How Much Should We Practice?

This is because I need an excuse to not stress about not getting in my four+ hours every day.

Read here.

Mozart Piano Concerto #22

I apologize for my negligence. I feel like I'm drowning in music that I need to learn. Among the music is my lovely Mozart concerto. (As an aside, I love it when, while learning a piece, friends reach the point where they begin calling it "their" piece. Their concerto. Their sonata. I think that it's a milestone in the personal development of the musical learning process. If that makes sense.)

I don't know why pianists don't play this concerto more often. To be honest, this is the piece that sold me on Mozart concertos. I never found them to be particularly interesting or engaging before. Though, it could also be my taste, which (I hope) is expanding and refining.

I could write for ages about how much I love this concerto. But I've only memorized the first movement, so I'll talk about the others later. (I never feel that a piece is really known, internalized, until it's memorized.) I love that it opens with big, triumphant E-flat chords. It reminds me of Beethoven's Emperor Concerto, though maybe with less bravado. It quickly withdraws into a pretty, sweet melody. For four measures. Then the E-flat chords are back! It's so teasing and charming and just delightful. The piano work is brimming with fast scales and arpeggio figurations. It keeps with the charming character, I think.

Listen to an Annie Fischer recording, if you can find one. She doesn't take the piece too seriously, and I think that's key.

How to Be a Concert Pianist

I had to read an article for my piano pedagogy class about concert pianists. Some researcher got together a bunch of concert pianists and asked them about their lives. It turns out that there are quite a few similarities among the pianists. Here's a bit from what I wrote (and I wrote it in a hurry, so forgive my potentially poor writing).

"All of the pianists started piano lessons at a fairly young age. Interestingly, most did not take lessons of their own accord. Common through all of the pianists was the parents’ belief in the value of music lessons. Even when the parents were not musical themselves, they insisted on piano lessons for their child, and almost all relied on teachers who lived close by. The first teacher was generally an average pianist, though all of the pianists had fond memories of their first teacher. Lessons were basic, and regular recitals were part of said lessons. Most of the pianists practiced at least one hour per day at this early stage, and a parent would often sit in on the practice sessions, praising the child and giving instruction as needed.

By high school, most of the pianists had moved on to new and better teachers. Lessons became more detailed, dealing with interpretation, technique, and building repertoire. It was at this point that most of the pianists began to develop a deeper commitment to the piano, listening to recordings, attending concerts, and reading books about composers, for example. Practice became less about time and more about what one needed to do with the music. Many of the pianists started to play in youth competitions. Notably, the pianists who participated in these competitions stressed that merely playing in the competitions was much more important than winning or losing. By this point, it was obvious to most of the pianists that a career in music was eminent.

Between the ages of twelve and nineteen, the pianists started lessons with master teachers. At this point, they were working with professional musicians who understood the implications of a solo career as a concert pianist. The amount of work required for each lesson demanded a minimum of four hours of practice per day, sometimes more. All of the pianists mentioned that it was at this point that they began to take charge of their music, interpreting the music for themselves, rather than interpreting solely on a teacher’s advice. In a sense, they took over their own development. "

Cherubino

Good news: School started last week! Hoorah!

Bad news: The new studio accompanying teacher thought that it would be a brilliant idea to give us all two Mozart aria accompaniments to learn. In a week. And not just any week, but the first week of school. It wouldn’t be so bad. I love Mozart. Really. We’re like blood brothers this semester. But Mozart’s cute little sense of humor makes these arias excessively difficult to play.

The opera is The Marriage of Figaro, and the arias are Cherubino’s. I don’t pretend to know much about opera, but Cherubino is a charming character. He’s a page, meaning he’s 15-ish years old. I would say that he provides comic relief, but I’m pretty sure that this whole opera is one giant comic relief. At any rate, Cherubino sings about how he is plagued by love, and falls deeply in love with every woman he sees (essentially). And we can’t blame him. Falling in love is, after all, one of the favorite pastimes of romantic adolescent boys. The arias themselves would be somewhat serious, except for the fact that they’re played/sung at ludicrously quick tempos. (You can listen to them here and here.) Hence my problem trying to learn them in a week.

They can’t be learned well in a week, I say, after trying very laboriously and neglecting other Mozart and new Chopin in the process. They might even sound a bit sober tomorrow. Quelle horreur, Monsieur Mozart!

Street Pianos

Obviously, I am very behind the times here. I heard about this project a few weeks ago, after it had concluded in New York. With that being said, I admire what this man is doing. I try very hard to keep my posts from being too personal, because there are very few people who would want to read about my personal life. But I want people to know why it is that I find this project--the goal of which is the sharing of music--to be so inspiring.

I've been a good pianist for quite some time now, but I've been a dismal performer until very recently. And believe me, I am still learning, and have a very long way to go. The reason for my terrible performance skills wasn't due to lack of ability. I merely did not understand the concept of engaging an audience. In my mind, there was an invisible wall between *my* person and *my* music, and the people sitting in the seats in front of me. I didn't want to share the music, because it was mine. I believed that the audience wouldn't understand anyway. Most importantly, I did not realize that it was, in fact, my job as a performer to share music with the people who were there to listen.

Eventually, I came to see that this idea of my being solitary, alone in the music, was not what I needed to continue to be happy with my chosen career. Essentially, I had a eureka moment, and came to the realization that the only way I could have long-term musical contentment was by playing *to*someone. When I play Beethoven, for example, I want the audience to feel what I am feeling when I play.

What I'm trying to say is this. It's best when someone is there to listen. And that is why I love Luke Jerram and what he's doing.

I'm fairly certain that I sound disgustingly pretentious right now. Share the music, man, and all that jazz. This is what happens when I'm feeling especially feminine and become inspired to write about feelings. So forgive me, and thank you for humoring me by reading this, if indeed you made it through to the end.

More Temperaments

Somehow, I doubt that anyone who reads this blog is as interested in temperaments as I am. However, I find it fascinating. As a result, I want to be able to explain it well, and I'm afraid that I fell short last time. This is merely another explanation. I'm not forcing you to read it, and forgive me for my single-mindedness concerning topics that interest me.

Chopin Nocturne Op. 72 No. 1

A friend and I were talking music last night, and this piece came up in conversation. Of course, I had to revisit the piece, and it's as wonderful as I remember. It's an appropriate piece for an empty music building at 6 am. It's lonely-sounding.

As angsty as this piece is, I really do love it. Chopin composed the piece when he was seventeen. He was like that emo kid in high school that no one likes, the one who writes really self-absorbed songs about being misunderstood, accompanied by mediocre guitar strumming. I'm convinced that Chopin was trying to convey the same emotions, but *he* actually did a good job. I'm looking at you, emo kid.

I'm shamelessly poking fun, but I really don't take this piece lightly. It's heartbreakingly beautiful. I love piano, and I love playing. But I can count on one hand the pieces I've played that have really moved me, and this is one of them. I'm a sucker for Chopin, but it's gorgeous. Listen here.

This is supposedly Chopin's first nocturne, and it's much more simple harmonically and melodically than some of his later nocturnes. Personally, I find that appealing. There's nothing to hide behind, there are very few moments of virtuosity. It's delicate and sensitive and emotional.

Enjoy.

BONUS: EMANUEL AX IS COMING TO BAYLOR. AM I EXCITED?! I AM EXCITED!