Posts Tagged ‘adult piano’

Accurate imitation a potent form of learning in piano technique

Thursday, November 12th, 2009

I recently asked a student to watch the Horowitz silent movie of Chopin’s Etude Op 10 #8 in F major

( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pbq-laOlYbc&feature=PlayList&p=E92A23B073119C01&index=18 )

and then imitate his movements. This was a very revealing exercise. Horowitz ‘cocks’ his fourth finger and then has it vigorously strike into the key as his hand goes over the thumb in the descending passages. His wrist stays virtually even. It looks like there’s an undulation of hand, wrist and arm but this actually only occurs as a passive result of the vigorous finger activity.

My student however took the visible undulation to be the main element, and left his fingers, especially the all-important fourth, virtually inert. This was of course this student’s classic habit, the one of which I have been trying to cure him for years. I was struck by the degree to which his habitual pianistic self-image overrode the perception of what Horowitz was actually doing, and rendered this potentially rich learning situation barren.

When I pointed out what he had done, and guided him to eventually really do what the film shows – THAT was real learning. What a change in his sound and his sense of capability!

AFF

Piano Technique Workshop: improve your thumb in Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata

Saturday, October 24th, 2009

Some of the simplest tasks are the most effective. The 3rd movement opening of Moonlight sonata, a student plays each 4-note 16th group with the standard “arm out to the side” movement to shape the group. But this pulls her thumb off the board so it’s not ready to play the first note of the next group. Then the arm movement she does make to play the next thumb note is so big that her thumb feels no need to work on its own, and becomes inert.

I kill two birds with one stone by having her play the first five notes very quickly and overhold the last two. try that now: play G#-C#-E-G#-C# and hold on to your fifth finger G# while standing firmly on your thumb C#. The two outside digits of your hand make pylons that stand your hand right up like a bridge. The movement was so quick that your arm had no time to do its normal garbage but went straight to the goal. It moved your thumb in towards the backboard instead of pulling it away. And the arrival on the thumb’s C# was so sudden that it galvanizes your thumb into potent activity. The thumb really moves to save itself from collapsing!

One more thing: I noticed my student moving her thumb mostly from the middle joint. When I told her the joint from which the thumb should move is at the wrist, this helped it immediately become effective in its action.

Voila, problem solved – I wish they were all that easy!

AFF

New Horowitz Steinway clips now on YouTube

Monday, October 19th, 2009

Awhile back I wrote about my experiences on the Horowitz Steinway – I am happy to announce that a couple of clips are now up and running on YouTube. For instance there’s

Mozart sonata K. 283, 2nd movement Andante

… or this one,

Chopin’s slow, elegiac A minor Mazurka

It was interesting to watch myself, to see to what extent I ‘do what I say,’ and to what extent I do something else. One of the main reasons I developed my approach was to solve my own set of bad habits – on the Horowitz Steinway you can see me instinctively reducing those habits to a minimum. I overmove a lot less than usual – I HAD to reduce it to gain the finest control over the instrument. But there are still some moves that, if reduced further, internalized more, would open up the finesse of my phrasing even more.

As a work in progress, these clips fascinate me… I hope that musically they will please you.

AFF

Knees and piano technique??

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Originally posted September 27th, 2007

That’s right… As you sit and read this, move one knee slightly forward. You may notice that it is impossible to do it without a slight movement of the pelvis as well. Lately as I have returned to some thorny passages that over the years have obstinately refused to become easy to play, I notice that although I have cultivated a non-collapsed hand for years, somehow somewhere in there, there still exists some insidious form of micro-collapse. I also notice that as this collapse is happening, I cannot rock my pelvis. I have fallen into Arnold Schultz’s idea of stabilizing the hip joints to provide a fulcrum to the levers higher up the body.

If I overtly rock my pelvis the movement tends to be too big – it disturbs rather than enlightens. But if I attend to the moveability of my knee, it helps my pelvis stay free and moveable without my overtly moving it. So as your hand comes into the keyboard, let your knee ease forward a tiny amount, literally a millimeter or two… Does your hand sense its innate structural potency any more clearly when you do this? Does it better understand how to stand freely, floatingly?

Not only link a slight movement of your knees to the movements of your hand, but also sense that when your finger starts using a non-aligned, effortful action to move the key, the level of tension rises in your thigh, all along the underside of your leg from your pelvis to your knee, and also very often perceptibly in your calf muscle and foot. Release the tension anywhere in your leg by returning to sense your sitz bones and your pelvis’s capacity to ease gently forward or back or left or right on those two points of stability, and simultaneously sensing how your hand could return to its empowered neutral, the point where it freely stands and has its greatest capacity to move in any direction.

Many will dismiss this kind of work as a useless distraction – “Think of MUSIC! LISTEN! All this attention to physical sensation is pouring from emptiness into the void,” they say. I can understand the mindset very well, but I also know that physical sensation is the great teacher for body organization – we are not just losing ourselves in a morass of sensation here, we are attending to specific sensations that educate a certain function, one that will empower our musicianship and ultimately allow us even to listen better!

Even if you want to, you may find that you simply cannot tune in to the kinds of fine sensations I describe. I have years of Feldenkrais lessons behind me where I developed a heightened sensitivity to my own kinesthetic self-image. People new to the game may well become skeptical just because the sensations I describe are imperceptible to them. I guess that’s a risk that comes with the territory…

AFF

Hips, neck, hands and heart… new insights into piano technique

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

I’ve finally restored all my old blog posts, sadly deleted many months ago when a distinctly unfriendly virus struck the blog. Since then, many new events in my own developing technique (What? My technique is still developing after a film and two books? Indeed so, it just keeps getting richer and richer…). Since last December my experiences on the Horowitz Steinway have slowly been integrating into a completely transformed sound, emotional expression and physical feel as I sit at the piano.

Hips: I am much more aware of tension within and around my hip joint. Keeping a clear sense of how my sitz bones press into the bench is the first step in catching the extra effort exerted through my upper leg, an effort always related to something not being right in my hand’s relation to the keyboard.

Sam Slutsky, my Tai Chi teacher in Montreal, keeps referring to “inversion” and I find this a useful term. It means that a bone that should be above its neighbour is below it; one that should be behind feels as though it is trying to be in front. Sensing “inversion” is a practical way of sensing when things aren’t right skeletally – the feeling of inversion is the result of bones being out of alignment.

Most of us stand with our pelvis too far forward on our hip joints. The thrust-back posterior of the African native is much closer to a functional skeletality than what you see in most modern, ‘civilized’ humans! Stand with your feet at a 45 degree angle, your weight on your back foot, and slowly begin to move your back hip even further back – feel what that does to the ball and socket joint where your femur joins your pelvis. There is a lot of room back there that we don’t use, but when we do avail ourselves of that “posterior space,” the pelvis socket can finally rest on the most ergonomically efficient part of the femur ball. If we don’t find that space, we constantly carry too much tension in those hip joints.

Hands: For pianists, a major and frequently seen inversion is right in the hand: the thumb not making an effort to stay under the second metacarpal. There is an actual effort needed here, of the thumb wanting to sweep itself under the hand (even if it can’t actually do it). This is corollary to the effort needed in the hip joint to stand on one leg – a considerable effort to say the least! We don’t realize just how much strength is needed to keep those bones well-aligned. This active effort of the thumb is diametrically opposed to the oft-seen, counterproductive effort to lift itself (a vain effort to help out the hand’s arch that I call pianistic co-dependence).

Stand on one leg, and then let the hip of your non-standing leg fall as far as possible towards the ground. It feels pretty awkward, right? Imagine trying to walk if you had to let your hip fall like that at every step. But many of us do just that pianistically – our thumb is chronically “above” our hand.

Now return your hip to its normal position. Do you feel how much strength is needed to keep it in place? Do you notice how good this feels compared to the collapsed hip? Resolving the thumb/hand inversion in your playing requires equivalent strength, and it should also give you similar pianistic satisfaction.

Neck: When my thumb does this inversion I instantly feel tension in my ‘neck cords.’  These are the scaleni muscles connecting the cervical spine to the shoulder girdle, and they are intimately involved with our hands. Tuning into scaleni tension is another way of alerting myself to pianistic inversion and doing something positive about it.

I become more able to reduce tension in my neck as well as in my hip, the more my hand’s  “hip joints” starts making a healthy effort to stand as it should…

All this leads to a more neutral overall relationship to the piano, which in turn gives me a much more dynamic relationship to the music. I have far greater dynamic range with far less effort. In fact, the reduction of effort is necessary to open up the dynamic range – and it will happen as long as I remain skeletal.

But this overall reduction in effort is facilitated by a vastly increased effort in certain key places. This is also a part of skeletality.

The other amazing thing is the increased intensity of emotional expression. An ‘empowered neutral’ body seems to be the ideal vehicle for deeply felt emotion, without the maudlin quality of so much ‘acted’ emotion we see and hear, that kind that just doesn’t satisfy…

more to come…

AFF

The Horowitz Steinway – the ultimate challenge in piano technique

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Originally posted December 15th, 2008

It just keeps getting better. Today we started at noon and finished when they closed the store up at 6. I played for four hours, then Misha played for an hour, and then when I had thought I was completely exhausted and couldn’t possibly do anything more, his playing inspired me, drew me back to the piano like a magnet, and then the most interesting part began.

I had watched his hands and listened to his sound closely, like a hawk. When I sat down again, I found myself drawn by some invisible impulse to play differently than before, to become even more liquidly skeletal and just melt into the piano to find an even juicier tone, a more stark difference in dynamic levels between melody and accompaniment. Let’s say I had been getting silvery sheen surrounding each note, but now, with a slightly fatter sense of the melodic finger in key (but not produced by anything like a heavier touch) that sheen started shifting in hue, becoming more golden. Imagine a painter painting in the style of Seurat with tiny dot brush strokes and then switching to a slightly fatter brush for wider daubs of colour, let’s say more like Van Gogh. The colour seems just as rich, perhaps richer, but there’s a slight loss of differentiation, of fine variegation.

Misha asked me, “What are you doing, the silver sheen of your sound went away.”

“But Misha, now I am doing what you did, look! It’s great!”

“Yes I see you are doing it more like me now, but the sound is worse.”

That surprised and puzzled me, but anyway I went back to a hand that stands up more rather than melting in to the keyboard, and my silveriness came back. It was another stunning demonstration that on this piano, less is more – less effort gives more riches of tone and expression. Then Misha sat and tried to imitate what I had been doing and lo and behold, his sound acquired that differentiated quality, it was even richer than before. “Hey, this is what I have been trying to find all week!”  says Misha… Each note was somehow more defined but in the opposite of a rough way… there was more space between each of his notes, and that space got filled up with sheen and colour instead of emptiness. The metallic (but in a positive sense) sheen the Horowitz Steinway is capable of producing is nothing short of miraculous.

In a way, this week has been the culmination of a 30-year search. Our experience bears out everything I write in my book, plus everything from the second book which is not out yet (be patient please, because now there are going to be a couple of new chapters written before that one is done!). We took the principles of orchestrated differentiated sound, and how best to produce that sound, and applied it in a medium of undreamed of responsiveness. The instrument gave back to us so much more than we ever expected.

Tension anywhere in your body stops the magic happening.

But inaccurate skeletal alignment anywhere in your body  also stops it happening. You need to stay poised, alert in every way, physically vital and mentally astute like a hawk. Such heightened concentration completely lacking in tension or effort is something we are not used to striving for. 

My thanks go to Steinway – to the people who made this instrument back in the ’40’s, to the tuners who brought it up to this amazingly high level of performance, and to Steinway’s present management which makes this wonderful gift available to us.

And I venture to be so bold as to offer a piece of advice to any pianist lucky enough to play this instrument: don’t bring your normal arsenal of fireworks to it. Don’t think that banging it or trying to produce a big, explosive sound will even remotely allow you to enter Horowitz’s aural-expressive world. The impression that he banged is all illusion. You must change everything about your playing if you want to have any chance at all of unlocking its secrets. That is why so many pianists don’t like it – they bring their normal technique to it.

You can learn so much from this instrument if you give it the chance to teach you. But to do that you must abandon everything you have brought with you and enter an unknown world of finer touch, greater sensitivity, and a new, calm, almost disinterested centeredness deep within oneself. The power that can be expressed on this instrument is huge, almost dangerous in its electric intensity, but it is of a totally new order – it comes only from “non-power.” Of course you can look for these qualities no matter what instrument you play, but none will reveal so much to you about your internal processes as this one…

If Kemal Gekic, one of the top virutosi in the world today, can feel moved to rebuild his technique from the ground up on the basis of just a few precious hours on this instrument, don’t you think that maybe you too could benefit, if you give yourself the chance?

So, in preparation: demand more from yourself in terms of orchestration. Don’t be satisfied just to learn the text. When you can perform the piece at tempo from memory, look upon that as the starting point, not the end point, and start looking for colours. And start finding new ways to produce them – force yourself on purpose into unusual pianistic situations, things that throw you out of your usual habits. Throw yourself into the deep end and then learn to swim!

When you finally sit at this instrument, you will see the reason for this unusual preparation – all will be clear.

AFF

Sound & Tonal Colour in Piano Technique – The Horowitz Steinway

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Originally posted December 9th, 2008

I write this from Miami where Misha Dacic played a recital on Horowitz’s Steinway last Sunday. An amazingly beautiful recital, very emotional for me – one of those rare moments where why one does what one does becomes palpable and fully significant… Afterwards Kemal and I discussed that instrument and how Horowitz played it. He pointed out something that is not generally perceived, that Horowitz didn’t actually play very loud. He created the illusion of loudness. The instrument has the most beautiful set of rich overtones I have ever heard, but to have them sound fully, they must not be overpowered by any of the other voices – there must be space between the sounds. To get the multileveled tonal qualities you must have a precise, incisive touch but not a heavy one. Horowitz’s forte sounds so loud because it is full of upper harmonics: if he really played loud, all those upper partials wouldn’t be there in such rich supply, they would be drowned out by the fundamental note of each vibrating string.

And the instrument itself is not that loud. One thing you notice when you touch the Landowska Steinway B is not only the beauty and depth of tone but the sheer volume of sound – it is loud! But not this one…

To access this tonal quality in playing any piano, listening must take precedence in your attention over anything physical. We work a lot on developing the strength, sensitivity and organization of the hand, but there’s a very real danger that our concern with physical issues ends up hampering us from playing well, because if your listening is even just a little less than total, your physical mechanism won’t have the demands made on it to do the job right. You have to conceive of a very specific sound and then search for it with your ears. Do not tolerate anything less than that total beauty, that totally melodic joining of sounds that makes the piano sing. It takes a real mental effort to set up the correct hierarchy of attentions and then maintain them ongoingly in time. But when you succeed, your hand will do what it’s supposed to in a much finer and more evolved way than it ever could when your were developing aspects of physical technique, because now your ears and brain are sending it definite signals as to exactly the job it has to do. There’s a weird alchemy of combined attentions that happens when this works well – you’ll recognize it; it’s palpable and you will like the strength of Being that appears when you cultivate this for some time…

AFF

The various guises of skeletality in piano technique

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Originally posted October 9th, 2008

After spending a week with Kemal Gekich in Miami it is time to update my take on skeletality. We played for each other quite a bit, and his sound just blew me away. Fecund, orchstrated, unbelievably rich singing lines combined with whispering accompaniments full of mystery and veiled clarity – it is kind of impossible to put into words the sonic effects coming out of the piano when he plays.

When it was my turn, his response was, “Hey, you don’t do anything you write in your book!” He then proceeded to show me what he meant, but to get me more skeletal he showed me that he was actually doing something a little bit different from what I wrote in my book. If you bunch your thumb and forefinger close together and then slide them forward on the desk surface, taking no care to keep your arch strong but on the contrary, letting it go and mash itself down, you begin to get an idea of how his hand feels on the keyboard when he plays. This seems sacrilege, heresy yes? To let the arch go so much? Well it turns out there’s a good reason…

One technique in a Feldenkrais Functional Integration lesson is, with the client lying on his back, to lift one leg gently by the foot, and push through the heel, up through the skeletal frame of the leg, into the pelvis and on up into the spine. A gentle rocking is set up where the pelvis, spine and neck all loosen and the head rocks as freely as the pelvis. To do this well, one must leave the leg absolutely straight. Instead of functioning like a 3-element differentiated skeletal structure (foot, shin, thigh), it now works as a unity, for all intents and purposes like a single bone. If any of the joints of the leg bent, the force of my pushing would not be transmitted cleanly through the leg into the body.

Now imagine that your forefinger is like that leg, but it’s the piano key that is pushing through your finger back into your body. If you slide the flat of your finger forward along the key and let the fingertip acually rise, scoop up like the front of a sled, and keep your wrist low and relaxed, you create this effect. Keep your finger not only completely flat, but hyper-extended! And feel the piano “pushing” you backwards. Compared to how we normally approach the piano, this is completely bizarre.

But this is how he tells me he gets all those amazing sounds out of the piano. How so?

The thing is, although your arch has now fallen, it has not emptied out. Your lumbrical muscle is still eminently potent and is working full strength. However, now its work is not divided between two goals. Instead of having to move the finger and generate the arch structure, now it only has to move the finger.

Another positive result: you discover that this rich connection of your finger to the key allows your arm, shoulder, back and pelvis all to relax without becoming lifeless. Then later when you go back to an arched finger, you begin to feel that it is inherently unstable and leads to more tension in your body. Whaaa? Doesn’t this completely contradict my whole approach??? It would appear so but actually not. Remember, my catchword is skeletality, and we are simply looking for its most effective manifestation.

A beautifully shaped arch is WAY more stable than an unaligned structure, and we have certainly not wasted our years cultivating that. But this single unit finger connects your skeleton even more easily, effectively and completely to the key, allowing you a greater control over your tone. At first it requires a really great muscular effort from parts of the hand and arm that aren’t used to working so hard. When I first tried it, even though I have a strong hand, I just felt I couldn’t. But with persistence it started to come with relative ease, and now, a couple of weeks later, I am flying!

I’ve waited some time before venturing to post this, because it is really radical and controversial, a provacative seeming about-face. But it works! Try it yourself!

AFF

Kathleen Riley: Electronic Enhancement of Piano Technique

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Originally posted July 19th, 2008

I just spent a very pleasant and productive week in New York City presenting my work to the MTNA-CFMTA symposium on Empowering Musicians: Mind, Body & Spirit. An exciting week full of surprises, one of the nicest of which was my meeting with Kathleen Riley who has been doing important work in developing biofeedback techniques for pianists. I just wrote an article about it for pianotechnique.net, which I submit for your enjoyment here…

“When Kathleen Riley invited me down to her studio to hook myself up to her electrodes and measure my muscle contractions as I play, I must admit I was a bit sceptical. I myself tend to focus too much on the physical, and here was someone going even further into that strange land where one risks being so distracted from musical concerns that one’s playing loses any life and creativity it might have once had. But I was curious, so off I went down to her office at NYU in lower Manhattan.

She put two electrodes on the extensor muscles on the upper outside of my forearm just below my elbow, and another two on my trapezius – if you reach up and over your right shoulder with your left hand to touch the soft spot between the shoulder blade and your spine, that’s about the place. She put a laptop on the piano where the music desk usually is, showing two thick lines moving on a graph, one blue (trapezius) and one brown (extensors in the forearm). These lines jumped every time I used those muscles. If I didn’t do anything, the lines trundled along at a steady 3-5 microvolts, indicating that a small amount of tonus remains in the muscle even at rest – it remains ready for work. However, Kathleen told me that many students come in with an “at rest” level of over 100 microvolts! The effort they invest in playing becomes residual tension, continuing long after the playing has stopped – it becomes a chronic contraction.

I started fooling around to see what I could do with those lines. First Katherine took me through a short calibration process where I figured out how to keep the blue shoulder line low and smooth. She also pointed out how when my hand’s arch became too flat, the tension in both muscle groups rose and the lines moved higher. This was interesting to me, because as far as I had understood it, I am the expert on the hand’s arch! But the sensors were showing me right off the bat that I could do better at practicing what I preach!

Minimizing extensor activity

Then I tried seeing the difference between playing with curved or flat fingers. Everybody agrees that using curved fingers causes less stress than either curling or flattening, but I often use the flat finger to get the biggest, boldest, juiciest sound possible – the brilliant scales near the end of Liszt’s B minor Ballade for instance. I knew that my extensors would probably work a bit more with flat fingers, but I was amazed at just how much higher my flat fingers made the graph peak. I could play a curved finger scale and keep the brown line down around 40 microvolts, but flat fingered scales pushed the line up above 80 and even 100 microvolts or more. I believe this happened because the flat fingered scale invoked the work of my lumbricals whereas in the curved-finger scale I was more likely transferring my effort over to the more subtle action of the interossei.

“Hmm,” I thought, “is this difference just because of the change in technique, or could I be doing ‘flat fingers’ incorrectly somehow, introducing a misalignment of structure that contributes to the higher levels of stress?” I played around with it and found that by being more attentive to exact alignments (something I am always bugging my students about), I could significantly lower the graph – even more for the curved finger scale than for the flat fingered scale! And when I did this, my curved finger scale started sounding almost as brilliant and full as I had wanted the flat fingered scale to sound!

It was an uncanny process: with the help of these sensors, I, the “guru” of skeletal playing, was learning better how to play skeletally! I found I was moving my hands into new, unusual positions that accentuated their capacity for 90-degree angle skeletal alignment. When I did what I usually do, the graph lines didn’t really bottom out the way I wanted them to – there was still too much tension, and so I naturally sought a new solution.

There was a really big improvement here, not something marginal. The graph showed me that I hadn’t been doing exactly what I thought I was. It helped me to do a lot better what I had initially intended to do.

Neutral shoulders

Next I played a bit of Brahms, the Intermezzo in E flat major from Op. 117. Why was that blue shoulder line peaking? Once again I had thought I was maintaining an arch in my hand that was not fixed but structurally powerful, using it to get big, warm tone in the chords and melodic line of the Brahms, but often I would see that blue line bulge up. I noticed it rise whenever I was even slightly unsure about a note (a very revealing observation in itself), but that wasn’t the whole story. Eventually I pinned it down: the blue line shot up whenever I inadvertently allowed my arch to just sightly empty out, so slightly that I failed to notice it. I had thought I was just relaxing, but the graph instantly showed me whenever this verged into an over-relaxation that caused a misalignment of my one structure. This in turn led to a rise in tension somewhere else in my body. This was aggravating! I thought I knew what I was doing, but the machine is telling me a different story! Finally I told myself, “OK, I’m going to play that Brahms again, and this time that blue line is going to bottom out and stay there!” I was determined to beat the machine!

Finally I succeeded in this, and lo and behold, I found myself in a mental state where my attention was 100% focused on what I am doing, where my arch didn’t even hint at over-relaxation or self-emasculation, and where my shoulders remained so free that any contraction there was neutralized long before it became a reality. I was now in that state of heightened attention I always strive for in performance. It was a palpable, recognizable mental calm that served my artistic purposes ideally.

Kathleen’s machine showed me that I hadn’t been doing this consistently in my practice but I thought I had. It was disturbing to discover the degree to which I was not even close to that mental state in my everyday work. But finding a way to finally achieve it was wonderfully encouraging!

Breathing spaces

One of the nice things Kathleen saw in my graphs was the frequent dipping of the lines, indicating that my muscles were capable of returning to neutral very quickly in between spurts of effort. “You should see some of the graphs for students doing something like Chopin Op. 10 #1 – it hits 160 microvolts and just stays there.”

“But there’s nowhere to breathe in that piece,” I said.

“Yes there is, give it a try.” I played a few bars of that fiendishly difficult etude and yes, you could see a significant trough in the brown line during the 16th rest at the beginning of each bar – even when I didn’t think about it and overdo it. And if I paid a little more attention to keeping that blue line well-behaved, the etude started humming and blistering really nicely!

It was fascinating to take mental control over aspects of my playing that I had never really brought into my awareness. Such a strange, empowering experience to look at the graph lines and consciously change the state of muscles in my shoulder or the shape of my hand on the keyboard to lower the height of the lines. This was my first experience of classical biofeedback and I must say, I am a convert!

Most interesting, if I now manifest a clear intention to “make that blue line bottom out,” I experience the resulting positive changes in my shoulder even when the electrodes are not attached. I can also adjust my hand position the way I would have done to keep the brown line to a minimum, and this improves my facility, sense of comfort, and most of all my sound. My hand is more skeletal than ever before!

Throughout the piano playing community there is a widespread failure to maintain a healthy arch in the hand. But the potent arch is a central tenet of Kathleen’s technique: her work with the sensors and graphs had confirmed that without that fundamental structure working well, tension levels go sky high, and when the arch becomes potent it helps the rest of the system calibrate to much lower levels of tension. Interestingly enough, she says she knew about the potent arch even before she began this work, but it is certainly nice to see such a resounding confirmation of this technical fact.

For more on Kathleen Riley’s work, please visit www.pianoperceptions.com.

Nothing new in my approach to piano technique

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Originally posted June 26th, 2008

Yesterday I had lunch with Uwe Balser, head of the piano department at the Musikschule in Heidleberg, Germany. We got to talking about our respective paths of development and he told me of a pianist named Andre Esterhazy who lives in London. A pauper living alone on social assistance with his 5 cats, Esterhazy was a former student of the great Henrich Neuhaus. He looked and played like Richter – “A complete Richter clone, in body type, hands on the keyboard, sound, musicianship, everything; it was uncanny,” Herr Balser tells me. He had very few students, generally only the occasional person who heard that he could help pianists with problems. That this situation could exist in one of the musical captitals of the world is in itself extraordinary. But his teaching was also extraordinary, pure gold, as Herr Balser put it. “One thing I remember him saying was about the key muscles of the hand for a pianist: the giant thumb muscle of course, then the big big of muscle around the fifth metacarpal, and the muscle in betweeen thumb and forefinger.”

This last is of course the first dorsal interosseous that I mention in my film – it was nice for me to hear it confirmed by such an impeccable source! The more I hear about the teaching of the past masters, the more I am sure that there is nothing new in my approach to piano technique, I just tried to systematize it in a new way.