Posts Tagged ‘legato in piano technique’

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

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

A Piano Technique for Horowitz’s Steinway – an amazing instrument

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Originally posted December 14th, 2008

Well it happened, I finally got my chance on the Horowitz Steinway. I heard Kemal Gekic played it Wednesday evening at La Gorca country club, and they took a day to move it back to the Steinway gallery, so it was Friday when Misha Dacic and I had the whole place to ourselves.

Wednesday itself was quite an experience. At the rehearsal, we could tell that no ordinary way of touching the piano would do the trick. Many people don’t like the piano – I think it is because they haven’t figured out how to coax that golden sound from it. I could see and hear Kemal adjusting his technique to suit the incredibly fine tolerances needed. An incredibly light touch is needed, but not a superficial one. And slowly, more and more of this burnished brass, golden velvet sound began to arise. Each voice is so clear in relation to its neighbours that you can get away with pedalling several notes and maintain clarity. At the end of the hour Kemal said he was more exhausted than he had ever been after a practice session or performance. The instrument demands the utmost in your attention – if you are even a micrometer or a milligram off, it won’t give you that special sound.

At the recital again you could hear him going further and further “in” to the instrument – by the end it was his totally, and the audience was wild with rapture – they had never heard anything like it.

On Friday I sat at the instrument and felt totally incapable. But I had to do something, this was my chance! So I tried a Mozart sonata and slowly acclimatized my touch, getting rid of any last remaining vestiges of collapse or pressing, allowing my fingers to just reach, just join and nothing more. I felt the need for my body to be more plastic. I felt my shoulders melting as my whole body tried to give itself more to the instrument. It is paradoxical – you must become more neutral and avoid digging in to the instrument in any way, avoid any sort of force, and yet you must give yourself to the instrument utterly – mentally, aurally, and there must be a corollary physical melting inside that has nothing to do with collapse but has to do with the body letting go of any inner constriction that may be blocking some minor part of you from total participation in this sonority-love feast.

Here’s a clip of that Mozart: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XERpWtToUXQ

I tried some Chopin, one of the Ballades, and as my sound got bigger I resisted the temptation to get excited inside. I could feel the “excited” impulse welling up in me, but I could also feel this impulse contributing to “excited” moves, a small amount of overmoving which was enough to disturb my contact with the instrument. The sound reverted to simply beautiful instead of astounding and never heard of before. It takes far more mental concentration than we are used to to maintain one’s relationship to this instrument. If husband and wife took such care of each other there would be no more divorce!

When Horowitz did a bold voicing, it sounded like he was banging it out, but nothing could be farther from the truth. I tried it, and it simply doesn’t work, especially not on that instrument. Much finer treatment is needed. The touch needs to be weightless and incisive. You need to stay totally calm inside, virtually detached. You have to monitor everything that’s going on – if even one component gets away from you, you are lost. The body needs to be fluid, not held but also not collapsed anywhere.

The thumbs need to stand up, to stand alone, to be gloriously independent from the rest of the hand.

At a certain point I felt so much electricity coursing through me that I had to jump up, run around, fall down on the ground and just shake for awhile, it was crazy. Misha recorded a few bits on his cellphone, and even on his cellphone you could hear that magical Horowitz sound. It was uncanny.

I am still in shock.

Today Kemal played a second recital on the instrument at Steinway Gallery, and spoke afterwards about his own artistic relationship to Horowitz and what he has learned from the instrument. He told of not really liking it when he first tried it several years ago, of feeling in the end that he shouldn’t really be playing it – as if his playing was too rough for it. But just at the end of that tryout, he played Liszt’s Waldesrauschen and heard some colours that he had never heard before, and this kept haunting him afterwards. It was the incredibly light touch of Waldesrauschen that opened up the piano and made it shimmer in an unheard of way, something unimaginable. This one experience “infected” his whole subsequent musical and pianistic development, and you will hear this documented on the next series of CD’s he will release next year. The Debusssy-Faure-Ravel CD is to die for – already he is exploring an entirely new colour world. But I am straying from the subject, back to here and now, Miami, December 2008.

I only pray that the entire La Gorza recital gets put on YouTube (I will keep you posted) because it was like having the old man back with us. Kemal’s playing was speculative, introspective, the playing of “composer’s mind,” just as was the playing of Horowitz. I have never heard Kemal play better. Nay, I have never heard him play nearly so well! It was the joining of Kemal’s genius and sensitivity with this miracle of an instrument that transported us all to some ethereal realm for a couple of precious hours.

So… it is possible – to make a piano sound that beautiful. Only three ingredients are needed. An instrument that responsive and beautiful in its expression, the talent to handle it, and the knowledge of how to handle it.

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 high arch vs. flat fingers in piano technique: playing the Landowska Steinway

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Originally posted December 6th, 2008

I really must be more regular with these blog posts… It’s been a month since Obama’s victory but much longer than that since I’ve written anything about piano technique – and this at a time when my own playing is going through a metamorphosis full of new insights…

Did I mention here that I recently had the extreme good fortune to acquire a 1942 New York Steinway B once owned by Wanda Landowska? This piano has changed my life. And largely due to its influence, the collision between two diametrically opposed piano techniques I have been describing here has begun to reach some sort of detente.

You recall how I have been raving about Kemal’s extremely flat fingered approach and describing how it has resolved many of my facility problems in a totally new and effective way. But when I took all that back to the Landowska Steinway, she wouldn’t let me play like that on her! That instrument is so responsive, so sensitive, so easily changeable in her colour, that I felt I was bashing it unmercifully when I tried all the flat fingered stuff that worked so wonderfully on a lesser instrument (by ‘lesser’ I include the very fine concert Steinway at FIU, Kemal’s university).

So I went back to the high arch, the meat of what I describe in my book and film, but now hovercrafting it even more extremely, going further and further into unstable equilibrium, not digging in and standing on the board but hovering above it and letting my long rope-fingers snake down and barely reach the keys. When I do this well, my hand actually gets bigger. Each joint, released from the compression of standing, opens up and enlarges the entire hand. Plus I get really exact control of the key, and the magic resonance and colour of that instrument begins to emerge.The adage, “compressions stifles the instrument’s voice” was never truer than on this “grand old dame.”

I can also cultivate this arch much better than I could earlier because of advances in my own Feldenkrais work. The benefits of Feldenkrais increase exponentially over long periods of time if you keep doing it – the initial revelation is great but it is nothing compared to the results of the same new stimuli being repeated over long periods, as each part of the brain integrates and begins to share the new kinesthetic information with the other parts. Thus it is much clearer now how each tiny anomaly in my hand instantly evokes a contraction elsewhere – in my shoulder, my back, and especially
1) in the “neck cords” that run from the side of my neck down into my arm and
2) in my hip joints.

The open 90 degree angle between thumb and second finger correlates directly with a sense of openness in the hip joint. One mirrors the other and influences the other. Thus not only does any anomaly in the hand evoke tension in one of these places, but also tension in any of these places evokes something going wrong in the hand.

When it really starts to work, my thumb is finally, truly individuated from the hand, and I feel new efforts in a couple of specific muscles that indicate this. One is in the first dorsal interosseous (see film for an explanation), which must really work to maintain the almost “opposed” feeling of thumb and hand (not “opposed” as in thumb opposition, bringing the thumb tip around towards the fingertip, but “opposed” as in struggling to stay away from each other instead of the almost inevitable falling towards each other). Another muscle that I really feel working much more tangibly than before is the big fat one on the inside of the thumb’s metacarpal, the one that works to sweep the thumb under the hand but not necessarily oppose it to the hand.

OK, so I am busy practicing like this, finding new exactitude in both body and hand posture that leads to increased virtuosity every day – a fascinating, compelling experience, a vindication of everything I’ve been teaching and a clarification, an intensification – perfecting it, refining it, creating it anew… Wonderful!

But when I go to my other piano, an old EHRBAR from Vienna, I find that Kemal’s flat fingers still give me more juice – I feel more secure, everything GOES better. My high arch is wonderful but finicky; living in unstable equilibrium is somehow living on the edge. I am more COMFORTABLE down there resting snugly on my squashed fingers “in” key more than “on” key… Bizarre! “In key” stifles the greater instrument but opens up the sound of the lesser one.

I write this from Miami where I am in residence at the Gekic’s, and tomorrow I go to Miami Steinway to try out Horowitz’s piano which is in residence there. In preparation I am practicing less, playing through more, and some sort of synthesis is finally starting to happen. I just play, I am in the sound, in the emotion, in the vast investment of psychic energy that this music demands of me, and I notice that I can’t tell any more whether I am doing high arch or flat fingers. It is just going… Whatever feels more convenient in the moment, that’s what’s happening…

What is important is the tremendous learning that became available to me when I subjected myself to these two wildly contradictory pianistic regimes!

More later…

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

The Strength of an Ordinary Egg and Piano Technique

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Originally posted July 21st, 2008

Everybody knows how easy it is to break an egg, because of its very thin shell. Today our young scientists learned that an egg can also be very strong. Nature made it to be both light and strong, so that it can withstand the impact of falling to the ground when the egg is laid.

We talked about the properties of an egg: it is round, light, smooth and white. The children were asked to hypothesize (make a scientific guess) about the egg’s strength. Is an egg strong and powerful, or weak and fragile?

  • five students said the egg was strong and powerful
  • eleven students said the egg was weak and fragile.
To find out the answer to our question, we carefully placed the uncooked, ordinary egg in some soft clay. Using the egg and the two blocks of wood, we made a triangular base to support a large, lightweight cookie sheet.
We slowly added books, one by one, to see how much weight the egg could help support. Excitement was building as each book was placed on the stack. In the end, we found the egg to support sixty-six books: over twenty pounds! Why didn’t the egg break sooner? The egg has an arch at each end, an excellent structure for supporting weight.

Original URL: http://hastings.lexingtonma.org/staff/SLee/science/egg.html

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.

Resolving extreme inner hand tension in piano technique

Saturday, August 29th, 2009

Originally posted April 21st, 2008

I gave a lesson today to a woman who exemplifies the preparation I talk about in my book: stiffening the hand prior to playing even a single note. Even if it simply approaches the keyboard, the hand prepares itself for the onslaught and stress of playing by rigidly forming itself into what it thinks the right shape is, ahead of time. She knows a lot about my teaching, we’ve had many lessons, she’s seen the film and done the exercises – but somehow this inner pattern is so longstanding and integrated that she was still not fully aware of it, let alone being capable of letting it go.

Earlier on I had given her lessons on standing the hand up into its arch structure, learning to walk on her fingers, etc. I figured that when she learned how to use that structure well, the inner tension would begin to dissipate as the bones took over the work of her muscles. But this was not happening. It was an extreme case, so I tried something else.

Fingers as ropes

Step 1: I had her imagine that her finger was a loose rope – about as different from the standing, cathedral arch finger as you can get! I had her lay her hand gently on key, the heel of her hand mashing the white keys while her 2nd 3rd & 4th fingers rested on the three black keys. I pressed her 2nd finger into its key as gently, slowly and softly as possible. Still I could feel her finger almost convulse as its chronic inner tension was triggered by the knowledge that now it would play a note. But because she was so relaxed, my student could now feel that mini-convulsion. I told her, “this is what you are doing all the time, and we have to teach your muscles some other way.” (By the way, she has had serious forearm pain for some time now.)

I continued to repeat this gentle pressing until she could feel her finger stay soft as it depressed its key. Then I did the same for her 3rd & 4th fingers on their respective keys. Finally I went back and forth between her fingers, playing one then another, acclimatizing her reflexes to the new sensation of depressing the keys with no effort involved. It was kind of a hyper-gentle fingertapping.

Step 2: Next with her hand remaining in this nokia composer ringtones download free mosquito ringtones gold mp3 ringtones free polyphonic ringtones download free ringtones verizon make your own free ringtones free new ringtones download free ringtones samsung info motorola remember ringtones free motorola ringtones tracfone ericsson polyphonic ringtones sony free real tone ringtones alltel free ringtones nextel ringtones free make own ringtones download free ringtones to cellular phone virgin mobile phone ringtones free ringtones for cricket cell phone free nokia ringtones tracfone midi ringtones position I asked her to depress a key herself with the same “non-effort.” At first she returned to a sort of convulsion but because a new picture had been “painted” in her nervous system while she remained passive, she now had an internal reference point, an idea of what the sensation would be, and she finally discovered how to bring the key down with a movement that was totally “clean,” that is, completely lacking that quality of inner struggle and physical conflict.

Step 3: I began to gently lift her forearm so the heel of her hand rose slightly off the white keys, asking her to continue playing one note gently. I gave her the image of ropes again. “Your finger is a rope. A rope has no bones, no structure, no solidity. But this is a big, thick rope like the ones that tie a boat to the dock, so if you flop it into a key, it will be heavy enough to press the key down.” As she tried to get these weird rope-fingers down into their keys I continually buoyed her forearm, preventing it from depressing or squeezing itself downward effortfully. She began to love this feeling of a soft finger that depressed the key by simply flopping into it – she felt way more relaxed than she ever had in her life while at the piano. Occasionally she would tense her finger up to  play, but now this was such a different and unpleasant sensation that she quickly recognized it and returned to the new way.

Step 4: Now it was time to join two notes together, to begin to create melodic fragments. Again, it was important to do something different from the walking I describe in the book & film, which were based on a secure, clear, skeletal structure. She was so used to using muscular effort to create that structure that we had to find a way that was “clean” of all her chronic parasitic contractions.  I had her simply leave one rope finger lying heavily in its key while her arm moved in such a way that another rope finger became positioned over its note and by accident fell into it. I asked her to leave her finger totally neutral and to try to sense how the movement of her arm in space just dragged the finger to its key and made it fall in.

This was more difficult! I asked her to verify that she was doing it by listening for the melodic interval: could she hear the interval of a 3rd sounding indicating that she had succeeded in holding the 2 keys down together? Or a 2nd? Again she tended to spasm her finger, but I kept guiding with my hand firmly holding her forearm, preventing it from “digging in” as she was used to. The biggest tendency was for her to press her forearm down. This she had been doing constantly for years, and such an ingrained, longstanding pattern was not going to give up so easily. But we kept at it, using gentleness as our weapon, until that pattern literally melted away and she succeeded in making an absolutely exquisite melodic join with none of the contractions that had been her constant companion up until now. It was a great, extreme example of how force will get you nowhere, sensitivity everywhere.

At the end of the lesson she felt terrible. Her question was, “Will I ever be able to learn this? Will I ever be able to use this in my playing?” Obviously she had her doubts. I could have gotten angry and said, “What? I give you the lesson that finally frees you from the pattern that gave you grief for years and you’re depressed???” But I didn’t. Not just because I’m a nice guy but because I knew exactly what she was going through, having been there many times myself. The patterns that we use in daily life define our sense of self. When we inhibit an old pattern and learn a new one, it can be really alienating – I don’t feel like myself any more. And we had to go very slowly in the lesson – at the end of the hour we had succeeded only in playing a melodic fragment from her Chopin Nocturne that consisted of 7 or 8 notes, nothing more, and this was with one hand only, way under tempo. Of course she felt she was never going to get it!

It takes great courage to become a beginner again. She was literally learning to walk on the keyboard again, in a totally unfamiliar way. She had to leave everything she knew behind. All I could do was congratulate her on her bravery in daring to tread the unknown, to tell her it was normal that she was feeling discouraged, but that if she exercised patience and, as Moshe Feldenkrais said, continued to “go slow in order to go fast,” she would acquire this new skill in a surprisingly short space of time. It only looks impossible when you can’t do it.