As I mentioned in my last post, I am currently reading a book on New Testament words and seeking some meaningful and creative outcome as I take those words into my piano studio. The book is William Barclay's New Testament Words.
This week, I became more deeply aware of the words charisma and ekklesia, words for God's free gifts and God's called assembly, the church. I also became acquainted with the words diatheke and eilikrineia.
Diatheke is word used of covenants but it connotes something more like a will in that it is entered into on the terms of one of the parties, not both. It occurs to me that the musical score is a little like this. Its author is usually beyond our reach, often deceased, so it is a will of sorts. It is ultimately some sort of expression of the composer's intentions regardless of my ability to discern or interpret them and whether or not I bring an agenda of my own to the enterprise. Perhaps this calls for an adjustment of my attitude to keep in mind the real person behind the notes I play and to make more room for their presence in my study and music making.
Eilikrineia is word for purity. It is accompanied by images of being shaken through a sieve and being brought out into the light to be judged.
In one lesson this week a student brought in Liszt's famous C-Sharp Minor Hungarian Rhapsody. The piece is in two large sections, the first of which sets the dramatic tone and introduces the materials explored in the other. The second section begins with a mysterious dance tune which Liszt varies kaleidoscopically and grows to monumental proportions. Having read of eilikrineia, it seemed to me that this little theme was a bit like a shiny object glimpsed in the dim light of a tent at market that is then brought out into the open to reveal its truly spectacular qualities under intense sunlight. Here's a link to a brilliant performance with a film of the musical score timed so you can follow it as you listen. The portion I am referencing begins at 4:38. Marc-Andre Hamelin playing Liszt 's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2.
On my own in the studio, eilikineia shed some light on the process of practicing. I'm practicing music from the Parthenia these days. The Parthenia is an anthology of English keyboard music compiled in 1611. I think it's the oldest stuff I've played on piano. At the beginning of the process, the structure and flow of the music was a bit of a mystery to me. These are not 18th century preludes and fugues. These are 17th century preludes and pavanes and galliards. Day by day, I practice them and try to hear them clearly. Over time, I have started to see how they are organized and have developed some intentions of my own about how to play the overlapping contrapuntal lines that fill these dance movements. I've also noticed that practicing William Byrd can be mildly addictive. Here's a link to a little something Stokowski did with one of these pieces a pavane, Earl of Salisbury.
In more general terms, the effort of disciplined practicing (for a sort of grown-up musician) is about shedding more and more light on one's technique and interpretive grasp, and the structure of the music itself.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Pianists and Other Friends
Strange fog and eerie sunlight this morning in Lakeland - it was like driving through a cloud, or a Turner painting. This afternoon, non-stop diagonal mist.
Feeling tired, I left school a little early. I saw a colleague in the parking lot who was doing the same. Now, with a comforting cup of tea in hand, I'm contemplating and resonating with all my middle-aged friends near and far who struggle with energy, health, beauracracy, family issues, anxiety, etc. on afternoons like this. Know I prayed for you today, friends.
Feeling scattered, it occurs to me how important a schedule can be in times like these. I have some time for practicing, composing, correspondence, study . . . but if I don't schedule when I will do them, I have a hard time settling down and really focusing.
The fall was a sketchy blogging time for me. I don't k now what happened to November. Maybe I should have scheduled blogging. But the spring semester should find me blogging about once a week regarding a new little project. In an effort to spiritually enliven my imagination and discipline when it comes to teaching piano lessons, I'm reading a book on biblical words and trying to find some connections between these words and what happens in my studio. I'll start reporting tomorrow.
Another topic (an idea I don't want to lose track of so I'm writing about it now) is a certain perspective on pianism that clicked for me over the Christmas break.
I've done a lot of work as utility pianist or pianist-on-call the last few years and reflecting on what that has done to my pianism led me to think of how pianists might fit into various classifications. Beware. Broad generalizations follow.
What do I mean by utility or pianist-on-call? I mean the keyboardist in a community (a church, school, etc.) who catches the loose ends. There's lots of piano work to be done in these institutions - a little musical theater coaching here, accompaniment for a viola student there, a choral anthem here, an orchestral piano part there, and so forth. It's fun to be needed, but the danger is this: you spend a lot of time playing music that is well within your abilities and doing so with little preparation. If this becomes your primary diet for several years, it will change who you are in ways you might not like.
In addition to the utility pianist, there is the concert pianist. For my own classification on this one occasion, I will define that in a very specific way. The concert pianist is about the concert, about performance.
Another possibility, which for want of a better term I will call the classical pianist, is the pianist whose focus is the poetry of piano playing. Of course this potry involves performance, and performance involves poetry. What I am noting is a difference in focus or degree. It seems to me that many pianists of what I am calling the classical type gravitate toward college jobs where their tendency toward reflective work is appreciated.
I used to be the concert pianist type. I was all about that magical, powerful moment in which the audience is affected. These days, I'm a little more of the classical type and seek to bring my audience and community some awareness of the beauty and tradition that I am trying to perpetuate and develop.
Then there is the jazz pianist who is very much a composer but also a performer.
And of course, there are all those hard-working musicians who use pianistic skills for specific tasks which doen't necessarily require continuing advancement of those skills. This might include people like the school music teacher or the accompanist at church.
My descriptions should not be read as value judgements but as recognitions of dynamics, requirements ot different types of work, and differences of ever-evolvimg personalities.
I should go practice.
Feeling tired, I left school a little early. I saw a colleague in the parking lot who was doing the same. Now, with a comforting cup of tea in hand, I'm contemplating and resonating with all my middle-aged friends near and far who struggle with energy, health, beauracracy, family issues, anxiety, etc. on afternoons like this. Know I prayed for you today, friends.
Feeling scattered, it occurs to me how important a schedule can be in times like these. I have some time for practicing, composing, correspondence, study . . . but if I don't schedule when I will do them, I have a hard time settling down and really focusing.
The fall was a sketchy blogging time for me. I don't k now what happened to November. Maybe I should have scheduled blogging. But the spring semester should find me blogging about once a week regarding a new little project. In an effort to spiritually enliven my imagination and discipline when it comes to teaching piano lessons, I'm reading a book on biblical words and trying to find some connections between these words and what happens in my studio. I'll start reporting tomorrow.
Another topic (an idea I don't want to lose track of so I'm writing about it now) is a certain perspective on pianism that clicked for me over the Christmas break.
I've done a lot of work as utility pianist or pianist-on-call the last few years and reflecting on what that has done to my pianism led me to think of how pianists might fit into various classifications. Beware. Broad generalizations follow.
What do I mean by utility or pianist-on-call? I mean the keyboardist in a community (a church, school, etc.) who catches the loose ends. There's lots of piano work to be done in these institutions - a little musical theater coaching here, accompaniment for a viola student there, a choral anthem here, an orchestral piano part there, and so forth. It's fun to be needed, but the danger is this: you spend a lot of time playing music that is well within your abilities and doing so with little preparation. If this becomes your primary diet for several years, it will change who you are in ways you might not like.
In addition to the utility pianist, there is the concert pianist. For my own classification on this one occasion, I will define that in a very specific way. The concert pianist is about the concert, about performance.
Another possibility, which for want of a better term I will call the classical pianist, is the pianist whose focus is the poetry of piano playing. Of course this potry involves performance, and performance involves poetry. What I am noting is a difference in focus or degree. It seems to me that many pianists of what I am calling the classical type gravitate toward college jobs where their tendency toward reflective work is appreciated.
I used to be the concert pianist type. I was all about that magical, powerful moment in which the audience is affected. These days, I'm a little more of the classical type and seek to bring my audience and community some awareness of the beauty and tradition that I am trying to perpetuate and develop.
Then there is the jazz pianist who is very much a composer but also a performer.
And of course, there are all those hard-working musicians who use pianistic skills for specific tasks which doen't necessarily require continuing advancement of those skills. This might include people like the school music teacher or the accompanist at church.
My descriptions should not be read as value judgements but as recognitions of dynamics, requirements ot different types of work, and differences of ever-evolvimg personalities.
I should go practice.
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