with the Mexico City Orchestra, having drinks with conductor Carlos Chavez, he chided Arrau asking why he refused to play Prokofiev. Chaves’ tongue and cheek jested that the music was too hard for him and bet a wager he couldn’t learn Prokofiev 3rd in time for the next season. Arrau then learned the entire Concerto in three weeks (really two, it took an extra week for him to memorize it) and performed it with the Mexico City Orchestra a month later. It is unknown if the performance was recorded. 13) Averaging 120 concerts a year and obtaining dual citizenship he made his home on the north shore of Queens New York within closest proximity to an airport. At his busiest, he slept in his tuxedo on a plane exiting one stage in one city and making an entrance on another stage in another city the next afternoon. 14) On his endurance and fortitude he has said “the life of the concert artist is no different than that of a actor or athlete; no matter what personal troubles or trials occur in your life, the stage must either be your escape, or you must find a way to shelf your personal matters. Anything less than a 100% effort is a disservice to your audience. Even at 99%, it is more forthright to have a eager gifted colleague substitute for your performance, as quality to the audience is deserved and to the composer is owed. One must be able to do this, night in and night out” 15) He lived in a very large house on the water, with his wife, children, secretary, and in typical European tradition, two students he sponsored, one being my teacher, German Diez, who lived at the Arrau residence for ten years, and the other Alberto Guerrero, Glenn Goulds teacher. 16) Though many may claim to have been a student of Arrau, only four artists Arrau considered his pupils as they have had more than regular exclusive instruction as demanded by Arrau himself. “Associates” Rafael De Silva and Philip Lorenz, who were to help Arrau with his edition and “Academic Assistants” Diez and Guerrero, who because of Arraus performance schedule could never accept a position at a school, saw that his tradition be continued. Guerrero of course, oversaw the piano program at the Royal Conservatory in Toronto and Diez was nominated to chair the piano department at Indiana University, but opted instead to remain teaching In New York City. Arrau did however have a ‘open door policy’ if his schedule permitted for only dedicated artists. 17) On one such occasion; Vladimir Horowitz played his program through for Arrau in rehearsal for his 1965 Carnegie Hall Recital. Upon Horowitz confiding to Arrau “You and Rachmaninoff are the only two people whos opinion I hold in highest esteem” asked what he thought. In typical honest fashion Arrau replied “I think you are a great Scriabin player who has fast octaves” 18) Only Arrau and Alicia de Larrocha were personally invited as guests to Horowitz 1965 Recital, where they both sat together backstage alongside Horowitz wife and manager and collectively pushed him on stage when he froze with stage fright. 19) His hobby was collecting facsimiles of original manuscripts. 20) His pre-recital green room routine was to stare deeply for a half an hour at the facsimile autograph, taking a mental photograph of the writing, in preparation to ‘report’ to the audience the composers direct message. He would then warm up on the worst piano in-house, preferably a old upright, so upon playing the first note on stage on the best Steinway available, it would seem “refreshing” 21) Despite his ‘bread and butter’ being the high classical style, he was more then astutely attentive to modern music of his time and did more than dabble with Boulez, Stockhausen, Ligeti, Cage, Nancarrow, Messiaen, Berio etc. Almost uncharacteristic, he was more than open minded about contemporary trends claiming “akin to a tree falling in a forrest not making a sound if no one hears it, it is impossible to ascertain if art has value if it is not given a chance”. He did however consider the minimalist music of the 1960s a “gimmick” 22) He took a rather controversial stance in the field when he defended Liberace and the likes, claiming “If what he is doing, exposing classical music to the masses, how is this a bad thing?” 23) There is no other classical performing artist who from start to finish of their professional career, had continuous positive reviews from the press. Revered by critics, mentioned at worst were his slow tempos due to overanalytical fussiness yielding interpretations that did not ‘wow’ an audience with flashy finger work but rather cerebral detail. 24) There are statues, monuments and busts of Arrau in Germany and Chile. There is a official Chilean post stamp, the main street in downtown Santiago is named in honor of him and there is continued debate if he should be on Chilean currency. 25) Of his three children and numerous grandchildren, none expressed an interest in music, nor were they ever encouraged.
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| I know the answer you are looking for; and of course I would be a fool if I didn’t say Paris in the 1830’s. It’s tough, however I’d actually keep it just a little closer to home and go with Beverly Hills in the 1940’s. Schoenberg, Stravinsky, Rachmaninoff and Gershwin living within a Sunday morning jogs distance of each other. Who knows, maybe I could have been the one to broker peace between the former two. |
| Wiener Urtext, alongside the facsimile of the original manuscript, if available |
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Underrated:
Heitor Villa-Lobos Five Piano Concerti; all of them good. For a writer whose primary instrument wasn’t piano (guitar) had an uncanny knack for piano writing. Both books of “Prole do Bebe” though not as innovative, rival both books of Debussy's Preludes. Shined equally in every genre without possessing a weakness - instrumental, chamber, ballet, sacred, song, symphony (he wrote 12!). He was also known to be the kindest, pleasant and gentle hearted giving soul of a human being. There’s a reason he's on Brazilian currency. Ottorino Respighi There is more than a masterful stroke of craftsmanship to his counterpoint, every musical idea is refined. Like Brahms, every note makes sense. This is no less reflected in his small amount of piano repertoire. It’s surprising even active concertgoers don’t know he wrote a Piano Concerto. Ruth Crawford-Seeger She was ahead of her time, employing complete serial techniques well before Babbitt, Carter and Boulez. I will never forget the first time I heard “Chinaman, Laundryman”, I did not know where to begin; you can spend a lifetime analyzing this and barely scratch the surface. I would like to emphasize that I do not associate the term “overrated” with “poor”. In fact, in order for one to be considered “overrated” ones work must have mass appeal and popularity to begin with, thus this term can only apply to artists who have achieved vast success in the first place, as accomplishment alone does not make one a “bad” composer. I expand on the term “overrated” as it applies to artists whose efforts fell short of their gifts and contributions to the historical musical canon were greater in other endeavors but not their musical ideas themself. Felix Mendelssohn It is nothing short of a travesty the greatest child prodigy next to Mozart used his gifts to write music that is everything but profound. This is not his fault, but probably a result of his privileged upbringing, which unquestionably resulted in fascinating yet dated musical ideas. Unquestionably, his musical legacy rests on him singlehandedly revitalizing and even popularizing Bach’s music more so than his own. Camille Saint-Saens What a shame the smartest of all composers left a legacy of music that will do many things to an audience except ennoble. One of the most conservative writers, there wasn’t any new idea he didn’t detest and anyone who aspired for the adventurous (impressionism) he didn’t distance himself from. Almost shallow in its agreeableness, the best credit to his music is it stayed true to himself. His immeasurable contributions of research and resurrection of the early French School cement his legacy more than his music. Edward Elgar I find it no coincidence it always seems the people who list Elgar their favorite composer always seem to be the people who don’t know much about music. |
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I will give you seven:
Modern day neglected: Stanislav Bunin. His performance of Bach Italian Concerto is the best I ever heard. Historically forgotten: Ernst Levy. I have never been taken in the first note of a recording and held captivated then his performance of Liszt Bénédiction de Dieu dans la Solitude. This is top-flight playing, reminiscent of Arthur Rubinstein. Historically unknown: Ignace Tiegerman. Egypt of all places. It has never been confirmed if Vladimir Horowitz successfully sabotaged his career but of the few recordings we have it is understandable why he feared him. Unfortunate: Paul Jacobs. An abnormal talent who was taken from us too soon. Unjust: Eugene List. A refined and disciplined showman whos career should have been more than decent. Misunderstood: Sergei Prokofiev. As more and more Soviet recordings surface, you can’t help but be amazed; he knew how to write for piano because he understood the capabilities and limitations of the hands. Outstanding yet still under appreciated: Art Tatum. Yes, the great Art Tatum. What I would do to have just a scintilla of his chops. |
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Hardest thing to play on a piano? I’d imagine a spirited game of hide-and-go-seek. Maybe baseball, ultimate frisbee or ice hockey.
As far as songs or pieces; this of course is highly opinionated, subjective and arbitrary, as every pianists hands, capacity and learning styles are different. When the issue of difficulty arises the topic “technique” almost always comes in to play. Without trying to open another pandora’s box, this is a rather complex, even vague word; simply ask any serious musician what “technique” is and be prepared for a half hour discourse in the end you wish you did not initiate. I personally define “technique” as the physical execution of conveying a musical intention. But “technique” is only one dimension of music-making. As for the others here is a short list of my own personal experiences: Hardest piece to convey/make sense of to an unforgiving impatient audience: Schubert G Major Sonata D.894. The piece is a trap; There is no other musical work where if performed with apathy will result with the audience feeling the same way. Schubert’s music is exceptional as a whole, it takes a certain type of performer to emotionally convey its effectiveness. Hardest piece to memorize: Bartok: Nights Music from Out Of Doors suite. Like anything written by this math wiz, he intentionally avoids parallel period, employs asymmetry, mixed and compound meter, golden section and fibonacci series making the music virtually patternless. I was miserably mistaken when I thought I could get this piece prepared overnight for a concert, and spent 12 hours a day a week before just memorizing seven pages of music. Hardest piece to hold together: Scriabin 3rd sonata Hardest piece to play under pressure: Barber Piano Concerto, particularity the 3rd mvt. There are certain mysteries of the universe that surpass the realm of reality- Bigfoot, the Loch Ness monster, and how John Browning learned this in two weeks. All put together, the following are my own top 5 pieces I personally have found hardest- Liszt: Transcendental Étude No. 5 "Feux follets" I know more than a few people who started practicing this at age five, and still feel they can not give it justice. The Vladimir Ashkenazy studio recording is the gold standard. Messiaen: Etude No. 2 “Mode de valeurs et d’intensités” I gave up after the first page, my heart simply was not in it Mozart-Liszt: Réminiscences de Don Juan. No other piece balances endurance and technical capacity Prokofiev: Sonata No. 8 Op. 84. What a mirror of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, the second movement - a flower between two chasms. The twenty minute first mvt remains the hardest piece for me to emotionally project, and keep an audience engaged. The finale is a technical nightmare; to play the treacherous last three pages in initial tempo is one task, without fatigue is another. Let alone the piece as a whole is a wonder in mature writing, and can not be played effectively in the hands of those who have not “lived life” Stravinsky: Three Movements from Petrushka. It is beyond me how so many pianists are able to play this. I will also give a honorable mention to Ligeti Etude No. 6 Automne à Varsovie. One of these days when I have more time on my hands I will finish this never ending quest of "minimalism as maximalism"; to be able to execute each line independantly and convey this to the audience seems to take more energy and focused concentration then any Bach fugue I have attempted to tackle. As for piano concerti, it may come as a surprise, but no concerto has given me more trouble, more frustrating practice, more concentrated effort than Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto (No.1). And yet it is tackled en masse, i find it incomprehensible with all its demands you can shake a tree in Central Park and five pianists fall out who can play it drop of a hat. To play the passagework melodiously in m.195-226 of the 3rd mvt is more demanding then the entire 2nd mvt of Prokofiev Second Piano Concerto. I confess nothing scares me more than m.81-97 of the 2nd mvt, to play solo is easy, to play in time collaboratively with orchestra has actually kept me up at night. The composers forgivable ignorance of pianistic writing is abundant in m.40-47 of the 1st mvt. To play the arpeggio passagework (written “a tempo” [!] and not in cadenza notes in the manuscript) completely in solid 3/4 time is of irrational difficulty that is somewhat out of proportion to what is deemed playable. There has never been a pianist able to do it to date; Mikhail Pletnev comes the closest. I suppose it will always seem the ‘holy grail’ of pianism is playing a Bach Fugue with perfect voicing, executing the structure of the classical sonata-allegro form, conveying a idiomatic operatic effect of a Mozart slow movement on a percussion instrument and mastering a Chopin Nocturne in convincing bel canto style. And yet, even with all this I will insist the highest mountain to attain, the most worthy goal to achieve will always be to play the music of Mozart to perfection. Many teachers begin with Mozart first; and there are many reasons. Any dedicated perfectionist will feast on the perceived simplicity; there is always more you can give the music. The effort that goes in to phrasing every line, employing correct articulation, playing in time and communicating the desired melodious effect - there is never enough work to do! Like the Chopin Etudes you can not hide your sins by simply throwing the pedal down. Sloppy playing may be able to run with Chopin, but it can neither run nor hide with Mozart. Most valuable, the tools at work in Mozart can be applied to any other genre, from Bach to Rachmaninoff and beyond. My chamber coach, Ruth Laredo, demanded every semester begin with Mozart. She held Brahms Violin Sonatas hostage until my violinist and I played every phrase, the contour of every line and nuance to historical accuracy to (her) perfection. The weeks of hours in the practice room playing “simple” two movement Mozart sonatas attest: nothing tests you more than Mozart. |
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Greetings once again, unless this is another Tim in Draper who is following up on last entry - as have Andrew in Tesuque New Mexico and Joan in Boynton Beach Florida; this may be a record, three people ask the same question in a month! I confess I waffled, this question is not an easy one. In fact it has given me more than a sleepless nights thoughts; to pick just one favorite. I can not say I have only one favorite piece. This is akin to asking a parent which is their favorite child. What I can say is there are some pieces that no matter how many times I play or practice them, my enthusiasm remains strong, they always seem fresh, never uninspired. No matter what mood I am in, if I hit that first note, my hands don’t want to leave the keys until the last. Some are new, some have grown on me over time, and some have been active in my repertoire since I was a teenager. Thanks to you, I have taken inventory: Alkan: Etude in D minor Op 39 No. 2 En rhythme molossique Bach: Corrente from Partita No. 6 in E minor Barber: Excursion No. 4 in F Major Beethoven: Andante favorii WoO. 57 Second mvt Scherzo from the Hammerklavier Sonata Op. 106 Brahms: Ballade Op. 10 No. 4 in B Major Variations on a Hungarian Song Op. 21 No. 2 Chopin: Mazurkas Op. 17 No. 3 in A Flat Major Op. 24 No. 2 in C major Op. 30 No. 4 in C Sharp minor Op. 41 No. 1 in C Sharp minor, No. 3 in B Major, No. 4 in A Flat Major Op. 56 No. 1 in B Major Copland: Third movement from the Piano Sonata Debussy: Image Bk. II No. 1 Cloches à travers les feuilles Grieg: Lyric Piece Op. 57 No. 6 Homesickness Haydn: Finale of Sonata in E Flat Major No. 45 Ives: Study No. 23 Liszt: Grandes Etude No. 7 in E Flat Major S. 137 Nocturne in B Major Les cloches de Genève Transcendental Etude No. 6 Vision Messiaen: Vingt Regards sur l’enfant-Jésus No. 12 La parole toute puissante Mozart: Finale of Sonata No. 3 in B Flat Major K. 281 Prokofiev: Cadenza of the first mvt of Piano Concerto No. 2 First mvt of Sonata No. 6 Rachmaninoff: Etude in D minor Op. 39 No. 8 Ravel: Miroirs No. 5 La vallée des cloches Respighi: Three Preludes on Gregorian Melodies No. 3 Scarlatti: Sonata in B minor K. 27 Schubert: First and last mvt of the Wanderer Fantasy Schumann: First mvt of Faschingsschwank aus Wien Op. 26 First mvt from Nachtstucke Op. 23 Scriabin: Etude Op. 65 No. 3 Feuillett d’album Op. 45 No. 1 in E flat minor Poeme Op. 72 Vers la flamme Shostakovich: Prelude and Fugue in E minor Op. 87 No. 4 Fugue in A Major Op. 87 No. 7 I would also add to this list Chopin’s “Heroic” Polonaise in A Flat Major Op. 53. I must have played this piece for hours a day when I learned it when I was twelve. I don’t think I learned any complex piece faster. A year later I played it in three competitions. A year after that I closed the program with it at Carnegie Hall, and still remember the ovation. Twenty-six years later it seems I can not begin without having to play through till the end. |
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Thank you for writing, though your question gave me pause; do you mean “song” as in piano/vocal, or piano solo instrumental? Or anything that I have played on piano in general? Your question actually reminded me of a very fond and signature memory. My very first lesson with Nina Svetlanova, who upon hearing me perform in Cincinnati in 1995, invited me to play for her; what would be the first of many lessons for the next seven years. I still remember sitting on the couch in her high rise overlooking Times Square, and getting to know each other - asking what repertoire I play(ed). My fourteen year old self must have referred to the repertoire as ‘songs’, as at one point she interrupted abruptly and said “My dear, you do not play songs, you play pieces. Songs are what you play when you accompany a singer; I did not bring you here to play for me while I sing(!). Pieces are what we refer to as instrumental music.” Thus, the very first thing she ever taught me was the difference between a ‘song’ and a ‘piece’. If I understand and interpret your question texturally, my favorite song is Chopin’s “The Ring”. The simplicity, the tenderness, his characteristic use of seventh chords combined with his uncharacteristic use of uniform structure; unlike most his great pieces, there’s no ‘bloating’ of a main theme toward a climax. The word painting aligns to the piano accompanying waltz (mazurka?) rather than reflects the text, which was by far the most profound of all 19 prose he set to music. Even the mysteriousness of the piece itself in conception; of 230 works all but 12 for piano solo, and yet there is no evidence as to why exactly he wrote this - the only opus published unbeknownst to him. I have 2 honorable mentions as well - one, another Polish patriot, Szymanowski “Songs of the Infatuated Muezzin” particularly “Allah, Allah, Akbar” and “At noon, the city”. This set fascinates; the humorous exoticism, the challenge to perform them convincingly. They are hard to play. Certainly not as popular as Schubert lieder however Sviatoslav Richter had them active in his repertoire. The other, William Bolcom’s arrangement of “Come Down Ma Evenin’ Star”. So nostalgic! and something distinctly American sounding. |
| Thank you for coming out, I still remember the warm ovation! You are not the first person to ask, but I do in fact play all twenty; I was scheduled for a return engagement in the Bay Area in 2020 but alas the virus pandemic put that, and other concerts and projects on hold. It is good to see things are starting to resemble some type of normal now, so stay tuned… |
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I have known since I was eleven years old, roughly two years after taking my first piano lesson and giving my first professional concert. My grandparents were furriers in New York for decades. They cashed in the business and bought a yacht in the late 1980s and spent their retirement sailing up and down the east coast. The summers of my childhood were spent with them on the boat. In the summer of 1992, I went to visit them in Abaco Bahamas; not a day went by that I didn’t mix in my new hobby alongside diving, fishing and trying to blend with the locals. Being the music geek I was, I even brought along my music scores alongside my bathing suit and sunscreen! My first day I searched in hopes of finding even just a keyboard, and did, at a locally owned resort hotel on the other side of the island. Every day I would walk, hitch or even take a dinghy to the Abaco Beach Resort, where I would practice on an old upright in the hotel’s recreation room. The owner and staff did not mind as each day more of a crowd would stand outside the door and listen. Roughly two weeks in I would show up and a crowd would be waiting for me. On one of my last nights before heading home the owner asked me if I would be the nightly entertainment for the hotel guests. I still remember being introduced; “Beautiful people, the junkanoo band we booked for tonight canceled, but no worries everything’s alright (evry-ting irie) we found a white boy who plays that European serious music, so instead of rake and scrape we have a piano recital, I think you will find this amazin”. And with that, in a tank top and long pants I was given at the hotels gift shop as I didn’t exactly pack a tuxedo, I played an hour and a half to a mix of about one hundred tourists, sailors, the Abaco Rotary Club and local Bahamians, many in which have never heard classical music before. Bach Inventions, Ibert Histories, Beethoven G Major Sonata Op. 14 No. 2, Mozart Rondo a la Turca, Chopin A Major Polonaise, and two encores, the Paderewski Minuet in G and Chopin Revolutionary Etude. Afterwards the owner handed me an envelope with a fifty-dollar bill inside; not too bad for 1992, and a king’s ransom to an eleven-year-old. That bill never left my hand the entire walk back to the boat with my grandparents, where I toiled with the incomprehensible thought of getting paid to do something I love. My whole life up to that point I figured work was called “work” for a reason; you were not supposed to like your job, your profession was simply a means of making money so you can do things you like. My grandmother told me “roughly sixty percent of Americans don’t like their job. A professional by definition is someone who gets paid for providing a service and I provided a service to the hotel that night by entertaining their guests. To do what you love and make a living out of it, that’s more than uncommon, it's a blessing”. I slept holding that fifty-dollar bill that night. In fact, upon receiving, it never left my gorilla grip until I spent it all the next morning (on scuba and diving gear, fishing bait and a fruit champagne goombay punch soda). I still remember that walk back from the Abaco Beach Resort to the Marsh Harbor Marina (both have been destroyed by the 2019 storm) feeling both content yet dumbfounded how I have made money simply by sharing with people what makes me happy. Practicing became an act of diligence and reciprocation; the more I pushed myself the more gratifying I found the result, content with the effort and ambition and newfound patience and even appreciation for the process. For the first time in my life feelings surfaced that are common to many artists; I did not choose the profession, it chose me, and my life was never the same.
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