Hi,
I have a new website, and for the sake of simplicity, my blog posts will be on that site.
The new website is still at www.steventhachuk.com
The blog page is: http://www.steventhachuk.com/blog.html
You can subscribe to it in 2 ways .
The website feed: feed://www.steventhachuk.com/1/feed
Feedburner feed: http://feeds.feedburner.com/StevenThachuk-ClassicalGuitar-Blog
Thanks for following me. The summer should be a time when there will be some new posts. I have a lot of projects ongoing, a book on Reginald Smith Brindle, a study of some of Bream's recordings, and I'm prepping a new pedagogy course for Cal State Northridge..so I'll have plenty of thoughts. Hope you'll subscribe!
ST
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Remembering Dr. Ron Purcell, First President of GFA
It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of one of the pioneering figures of American classical guitar and the first president of the Guitar Foundation of America. Dr. Ronald Charles Purcell (1932-2011) was a concert artist, pedagogue, scholar and passionate champion of the guitar. He died peacefully at his home in Sherman Oaks, California on September 7, 2011 from complications of a stroke suffered on the previous 18th of June.
Along with Thomas Heck and Roy Petschauer, Dr. Purcell established the first Guitar Division of the American String Teachers Association in 1973 and organized the first ASTA National Guitar Symposium at the University of California-Santa Barbara campus in September of 1973, which drew 53 participants from around the United States and Canada, and resulted in the founding of the Guitar Foundation of America. Ron served as president of GFA from 1973 until 1979, was on the Board of Directors from 1980 to 1982, and directed the 1995 GFA Convention at California State University at Northridge. He was a regular contributor to GFA's quarterly journal, Soundboard. For the last several years, he was vice president to the Board of Directors for the Augustine Foundation.
Dr. Purcell was also a pioneer in university-level guitar instruction in the United States, initiating the guitar program at CSUN and serving as the head of the Guitar Department from 1971 until he retired as Professor of Guitar and Music History in 2006. He established the International Guitar Research Archives at CSUN and was active as its director until his recent stroke. Countless students benefited from his passionate teaching and tireless advocacy for the instrument in American universities. He created several scholarships at the university, and after his retirement from chairing the guitar program, returned regularly as Professor Emeritus to educate a new generation of players. Dr. Purcell founded the International Guitar Research Archive (IGRA), one of the largest repositories of printed guitar music in the world, and acted as director of the archive since its inception.
In addition to two books and numerous performance editions for a variety of publishers, Dr. Purcell wrote various articles on the guitar and its repertoire and served as guitar editor for the American String Teacher Association's ASTA Journal. He was involved with the scholarly editing of classical guitar music for many years and acted as the general guitar editor for Belwin Mills in the 1970s and 1980s. He also edited the complete works of Laurindo Almeida for Mel Bay Publications.
Family, students, colleagues, friends, and lovers of the guitar have suffered an enormous loss on September 7th, 2011, and we do honor to this great man by continuing to proceed in our lives as Ron would: with art, intelligence, humor and passion.
A memorial service at California State University, Northridge, will be held at a date to be determined.
Ron was my friend, mentor, golf buddy, and the man I owe a great deal of my success to. I will miss you, Ron..
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Apologies!
Hi,
I apologize for not writing recently. I was recently very busy with moving and home things, as well as a great trip to Germany.
There are a number of posts almost ready to go, and I hope to have some up within the next week are so.
Keep practicing!!
ST
I apologize for not writing recently. I was recently very busy with moving and home things, as well as a great trip to Germany.
There are a number of posts almost ready to go, and I hope to have some up within the next week are so.
Keep practicing!!
ST
Saturday, March 5, 2011
An Objective View of Fingerings-Part 2 (Swinging Singles)
As I implied in my last positing, not all fingerings on the printed edition in front of you are meant to make the learning of the piece easier (technical fingerings). Some bear very specific phrasing implications. Now..those of you who have been reading my past few posts know that I advocate finding your own way to interpret music, and have your considerations and relationships to the notes be present in performance. What I am going to advocate today is to have a look at these "phrase fingerings", and find out what we can learn. This is especially true with markings found in Segovia's editions of works. Many of his fingerings directly imply a phrasing point of view and should be considered.
"But why, Dr. Steve? I'm an individual, I'm special, my girlfriend finds my musical sensibilities impeccable, etc...." I hear this a lot from students (or some variant thereof).
My answer usually boils down to tradition. When I was in my early twenties, it was very much in vogue for students to eschew fingerings, especially those of Segovia's. We viewed them as old-fashioned, belonging to a style that was past and perhaps a bit too much "heart on the sleeve." Perhaps I studied too much post-modern theory in college, but in recent years, I no longer buy into the view that music history is a progress narrative - a timeline in which Beethoven improved upon the style Mozart, Berlioz improved the language and instrumentation of Beethoven, and Wagner improved upon the notion of tonality previous to him - a notion that older books on the subject suggest, and theory books definitely do. Segovia's interpretations may belong to his time, but its a part of our instrument, arguably one of the more important aspects of it as well. Segovia captured the minds and hearts of music lovers for decades and continues to be the guitar's most recognizable voice. We have heard hundreds of others play the Segovia repertoire, but why is Segovia's presentation of this music what we always reference (in either a good or bad manner)? Surely on this fact alone, we are obliged to look at and consider his musical approach when offered to us. I will never advocate always using these fingerings, but they are a involved in a very successful part of the history of the instrument and show us invaluable revelations into the classical guitar's aural history.
How do we know fingerings are for phrasing and not for technical purposes? There is not a simple answer for this, and many fingerings have implications for both. For me, however, there is one style of fingering that seems to always have phrasing implications, and is summed up in the subtitle for this post. Swinging Singles!! This could be Single String or Single Finger, but the impractical use of a solitary technical point of view is usually an indicator. Fingerings of this type for phrasing embody two gestures.
1) A consistency of timbre (Left Hand and Right Hand technique)
2) A gesture which displays the physicality of a musical line (the rising and falling of line, the leaps up or down to wider intervals)
Right Hand Fingerings for Phrasing
A lot of time in the practice room, is spent trying to find consistency of tone and rhythm amongst all of our right hand fingerings. Therefore, in theory, there would probably not be to many right hand fingerings written in to an edition that would have phrasing applications. Once I accepted this, I found almost no fingerings which implied phrasing based upon the two tenets of "phrase fingerings" I stated above. For example, if an editor has stated that you must use i m alternation for a passage, there is no reason that a person very skilled in i a alternation shouldn't be able to produce the same effect.
So, I've now proven that all Right Hand Fingerings on an edition either facilitate learning or show the editor's technical bias (see last post).....EXCEPT.....
Have you ever seen videos of Julian Bream or other great artists play? One of the most effective techniques for timbral control is the use of a single right hand finger repeatedly for a single musical line. I have looked through a number of editions to give evidence of this to you, but unfortunately, I have nothing at my house at the moment that would serve this purpose. If I do find something, I will be sure to post it immediately. I've seen this most commonly employed in contrapuntal Bach works. Especially for a fugue exposition, it can be an excellent way of controlling the dynamics and tone of a line, for a line that merits this type of musical control. Philosophies on phrasing in the works of Bach differ wildly from player to player, and this is a topic I will bravely delve into in a later post, but experimenting with this single finger approach can aid a player in developing seperation between voices and phrasing independence.
The issue if Right Hand fingerings for phrasing is complicated. In my experience, most of these fingerings printed in a score do reveal a technical approach. While the editor may argue that the use of certain fingerings reveals an intended phrasing, it would be hard to argue that they don't reveal the technical bias of the editor in how they apply it to phrasing. Again, my advice is try them out, but allow your aesthetic to be the one that guides you if you feel a certain right hand approach would suit the musical effect you wish to bring out.
Left Hand Fingerings for Phrasing
In determining if a left hand fingering is designed to illustrate phrasing, I start from a technical standpoint. If I am looking at a printed score, and I suddenly say "Why the @#$%& would I do that when I could do this more comfortably?" then what I am confronted with is usually something that has phrasing implications. It is important to identify these fingerings in the score. I usually use a three step process to determine a L.H. "phrasing fingering"
1) Is this fingering characterized by a certain awkwardness? (Shifting or squeezing of the hand usually)
2) Is there a timbral consistency to this fingering? (usually characterized by shifting on a single string or set of strings)
3) Is the physicality of the line expressed? -(for example, if there is a wide intervallic leap, does the fingering make me exert an effort to execute this leap)
Question 1 usually implies a "phrasing fingering" if answered yes. BUT..while many awkward fingerings are "phrasing fingerings", not all phrasing fingerings are awkward. Questions 2 or 3 usually indicate an approach to phrasing or contour, and may or may not involve awkwardness.
As I mentioned above, one of the great resources for us as members of the classical guitar heritage and tradition, are the editions of Andres Segovia. While often lighter in Right Hand markings, there can usually be found an abundance of Left Hand markings that allow us an insight into the technical and musical approaches of the Maestro (One notable exception being Milhaud's Segoviana which bears no markings at all). Recently, a number of students of mine have been playing Ponce's Sonatina Meridional. Often times, they come in with a more convenient technical approach to gestures than the ones Segovia suggests. At this point, I take them through the Segovia fingerings in certain passages to illustrate these concepts of phrasing in the left hand. Incidentally, I also have a copy of Tilman Hoppstock's excellent urtext edition handy to point out note errors in the Segovia edition, as the use of a C-sharp in measure 29 of the first movement instead of the proper C-natural as Maestro Kassner corrected for me has always grated my ears. But I digress...some examples....
As anyone who has learned the Segovia scales knows (and everyone should have learned them at one point), Segovia placed a great deal of importance on Left-Hand Shifting, and obviously emphasized this in his practice of technique. Other scale systems, such as Carlevaro or Shearer, use less of the horizontal shifting approach than Segovia did, and we can infer that his fingerings in these scales show his wish for students to practice this approach.
A moderate example from the first movement:
"But why, Dr. Steve? I'm an individual, I'm special, my girlfriend finds my musical sensibilities impeccable, etc...." I hear this a lot from students (or some variant thereof).
My answer usually boils down to tradition. When I was in my early twenties, it was very much in vogue for students to eschew fingerings, especially those of Segovia's. We viewed them as old-fashioned, belonging to a style that was past and perhaps a bit too much "heart on the sleeve." Perhaps I studied too much post-modern theory in college, but in recent years, I no longer buy into the view that music history is a progress narrative - a timeline in which Beethoven improved upon the style Mozart, Berlioz improved the language and instrumentation of Beethoven, and Wagner improved upon the notion of tonality previous to him - a notion that older books on the subject suggest, and theory books definitely do. Segovia's interpretations may belong to his time, but its a part of our instrument, arguably one of the more important aspects of it as well. Segovia captured the minds and hearts of music lovers for decades and continues to be the guitar's most recognizable voice. We have heard hundreds of others play the Segovia repertoire, but why is Segovia's presentation of this music what we always reference (in either a good or bad manner)? Surely on this fact alone, we are obliged to look at and consider his musical approach when offered to us. I will never advocate always using these fingerings, but they are a involved in a very successful part of the history of the instrument and show us invaluable revelations into the classical guitar's aural history.
How do we know fingerings are for phrasing and not for technical purposes? There is not a simple answer for this, and many fingerings have implications for both. For me, however, there is one style of fingering that seems to always have phrasing implications, and is summed up in the subtitle for this post. Swinging Singles!! This could be Single String or Single Finger, but the impractical use of a solitary technical point of view is usually an indicator. Fingerings of this type for phrasing embody two gestures.
1) A consistency of timbre (Left Hand and Right Hand technique)
2) A gesture which displays the physicality of a musical line (the rising and falling of line, the leaps up or down to wider intervals)
Right Hand Fingerings for Phrasing
A lot of time in the practice room, is spent trying to find consistency of tone and rhythm amongst all of our right hand fingerings. Therefore, in theory, there would probably not be to many right hand fingerings written in to an edition that would have phrasing applications. Once I accepted this, I found almost no fingerings which implied phrasing based upon the two tenets of "phrase fingerings" I stated above. For example, if an editor has stated that you must use i m alternation for a passage, there is no reason that a person very skilled in i a alternation shouldn't be able to produce the same effect.
So, I've now proven that all Right Hand Fingerings on an edition either facilitate learning or show the editor's technical bias (see last post).....EXCEPT.....
Have you ever seen videos of Julian Bream or other great artists play? One of the most effective techniques for timbral control is the use of a single right hand finger repeatedly for a single musical line. I have looked through a number of editions to give evidence of this to you, but unfortunately, I have nothing at my house at the moment that would serve this purpose. If I do find something, I will be sure to post it immediately. I've seen this most commonly employed in contrapuntal Bach works. Especially for a fugue exposition, it can be an excellent way of controlling the dynamics and tone of a line, for a line that merits this type of musical control. Philosophies on phrasing in the works of Bach differ wildly from player to player, and this is a topic I will bravely delve into in a later post, but experimenting with this single finger approach can aid a player in developing seperation between voices and phrasing independence.
The issue if Right Hand fingerings for phrasing is complicated. In my experience, most of these fingerings printed in a score do reveal a technical approach. While the editor may argue that the use of certain fingerings reveals an intended phrasing, it would be hard to argue that they don't reveal the technical bias of the editor in how they apply it to phrasing. Again, my advice is try them out, but allow your aesthetic to be the one that guides you if you feel a certain right hand approach would suit the musical effect you wish to bring out.
Left Hand Fingerings for Phrasing
In determining if a left hand fingering is designed to illustrate phrasing, I start from a technical standpoint. If I am looking at a printed score, and I suddenly say "Why the @#$%& would I do that when I could do this more comfortably?" then what I am confronted with is usually something that has phrasing implications. It is important to identify these fingerings in the score. I usually use a three step process to determine a L.H. "phrasing fingering"
1) Is this fingering characterized by a certain awkwardness? (Shifting or squeezing of the hand usually)
2) Is there a timbral consistency to this fingering? (usually characterized by shifting on a single string or set of strings)
3) Is the physicality of the line expressed? -(for example, if there is a wide intervallic leap, does the fingering make me exert an effort to execute this leap)
Question 1 usually implies a "phrasing fingering" if answered yes. BUT..while many awkward fingerings are "phrasing fingerings", not all phrasing fingerings are awkward. Questions 2 or 3 usually indicate an approach to phrasing or contour, and may or may not involve awkwardness.
As I mentioned above, one of the great resources for us as members of the classical guitar heritage and tradition, are the editions of Andres Segovia. While often lighter in Right Hand markings, there can usually be found an abundance of Left Hand markings that allow us an insight into the technical and musical approaches of the Maestro (One notable exception being Milhaud's Segoviana which bears no markings at all). Recently, a number of students of mine have been playing Ponce's Sonatina Meridional. Often times, they come in with a more convenient technical approach to gestures than the ones Segovia suggests. At this point, I take them through the Segovia fingerings in certain passages to illustrate these concepts of phrasing in the left hand. Incidentally, I also have a copy of Tilman Hoppstock's excellent urtext edition handy to point out note errors in the Segovia edition, as the use of a C-sharp in measure 29 of the first movement instead of the proper C-natural as Maestro Kassner corrected for me has always grated my ears. But I digress...some examples....
As anyone who has learned the Segovia scales knows (and everyone should have learned them at one point), Segovia placed a great deal of importance on Left-Hand Shifting, and obviously emphasized this in his practice of technique. Other scale systems, such as Carlevaro or Shearer, use less of the horizontal shifting approach than Segovia did, and we can infer that his fingerings in these scales show his wish for students to practice this approach.
A moderate example from the first movement:
The most obvious feature of this passage is the shift on the first string. A lot of modern guitarists use an open string for the first E to allow time for the shift to fifth position (which is not a bad idea, by the way). Segovia chose to shift along the second string. Why? Did he hate the sound of his open E-string. Well...no...he uses it in the next bar, albeit in a more harmonic way, but it also helps technically for the shift down to second position which follows. So now id do my check:
1) Slightly awkward (shift of three frets quickly)
2)There will be timbral consistency for the opening of the scale passage (first 5 notes on 1 string)
3) No leap intervallically, but shifting in itself is a physical gesture which shows an ascent.
Assessment: While it does show technical preferences of Segovia, there are clear phrasing implications.
A more extreme example for the second movement:
There are obviously more convenient ways to approach this technically. One solution would be to go to Third position on beat 3 and play the A on the first string, then simply stay in third position. Segovia, however, opted for a heroic leap up the neck with a (partial) portamento as an added effect. Romantic early twentieth century performance practice at its most apparent. Lets put it through the criteria check:
1) Indeed awkward! (Shift of six frets)
2) Melody stays on the second string for most of the measure. Timbral consistency.
3) The act of shifting so far up the neck displays a physical manifestation of the leap of a major sixth.
Assesment: Definitely a fingering that expresses an approach to the performers approach to the musical affect.
An extreme example from the third movement:
This is always the excerpt that opens up the discussion about Segovia phrasing and technique with my students. This "squirel-ly" little fingering is tough to pull off at a fast tempo and demands enormous control of both hands to execute well. Now to the test:
1) Very awkward (shifts up and down in very quick succession, including a quick one on the 4th finger followed by a triplet slur. There are at least three more convenient fingerings I can see without putting too much effort into thinking about it)
2) Timbral consistency. Its all on the third string
3) Displays physicality in that this quick little figure can appear virtuosic if executed in this fingering
Assessment: Phrasing implication explicitly! Again, there are many ways to play this in a technically simpler manner, but the aural effect of playing it in Segovia's manner is unique and uniquely expressive.
So...do we use them. As stated earlier, the tradition in art music is important, as is our more immediate history of performance on the guitar. I would no longer eschew this fingering outright. We can learn a lot about not only Segovia, but the musical environment he was operating withing by learning his fingerings in these phrasing situations. As a performer, I am more inclined to use a Segovia (or any other performer's) fingerings if they express a musical point of view. The technical fingerings are still very subjective to me. The phrasing fingerings, while still being subjective, do help us learn our art (as opposed to craft) in a very meaningful way that allows our reverence for the tradition. That's not to say that one should always use them. After living with a piece, you must decide whether these appraoched are consistent with your style, or your communication with the piece. To summarize, I would learn them, but keep in mind WHY you have learned them, and make your decisions as your relationship to the music develops.
Fingerings on Printed Editions: Summary
I've discussed a lot of concepts in the past two posts, so I'll proved a brief summary about my thoughts on this subject.
Right Hand Fingering
-usually displays the technical bias of the editor. Rarely (if ever) is the only way to execute the passage. In pedagogical works, try and understand the technical reasons for the fingering, and assimilate those technical efforts into your playing. In concert works, acknowledge the technical standpoint of the editor but always strive to use only what will allow you the fluency to execute. If an editor's fingering doesn't work and you have a more comfortable solution, use yours. Rarely will this decision affect the musical outcome of your performance.
-there are not to many instances of R.H. fingering that influence the music from purely a phrasing standpoint. Look for unnatural uses of repeated single fingers - they provide you with an interesting option.
Left Hand Fingering
Remember the two categories of left hand fingering that facilitate the technical learning of the piece
1) The Absolute Positively Only Way to Do Something (probably...) - these will help speed up the learning process and don't involve the editor's technical bias
2) Fingerings that will help you learn the piece - Subjective, reveals some of the editors approach to technique.Try it out first, but feel free to search out alternatives based upon personal technical and musical concerns
To determine if a fingering has phrasing implications, look for a certain amount of unnecessary awkwardness as a clue to its existence and then ask yourself these 3 questions:
1) Is this fingering characterized by a certain awkwardness? (Well ask it again..you may as well)
2) Is there a timbral consistency to this fingering?
3) Is the physicality of the line expressed?
If at least two of these are answered "yes" you may be looking at something that a considerable artist has concerned important for your attention, and we should honour that artist by attempting to understand it.
Keep practicing!!
S
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Gently Rocking (Hero worship and an objective view of fingerings)- Part 1
This is Part 1 of a two-part discussion of printed fingerings
Do you remember a specific image in your history that made you want to play guitar, and later you would return to when you needed inspiration? Here's mine.
Yes, I was, and continue to be a Julian Bream fanatic, and this was the album (LP for us old folks) that made me fall in love with the classical guitar. As an eight year old boy, sitting on my parent's orange/yellow shag rug, the sun would shine brightly through our living room window, and, as it was Canada, the sun would set low enough in the sky to beam directly through with such intensity that the dust particles in the air could always be seen. From the poetry and enormous sound of "Dedicatoria" to the miraculous performance of "Valses Poeticos" (which, to my ears has never been equalled by guitarist or pianist), I would listen in awe and stare at this distinguished man who had the coolest looking fretboard I had ever seen. This album continues to be my favourite, the starting point for any rejuvenation of musical spirit that I may need, and the visual of the cover will always stay with me.
I have a mental picture that I refer to also. No photo exists, but its burned in my memory. Andres Segovia, without a guitar. (Try finding a picture on-line of Segovia without a guitar...slim-pickings)
Toronto, Massey Hall, 1984 (I think): A pre-teen Dr. Steve and his twin brother are brought to an Andres Segovia concert at one of North America's great concert halls. We had first row seats. My parents told us that we had to be very quiet, cause if we coughed, the Maestro would stop and stare at us, so...yeah...we were too terrified to breathe, which is probably why I remember very little of the concert, except that the Maestro was a giant, and his guitar produced enormous sounds. And I remember I was amazed.
After the concert, as we were about to leave, the great guitar teacher, Eli Kassner, come up to my parents and told us we could go backstage to meet Segovia. Maestro Kassner had an eye on my brother and I and was about to accept us into his class. So,Dad, Eli, my brother and I found the greeting area. We went to the door and the steward called "Only two more". Eli and my father shoved us into the room and watched us approach the great man. We were scared of sitting in the hall to watch him play, now we were face to face with the legend, and probably about to cry from fear that we would cough or he would hate our long hair. We got in front of the Maestro, who was sitting behind a table to sign autographs. He signed our programs (which I still have in my parent's house...Mom, Dad, if you are reading this, please mail it to me). He then looked down at these two ragamuffins who hated to trim their curly locks. I then heard my Dad yell "Shake his hand!!!" I don't think we ever had the chance to shake someone's hand before. We'd seen it done, but this is what adults do. So, Segovia was looking at us curiously, and we felt the pressure to become adults and artists and real members of society. So the two very left-handed children extended our left hand to Segovia (to be fair, we had no idea that you were supposed to use our right hands...except for our father then yelling "Come on, guys...your right hand....sheesh!!") At the same time, the Maestro extended his right hand and they collided. Uh-oh...we thought, he must think us rude little gutter-rats...never having to exchange social pleasantries. But..in a moment that is burned in my head forever, he looked at us quizzically, chuckled to himself, patted us on the head, and extended his left hand to deliver what were probably the only two left-handed handshakes he ever produced. I was really fortunate to have this moment, and I treasured my special rapport (well...romanticized rapport) with Segovia the rest of my life. Eli Kassner often would joke for years afterwards the we had been touched by God, unfortunately with the wrong hand.
With these two powerful images burned in my conscience, it is always in my mind that I have the influence of these artists always with me. I talked in the last post about influences from recording and how that affects interpretation. The other influence I struggle with is when I pick up a score that has been edited by Segovia or Bream, my heroes, and they have told me how to finger the piece. If I change their markings, were my heroes wrong, or am I too obtuse and unskilled to get it?
Well, neither. After consideration over the years, I have come to an objective way of rationalizing fingerings that come with an edited edition, and I'd like to share some of these with you. I most recently encountered this crisis while preparing the "Gently Rocking" movement for Britten's "Nocturnal", which, of course, is edited and fingered by Bream. I then expanded my thoughts on fingering using other examples from the "Nocturnal" and other repertoire I have been working on with my students.
An Objective View on Published Fingerings
Students often think that the fingerings they see before them on the music are akin to law. One must remember that the MUSIC is the governing principle of...well...music, and making good music is the law. Please note that my comments here refer to people who are working on concert repertoire. Pieces assigned for pedagogical purposes by a teacher often have reasons behind the fingerings. If one looks at a method book, or a pedagogical repertoire series, an editor often puts fingerings to encourage his/her pedagogical standpoint on technique and perhaps phrasing. What I will be discussing is my approach to performance material, keeping in mind that the goal of performing is communication of the music and the underlying elements contained within. I have grouped my approach in two major categories, each with subsections for left hand and the right hand. Please bear in mind that this is not a methodical checklist, and often times, one will find instances of examples which can fit into more than one category.
Fingerings That Facilitate the Learning of Music (Technical Learning)
The title is self explanatory. The majority of fingerings I come across serve as a way to help people learn the music. I always remind my students that the danger in this is learning the fingerings, but not the notes. In facilitating the learning of the music, a lot of time can be saved finding the notes. I have found, however, that this benefit only lasts for the first 4 or 5 days with a passage in front of me. After this, I tend to have assimilated the information.
The Left Hand
Two categories:
1) The Absolute Positively Only Way to Do Something (probably...)
2) Fingerings that will help you learn the piece
1) The Absolute Positively Only Way to Do Something (probably...)
There are not a lot of instances of this, but it usually happens with big, thick chords. The fingerings provided will help the student cut down the time it takes to decipher these chords technically, and are therefore very useful. This example is from the Passacaglia from Britten's "Nocturnal" (I wrote it in one staff for convenience)
Do you remember a specific image in your history that made you want to play guitar, and later you would return to when you needed inspiration? Here's mine.
I have a mental picture that I refer to also. No photo exists, but its burned in my memory. Andres Segovia, without a guitar. (Try finding a picture on-line of Segovia without a guitar...slim-pickings)
Toronto, Massey Hall, 1984 (I think): A pre-teen Dr. Steve and his twin brother are brought to an Andres Segovia concert at one of North America's great concert halls. We had first row seats. My parents told us that we had to be very quiet, cause if we coughed, the Maestro would stop and stare at us, so...yeah...we were too terrified to breathe, which is probably why I remember very little of the concert, except that the Maestro was a giant, and his guitar produced enormous sounds. And I remember I was amazed.
After the concert, as we were about to leave, the great guitar teacher, Eli Kassner, come up to my parents and told us we could go backstage to meet Segovia. Maestro Kassner had an eye on my brother and I and was about to accept us into his class. So,Dad, Eli, my brother and I found the greeting area. We went to the door and the steward called "Only two more". Eli and my father shoved us into the room and watched us approach the great man. We were scared of sitting in the hall to watch him play, now we were face to face with the legend, and probably about to cry from fear that we would cough or he would hate our long hair. We got in front of the Maestro, who was sitting behind a table to sign autographs. He signed our programs (which I still have in my parent's house...Mom, Dad, if you are reading this, please mail it to me). He then looked down at these two ragamuffins who hated to trim their curly locks. I then heard my Dad yell "Shake his hand!!!" I don't think we ever had the chance to shake someone's hand before. We'd seen it done, but this is what adults do. So, Segovia was looking at us curiously, and we felt the pressure to become adults and artists and real members of society. So the two very left-handed children extended our left hand to Segovia (to be fair, we had no idea that you were supposed to use our right hands...except for our father then yelling "Come on, guys...your right hand....sheesh!!") At the same time, the Maestro extended his right hand and they collided. Uh-oh...we thought, he must think us rude little gutter-rats...never having to exchange social pleasantries. But..in a moment that is burned in my head forever, he looked at us quizzically, chuckled to himself, patted us on the head, and extended his left hand to deliver what were probably the only two left-handed handshakes he ever produced. I was really fortunate to have this moment, and I treasured my special rapport (well...romanticized rapport) with Segovia the rest of my life. Eli Kassner often would joke for years afterwards the we had been touched by God, unfortunately with the wrong hand.
With these two powerful images burned in my conscience, it is always in my mind that I have the influence of these artists always with me. I talked in the last post about influences from recording and how that affects interpretation. The other influence I struggle with is when I pick up a score that has been edited by Segovia or Bream, my heroes, and they have told me how to finger the piece. If I change their markings, were my heroes wrong, or am I too obtuse and unskilled to get it?
Well, neither. After consideration over the years, I have come to an objective way of rationalizing fingerings that come with an edited edition, and I'd like to share some of these with you. I most recently encountered this crisis while preparing the "Gently Rocking" movement for Britten's "Nocturnal", which, of course, is edited and fingered by Bream. I then expanded my thoughts on fingering using other examples from the "Nocturnal" and other repertoire I have been working on with my students.
An Objective View on Published Fingerings
Students often think that the fingerings they see before them on the music are akin to law. One must remember that the MUSIC is the governing principle of...well...music, and making good music is the law. Please note that my comments here refer to people who are working on concert repertoire. Pieces assigned for pedagogical purposes by a teacher often have reasons behind the fingerings. If one looks at a method book, or a pedagogical repertoire series, an editor often puts fingerings to encourage his/her pedagogical standpoint on technique and perhaps phrasing. What I will be discussing is my approach to performance material, keeping in mind that the goal of performing is communication of the music and the underlying elements contained within. I have grouped my approach in two major categories, each with subsections for left hand and the right hand. Please bear in mind that this is not a methodical checklist, and often times, one will find instances of examples which can fit into more than one category.
Fingerings That Facilitate the Learning of Music (Technical Learning)
The title is self explanatory. The majority of fingerings I come across serve as a way to help people learn the music. I always remind my students that the danger in this is learning the fingerings, but not the notes. In facilitating the learning of the music, a lot of time can be saved finding the notes. I have found, however, that this benefit only lasts for the first 4 or 5 days with a passage in front of me. After this, I tend to have assimilated the information.
The Left Hand
Two categories:
1) The Absolute Positively Only Way to Do Something (probably...)
2) Fingerings that will help you learn the piece
1) The Absolute Positively Only Way to Do Something (probably...)
There are not a lot of instances of this, but it usually happens with big, thick chords. The fingerings provided will help the student cut down the time it takes to decipher these chords technically, and are therefore very useful. This example is from the Passacaglia from Britten's "Nocturnal" (I wrote it in one staff for convenience)
The first chord and the last chord fall under the category of absolutely the only way to do it. These fingerings, for better or worse, are the only way around the situation, but we have to be thankful to the editor (Mr. Bream) for saving us that bit of time in deciphering these chords. The other chords in between have other possible solutions (but these are good ones, the "best" in my opinion) but the first and the last have been made a bit easier for us.
Assessment: Objective fingering. Use of the fingering does not reveal another's influence or interpretation.
2) Fingerings that help you learn the piece
These types of Left Hand fingerings are perhaps the most common. Most of the time, they offer the most technically expedient way of executing a passage. We should not make the mistake that this is the only way to do it (despite the fact that Bream or Segovia did it this way), and they are worth learning and absorbing. Alternate solutions should be found if the provided fingering is too awkward for your personal technique or your interpretation doesn't work with it. An example of this can be found in the Restless movement of the "Nocturnal"
This solution, while not the only possible one, is very logical, and suits the phrasing well (more on this in the next posting!) When I look at a passage like this, I learn it initially and will change it only if there is a compelling alternate to attempt, either musically or technically. For example, one might try to perform the top line on two separate strings, which may be a good way to bring out the musical slurring. This decision is left to the decision of the performer, and as artists, we should not be beholden to a fingering that appears to be a learning aid, but may have phrasing implications.
Assessment: Subjective, reveals some of the editors approach to technique. Try it out first, but feel free to search out alternatives based upon personal technical and musical concerns.
The Right Hand
Very rarely, if ever, have I encountered The Absolute Positively Only Way to Do Something (probably...) in the right hand. In fact, I have found that most right hand fingerings tell more about the editors technical preferences for the right hand than a search for the easiest solution. One thing I've learned over years of teaching and observing, is that there is (almost) as many ways to acheive something with the right hand as there are players. Some people have strict "systems" (a-finger string crossing, only i-m alternation, etc) but most utilize a hybrid of these systems. The goal of your right hand fingering should be one that facilitates the passage AND gives it the right musical effect, and NOT just because Bream, Segovia, etc. did it. I always check out the fingerings, but I tend to not give them as much weight as the left hand ones. Here's the example from Gently Rocking which encouraged me to formulate these thoughts:
To display to you my technical bias, I'll let you know why I had a problem with this. I tried it, but found it difficult. There were thoughts that I was inadequate and that I could never play this piece effectively, because this right hand fingering, which my idol Julian gave to me, could not work for me.
After beating myself up for a while, I paused to figure why I couldn't do it, and here it is: at the execution of 3rd and 4th beats in the lower staff, the alternation from the previous note entailed a switch from m to a-i. Many methods will tell you that the m to a-i alternation is a hard one, and it always has been not as comfortable to me. Then I asked myself, could Bream's solution be musically integral to the piece. The answer is no. The figure is a tremolando G with an E minor arpeggio ringing around it....that's it...that's what the music is. The fingering displays more about Julian Bream's technical approach than the music (and what I learned in many of his fingerings is that he is VERY good at alternating a-i with m, and, for that, I once again bow to the master....). I then set about a way to bring about the same musical effect, but with a new fingering, now emboldened by my independence. I came up with two solutions.
and then:
I still haven't determined which I will use, each has its merits for MY technique, but the important thing is that instead of banging my head against the wall to develop a technique I wasn't exceptionally fluent with, I can move ahead with the piece with fingerings that have the same musical effect. (I also learned that I have to practice my a-i and m alternations more in the techinque portion of my practice!!!)
Assessment:Almost entirely subjective to the editor's right hand technical preferences. Approach cautiously with an eye on your strengths.
Post script to Part 1
I always say to my students who are preparing for performances, "Don't be a hero!!" By this I mean, do not dogmatically follow a technical point of view that is simply not working for you if you possess an alternative that sounds equally well in your interpretation. Never think you SHOULD do something technically awkward if you can avoid it. The final product is a moment in time which has to be aesthetically pleasing and musically substantive. I have yet for someone to come up to me after a performance and say "In bar 16, you played those 3 notes m, i, p and not a, m, i...therefore you ruined the night for me and I may stop eating due to how distraught I am". If what you do has the right musical effect, no one will ever catch it or call you on it. My promise to you....
In Part 2, I will discuss the second types of fingerings, those having to do with phrasing, and will put forth a summary of these articles. Keep practicing and stay tuned.....
ST
Monday, January 17, 2011
Under the Influence (and How to Rotate Out of It)
One of the greatest tools students have gained in the last hundred years or so is recorded music. If we can agree that one aspect of music is that it is a language, and how we phrase the music is our method of communicating that language in our own personal way. I learned how to phrase from hours, days and years of listening to, primarily, recorded music, but also live concerts. This is similar to how babies assimilate their vocabulary, syntax, accent, and grammar in speech, and for musicians it is just as important. As a professor, I am often asked "How do I phrase?" (NB..the easier question to answer is "How should I phrase this?"...that I always have some ideas for) But there is no quick answer to "How do I phrase?" Usually, I liken music to language, and point them to recordings (solo violin showpieces can very effectively demonstrate simple phrasing principles, incidentally) and ask them to only focus on the phrases and how they breathe and live when listening. I don't believe there is a fast way to teach phrasing. I've read some books which break it down in a pseudo-scientific way, but the personal communication aspect of phrasing is inherently gone when a phrasing "method" is employed. I will to admit to some basic ground rules, but the universal theory of phrasing has not entered into my world..yet.
As a result of all this listening I do, I certainly have become aware that sometimes my perception of a phrase when practicing may not necessarily be my own. Often times I have caught myself emulating a style or exact approach to a line. While there is nothing wrong with this per se (especially if the style that you are emulating is particularly great) it can lead to problems when you formulate your own ideas about a piece you are working on, and the phrasing that is influencing you may not suit the needs of your interpretation.
I encountered this while working from the manuscript for Ponce's Sonata Romantica. It is impossible for me to not have Segovia's recording, and a hundred others, rattling around in my head. Again, this is not necessarily bad, but having a clean slate to look at a piece with can be a useful way of learning our own voice on the instrument. The development of the 1st movement provided a challenge to my influences harmonically (due to drastic note differences), and in phrasing (as a result of note differences) and the coda posed questions about how I assumed the movement should finish dynamically, and how a semi-tone alteration changed my perception.
The first case:
Manuscript Source: 1st movement (m.77)
Equivalent measure: Segovia Edition
For me, the measures associated with these examples caused me the most trouble in reconciling my perception of the work through years of knowing it with the manuscript material. The version in the Segovia edition maintains a uniformity of harmony by outlining a diminished chord even in the single note articulations. The manuscript poses a diminished sonority followed by material which doesn't continue it. I struggled to make it sound acceptable to my ear, but I could now theorize why it was eventually changed as the manuscript version simply sounds odd, or at least, less harmonious.
I could find no harmonic or motivic evidence in the rest of the movement to make a case for one or the other. Dead end. After consideration, I have developed a hypotheses. Remembering that the manuscript version was performed on piano for Segovia when the two met to discuss the piece, I decided to crack my knuckles and fumble through the measures on a piano. At first it sounded similar to a guitar rendering, and then I noticed the dynamics - the sforzando on the chord in the manuscript. After several tries, I managed to make a sforzando, but something still wasn't right. Looking at the Segovia edition, I noticed the piano symbol after the initial chord. Assuming that this is what was missing from the manuscript, I tried it out. For me...mystery solved. On a piano, the sforzando creates a percussive effect and followed by a soft sotto voce ositinato, the figure sounded proper. When performed in this way, the differences between the two were clear, and both were satisfying. The manuscript version on a piano provided interesting contrasts in texture. There were two layers to the figure: the violent percussive effect, followed by a murmuring.
I have not been exactly able to recreate this effect on a guitar. I still am looking for the right sounds, but the dynamic range of the guitar may not allow me to simulate what I heard. If I can't ultimately solve this issue, I probably will use the version from the Segovia edition. What works on piano as a gesture doesn't always work on a guitar as a gesture.
The second case.
Manuscript. 1st movement (mm. 86-88)
Equivalent measures: Segovia edition
Initially, I just couldn't make sense of the manuscript version. It sounded weird to my ears (again, maybe due to my perception of the piece through recordings and teaching) and provided an unsatisfying resolution to the A-flat chord. I enjoyed the manuscript material throughout this section (lots of different notes..check it out) but the lead up to the cadence just didn't sound right. My first instinct was to make a "Frankenstein" version containing what I liked about both:
Thinking myself a gifted arranger, I went on. I had gotten rid of the offending C natural in the bass and kept that great inner voice going. What was Ponce thinking initially!! Silly man! (This is the conversation I have with myself while I take a practice break)...
BUT...when I sat back down, I realized that I was not the creator of this piece, and it must work..the problem is me. I isolated the bass in the manuscript version, and it sounded good. Then I isolated the top part..it sounded good as well. Why not together?
One of the techniques for practice I learned from the great Hubert Kappel is called "rotating focus". I'll discuss this fully in a future blog, but the basis of it is the you have to shift your cognitive perception from one aspect of your playing to another on individual passes through a section of music. I usually use this in a technical manner, but it helps in interpretive issues as well. We all have played a contrapuntal Bach work and focused on the bass, or the top line..but it is not what we immediately think of in a lot of Segovia repertoire. This seems like a very basic technique I'm outlining, but done properly, the results are fascinating. So after another pass at the manuscript version, I balanced the voices evenly, but my mind's eye was on the bass. Perfect...sounded fantastic. It then is a simple matter to balance the voices so the bass bears the focus and the chords "fill time" and enrich the harmony. (Note to students...you can easily achieve this balance by arching the wrist upwards slightly. This serves to weaken the finger stroke while allowing more nail on the thumbstroke. Not the only way to do it...just one of many)
What went wrong initially was where I had perceived the motion in the phrase. After years of hearing the Segovia edition, I had heard the important motion lying in that inner voice, while the bass reinforces the harmony:
In the manuscript version, the motion is created by the bass, with the upper voice providing static harmonic support, as evidenced by its maintaining of a harmonic rhythm without voice leading within that rhythm:
I would encourage everyone to approach all pieces (in which it is possible) with an eye on the types of motion that occur within it. The kineticism (by this I mean both pertaining to kinetics..and as pertaining to kinetic art) is what can help our interpretation, and thereby help us communicate this journey to a listener.
The third case.
Manuscript version. 1st movement. (mm. 149-150)
Equivalent measures in Segovia edition.
I just love a good augmented chord. From the first time I heard Rachmaninov to the Faust Symphony by Liszt that I'm listening to as I'm writing this, I realized that a well placed augmented chord can change a phrase. So I was delighted to find one in the manuscript version where I would never have thought one would exist. In the Segovia edition, the C-sharp chord provides a very solid and rhythmic touch to the final bars. The dynamics reflect this solidity. In the manuscript, however, a single note C sharp rings through while the augmented chord (the g-sharp in the chord is now an A), with all its colour and mystery, merges into it. Ponce doesn't even really need to write the diminuendo afterwards (but he does). The ending that this provides to me is one that is more intimate, almost insecure, and prepares my thoughts for the quiet dignity of the second movement. The ending was good before. This one semi-tone difference just made it great for me!!
So, in practice, try to challenge your perceptions of a piece. Make sure you are not solely relying on what you've heard before. Explore the phrases and sections, alter your voicings, try new fingerings, and maybe you'll be able to communicate your voice through the music. I once heard the great performer and teacher, David Tanenbaum, refer to this time of his practicing as his favourite: the time in which you can discover your interpretation. This "discovery time" should make up an important part of your practice day and is essential in developing your intimacy with the music.
See you soon.
S
As a result of all this listening I do, I certainly have become aware that sometimes my perception of a phrase when practicing may not necessarily be my own. Often times I have caught myself emulating a style or exact approach to a line. While there is nothing wrong with this per se (especially if the style that you are emulating is particularly great) it can lead to problems when you formulate your own ideas about a piece you are working on, and the phrasing that is influencing you may not suit the needs of your interpretation.
I encountered this while working from the manuscript for Ponce's Sonata Romantica. It is impossible for me to not have Segovia's recording, and a hundred others, rattling around in my head. Again, this is not necessarily bad, but having a clean slate to look at a piece with can be a useful way of learning our own voice on the instrument. The development of the 1st movement provided a challenge to my influences harmonically (due to drastic note differences), and in phrasing (as a result of note differences) and the coda posed questions about how I assumed the movement should finish dynamically, and how a semi-tone alteration changed my perception.
The first case:
Manuscript Source: 1st movement (m.77)
Equivalent measure: Segovia Edition
For me, the measures associated with these examples caused me the most trouble in reconciling my perception of the work through years of knowing it with the manuscript material. The version in the Segovia edition maintains a uniformity of harmony by outlining a diminished chord even in the single note articulations. The manuscript poses a diminished sonority followed by material which doesn't continue it. I struggled to make it sound acceptable to my ear, but I could now theorize why it was eventually changed as the manuscript version simply sounds odd, or at least, less harmonious.
I could find no harmonic or motivic evidence in the rest of the movement to make a case for one or the other. Dead end. After consideration, I have developed a hypotheses. Remembering that the manuscript version was performed on piano for Segovia when the two met to discuss the piece, I decided to crack my knuckles and fumble through the measures on a piano. At first it sounded similar to a guitar rendering, and then I noticed the dynamics - the sforzando on the chord in the manuscript. After several tries, I managed to make a sforzando, but something still wasn't right. Looking at the Segovia edition, I noticed the piano symbol after the initial chord. Assuming that this is what was missing from the manuscript, I tried it out. For me...mystery solved. On a piano, the sforzando creates a percussive effect and followed by a soft sotto voce ositinato, the figure sounded proper. When performed in this way, the differences between the two were clear, and both were satisfying. The manuscript version on a piano provided interesting contrasts in texture. There were two layers to the figure: the violent percussive effect, followed by a murmuring.
I have not been exactly able to recreate this effect on a guitar. I still am looking for the right sounds, but the dynamic range of the guitar may not allow me to simulate what I heard. If I can't ultimately solve this issue, I probably will use the version from the Segovia edition. What works on piano as a gesture doesn't always work on a guitar as a gesture.
The second case.
Manuscript. 1st movement (mm. 86-88)
Equivalent measures: Segovia edition
Initially, I just couldn't make sense of the manuscript version. It sounded weird to my ears (again, maybe due to my perception of the piece through recordings and teaching) and provided an unsatisfying resolution to the A-flat chord. I enjoyed the manuscript material throughout this section (lots of different notes..check it out) but the lead up to the cadence just didn't sound right. My first instinct was to make a "Frankenstein" version containing what I liked about both:
Thinking myself a gifted arranger, I went on. I had gotten rid of the offending C natural in the bass and kept that great inner voice going. What was Ponce thinking initially!! Silly man! (This is the conversation I have with myself while I take a practice break)...
BUT...when I sat back down, I realized that I was not the creator of this piece, and it must work..the problem is me. I isolated the bass in the manuscript version, and it sounded good. Then I isolated the top part..it sounded good as well. Why not together?
One of the techniques for practice I learned from the great Hubert Kappel is called "rotating focus". I'll discuss this fully in a future blog, but the basis of it is the you have to shift your cognitive perception from one aspect of your playing to another on individual passes through a section of music. I usually use this in a technical manner, but it helps in interpretive issues as well. We all have played a contrapuntal Bach work and focused on the bass, or the top line..but it is not what we immediately think of in a lot of Segovia repertoire. This seems like a very basic technique I'm outlining, but done properly, the results are fascinating. So after another pass at the manuscript version, I balanced the voices evenly, but my mind's eye was on the bass. Perfect...sounded fantastic. It then is a simple matter to balance the voices so the bass bears the focus and the chords "fill time" and enrich the harmony. (Note to students...you can easily achieve this balance by arching the wrist upwards slightly. This serves to weaken the finger stroke while allowing more nail on the thumbstroke. Not the only way to do it...just one of many)
What went wrong initially was where I had perceived the motion in the phrase. After years of hearing the Segovia edition, I had heard the important motion lying in that inner voice, while the bass reinforces the harmony:
In the manuscript version, the motion is created by the bass, with the upper voice providing static harmonic support, as evidenced by its maintaining of a harmonic rhythm without voice leading within that rhythm:
I would encourage everyone to approach all pieces (in which it is possible) with an eye on the types of motion that occur within it. The kineticism (by this I mean both pertaining to kinetics..and as pertaining to kinetic art) is what can help our interpretation, and thereby help us communicate this journey to a listener.
The third case.
Manuscript version. 1st movement. (mm. 149-150)
Equivalent measures in Segovia edition.
I just love a good augmented chord. From the first time I heard Rachmaninov to the Faust Symphony by Liszt that I'm listening to as I'm writing this, I realized that a well placed augmented chord can change a phrase. So I was delighted to find one in the manuscript version where I would never have thought one would exist. In the Segovia edition, the C-sharp chord provides a very solid and rhythmic touch to the final bars. The dynamics reflect this solidity. In the manuscript, however, a single note C sharp rings through while the augmented chord (the g-sharp in the chord is now an A), with all its colour and mystery, merges into it. Ponce doesn't even really need to write the diminuendo afterwards (but he does). The ending that this provides to me is one that is more intimate, almost insecure, and prepares my thoughts for the quiet dignity of the second movement. The ending was good before. This one semi-tone difference just made it great for me!!
So, in practice, try to challenge your perceptions of a piece. Make sure you are not solely relying on what you've heard before. Explore the phrases and sections, alter your voicings, try new fingerings, and maybe you'll be able to communicate your voice through the music. I once heard the great performer and teacher, David Tanenbaum, refer to this time of his practicing as his favourite: the time in which you can discover your interpretation. This "discovery time" should make up an important part of your practice day and is essential in developing your intimacy with the music.
See you soon.
S
Friday, January 7, 2011
What an interesting development we have here!! (The Romantica Manuscripts)
Most of the time when musicians take a look at a manuscript source for the piece, we can expect to find some note discrepancies, dynamic and expression changes, some new measures maybe and different articulations. The manuscript version of Ponce's Sonata Romantica poses a far more difficult question. The first movement differs significantly from the Segovia published edition, especially with regards to the development section, which, aside from some measures being the same, sets a completely different tone in terms of musical material, harmonic tension and tonal centering. As a performer, this forces me to confront what is an unanswerable question - Do I perform the composer's original intentions, or what one can assume are the changes he wanted for the final edition?
My Grad Assistant, Bryan Fasola, and I confronted this question with the Antonio Jose Sonata. My version is the Gilardino, which contains a facsimile of the early manuscript. His version was the Iznaola, which contains the facsimile of the manuscript that was worked on for the first performance, with lots of supplementary markings, which can be assumed were added in sessions between performer and composer. We debated this for several weeks, and went back and forth, trying to find some clue as to which should be presented. What we found, as disappointing as this may sound, is that there was no clear answer. Most of the differences were minor (bass notes, accidentals), so ultimately Bryan decided to go with the performing version, as he liked the idea of the two forces (performer and composer) coming together for the performance, and there is enough evidence in the manuscripts to suggest that this was the case.
With Romantica, however, the differences are dramatic, and there is no intermediary step between manuscript and published version that would give any account of how Ponce and Segovia conceived of the changes. It is clear from the letters from Segovia to Ponce that Segovia was with Ponce in September 1928 when Ponce first played it for him (assumedly on piano) and it is possible they discussed changes then. This meeting also clears up why the 4th movement is not with the other 3 in the manuscript source. It wasn't written yet, and Segovia pesters Ponce for the movement over several letters after this. They do discuss changes in these letters, but they pertain to the 4th movement.
The changes that occur in the opening movement lack any documentation, so the performer is left wondering which version to play. At best, the published version represents the collaboration between composer and performer,..at worst, it is Segovia's changes without Ponce's involvement. To clarify "at worst"..if the changes constituted some octave displacement, articulation changes and thinning of textures ("dropping notes"...we all do it!!) then the discussion in my head would not be so contentious. The manuscript, however, presents an entirely different musical dialogue in the 1st movement development than the published edition. I even have searched for anecdotal evidence...you know the stories we've all heard.."My teacher says his friend saw the Villa-Lobos 6th Prelude before it was lost" or "Britten told Bream he preferred the the sixteenth note ossia in the 'Gently Rocking' movement of the Nocturnal" (Seriously though...if any one can steer me to evidence of this last point, I'd be greatly appreciative)
So...what do I decide? Do I perform the composer's original intentions, or what one can assume are the changes he wanted for the final edition? In the end, I've reconciled myself to the fact that this question is not answerable. What I have decided is that I quite like the manuscript version of the 1st movement. There is a harmonic richness and a pleasing arc to it. It has that piano-like texture that guitarists often encounter when working with a a non-guitarist composer.
Ultimately, the choice has to be based on music. Were the music unplayable and poor, then there wouldn't be a blog post about it. Students and professionals always have to make choices, and it is best to use all the tools available to us - research, intuition, and most importantly, our musical intelligence. This is in reference to all aspects of our practice, whether it is phrasing a line, sifting through manuscripts or writing our own pieces. The types of questions I asked myself with regards to this movement have become part of my story with the music and is an important part of the relationship I will have with it.
Next post, I'll talk about the certain musical challenges one faces when reinterprets a work which is already in our ear from recordings, concerts, and previous learning attempts. Do we reconcile, wipe the slate clean, or assimilate these influences? When interpreting a piece whose musical material remains the same in all versions, this can be difficult, but when doing this to a standard rep piece with new music it can really test your assumptions? Keep practicing.
ALSO...if you took a week or so off for the holidays..DON'T jump back in to a 5 hour practice regimen. Ease yourself into it by increments, like training for an 8 mile run. Don't assume you can do it if you haven't run in several months. Build up to it.
S
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