The Hack Saturday, Feb 6 2010 

Phone Box In The Snow
Image by rofanator via Flickr

The music hack, of course.

How easy it would be to become one.  Wouldn’t have to practice, play in tune, play all the parts, figure out fingerings, rehearse, look beneath the surface, or care about our playing at all, really.

Contributing to rehearsals would no longer be necessary.  We could either take over the rehearsal and avoid all discussion, or breeze in late.  You know, phone it in.  Miss notes?  Parts?  Entire melodies or bass lines?  That’s OK.  Just phone it in.  Life is so much easier that way.

No expectations, no standards, and no conscience, either.

I’ve seen it happen, and know you have, too.  Someone spends a very significant amount of time and money going to school, taking lessons, coaching, even practicing.  Then s/he graduates, goes into the business, and perhaps becomes quite busy.

Next it’s “Oh, I didn’t have time to warm up.”  Then, “I didn’t have time to practice.”  Shortly after that, “We really lucked out on that one, didn’t we?  No one would ever guess that we didn’t rehearse.”  And then, “I’ll just cut this one passage.  No one will notice.”  Or, “Those 2 tempo markings are almost the same (for 2 contrasting sections), so I’m just going to play them the same.”

What’s the rationale here?  I played well in school, so no maintenance required?

In rehearsals, do you end in the wrong key because you never, ever looked at the music?  No problem.  Just play a couple of chords in the key of the composition.  That way, everyone knows you really know.  (Never mind the waste of everyone’s time, or that no one can get their pitch for the next number.  That’s not important.)

What’s that about?  Accompanying = sightreading?  Nooooooo!  First of all, if you can’t sightread better than that, you have no business being in a rehearsal!

What bothers me most is that once the descent into being a hack starts, sometimes there is a refusal to recognize that there is a problem.  So the descent continues.  A reversal, and thus improvement, never happens.

We can keep this from being our story.

What is required to play well every time?

  • always warm up, even if it’s in the car
  • always practice, even if it’s only 1/2 hr. once in a while
  • always be curious
  • always look below the surface
  • always arrive early so you can get your bearings.  If you feel like you have your act together, there’s much less chance that you’ll lose it.  Mistakes happen, but they don’t have to destroy your confidence or affect the rehearsal in general.
  • always learn the entire score!  Orchestration, all chorus parts, inner lines, words, phrasing, translation (musical terms and texts of songs/opera), preludes, postludes, interludes, recitatives, cadenzas, 1st and 2nd endings, repeats, codas
  • when you’re not 100%, find a way to deal with that.  Most times, you can still practice and accomplish something.  Practicing under tempo is a good idea!  You can reinforce fingerings, dynamics, tempo changes, learn the words better, and become accustomed to transitions between pieces, all without the pressure of performance tempo.

Taking care of your performance/rehearsal level is important.  Always looking for improvement is a big part of that.  It’s not that hard, but does require

  • dedication
  • determination
  • dealing with distractions

and

  • the will to stay at the top of your game.

It’s when we begin accepting things as they are that the downward slide starts to happen.

Take care of your talent!

What steps do you take to keep your edge?

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Artistic temperament Saturday, Jan 30 2010 

image via Flickr

The phrase “artistic temperament” is used so often, I wonder whether we know what it means.

In this post, I want to explore various assumptions I’ve been thinking about all week.  My interpretation of the phrase as it relates to myself is somewhat different, I suspect.

When you hear someone say “artistic temperament,” do you picture a diva having a tantrum?  Treating everyone like scum?  Looking at the ceiling for inspiration during a performance?

There are plenty of people who act in annoying ways, and they’re not all artists.  There are also plenty of people who have the diva thing down, but have no talent.

Sometimes unreasonable behavior is an outward manifestation of insecurity, nerves, or fear.  (If I push you away, then you can’t get close enough not to like me.)

Recently I performed in the city concert series in Burlington, Iowa, where I grew up.  My best friend since 7th grade flew in from California!  When I asked her if I had been annoying on the day of the concert, she said, “a little.”  What I remember is wanting to have lunch at Perkins rather than at a new vegetarian place in town.  (OK, I insisted.)  I felt that I needed to do something reliable, to know what I was ordering.  (Besides, I would make a lousy vegetarian.)  My concert felt like adventure enough for that day.

I don’t think I’m a diva, at least not most of the time.  Knowing that I can be impatient before a concert, I make a point of greeting the stage manager in advance, letting her/him know that my nerves may come out in that way, so please don’t take it personally.  Funny thing is, I know I do it, but I honestly can’t tell when it’s happening.

Being a diva and having an artistic temperament are quite different in my view.

An artistic temperament includes:

  • sensitivity
  • the ability to dream/imagine/think outside the box/solve musical puzzles
  • the drive to perform/compose/direct/write
  • seeing one’s art as the first priority, the only priority

Artists tend to see their art as a major part of themselves.  So when their art is criticized, they feel that their personalities are being criticized, that the critic doesn’t like them.

We need to be diplomatic in rehearsals for this reason.  On occasion, we find ourselves commited to a performance with people whose playing we dislike.  It is crucial to find a way to get along, at least for that one concert.

My art is my priority. I find myself skipping a movie, for instance, if I feel the need to practice more for an upcoming performance.

When I play, all other concerns go away.  Yesterday, even though I had a bad cold, my awareness of the sore throat, congestion, and altered hearing disappeared completely during a rehearsal.

Someone asked me whether I had experienced a defining moment telling me that I wanted to be a pianist.  No ~ however, this is what I’ve always done.

The most convincing proof to me that I have an artistic temperament is simply this:  I can’t live with out my art.

How about you?  Please share your thoughts!

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Following my own advice Saturday, Jan 23 2010 

green traffic light
Image via Wikipedia

Until now, I’ve been writing about what I feel is optimal in terms of practicing and staying healthy.  And since I’ve recently emerged from a year of unanticipated interruptions, I am happy to be practicing every day and working out again after a complete stop.

Lately I’ve found that I have significantly more energy.

Hence the green light!

I feel motivated and excited about pursuing my goals.  Having the get-up-and-go needed to practice every day with focus is crucial, as is reclaiming the motivation to book concerts.

I feel like I am once again on the right track.

I have a new lease on life!

The staying power of this outlook is not a given.  I know I won’t feel 100% every day.  My goal is to remember what fantastic feels like and use that to inform my progress on lower-energy days.

This time, I am following the advice I had been ignoring about working out.  I do dumbbells.  The general wisdom is that you should add reps before lifting more weight.  Since I felt strong and gung-ho in the past, I lifted more and more weight without adding reps.  That makes for a shorter workout, but I came down with various bugs fairly often.  So then I would have to stop working out, backtrack and start over.  That was so frustrating, I’d like to find a way to be more consistent.

I’m going for Monday, Wednesday, Friday workouts, period, alternating upper and lower body.  No more 8 days in a row, even if I feel like I can handle it.  I’ve worked out only 6 times this time around, but I can feel a big difference already.  My body alignment is better, pulse lower, concentration much improved, and I sleep better at night.  In addition, mindful eating is easier when combined with exercise.  Somehow, food considerations become part of the overall fitness plan, not an enormous question of self-discipline alone.

An important aspect of my eating plan is to go for variety.  Consuming foods of different colors is one way to do this.  Food groups are also important, but focusing on colors as well adds some fun to the plan, and another angle.

Eat, Drink, and Be Healthy” by Walter Willett is a good place to read about food choices.  Dr. Willett provides clear explanations of the science supporting healthy eating, with summaries in plain English at the end of each chapter.  He advocates making one or two small changes at a time.  His approach is easier to adjust to than a crash or fad diet, and is sustainable.  It’s not about deprivation or changes made only for the duration of the diet.  (When temporary changes are made, what happens after?  If no awareness has been gained, then old habits return without being seen as problematic.)

My practicing is going well!  Right now I’m learning the 1st movement of the third Saint-Säens Violin Concerto.  Today is the third day that I’ve worked on the piece.  I’ve increased the tempo from  =  72 to 82 in one day!

10 more metronome clicks to go, with 3 more days ’til the first rehearsal.  This gradual, monitored increase feels much calmer and more reliable than the panic-and-guess approach.

I’m practicing what I’ve been preaching!
I hope you’ll hold me to it.

Please add your comments about staying healthy and the ways in which being proactive benefits your playing!

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Excuses or progress? You decide. Saturday, Jan 16 2010 

Piano in a Practice Room
Image by Yay, it’s Rob! via Flickr

“I could play it in the practice room!”

How many times have you heard this from your students?  How often have you said it yourself?  I have both heard and said (although not recently!) these exact words.

I would suppose that this rates as Excuse #1, the one that teachers hear most often.  How can we banish it for good?

If I didn’t believe hope exists, I wouldn’t be writing this post.

Let’s look at the possibilities.  First, we would have to ask “Why?”  “WHY did it sound better in the practice room?”  After posing the question, I would listen to the first few answers, then direct the conversation.

The most cause that keeps people from creating a finished product is  unfocused “practice.”   What needs to happen is anything but playing from the beginning to the end, time after time.  Always playing fast is something else that doesn’t work.

  • the muscles involved in playing need to feel what they’re doing, similar to stretching before and after a workout
  • jumping from one area of the keyboard to another needs to be felt as a measurement, and choreographed
  • intervals need to be felt as distances in the hands.  Try playing a third, C-E, first with the 1st and 3rd fingers, then with the 1st and 2nd.  Do these two hand positions feel different from each other?
  • scale passages need to be practiced.  After the thumb plays (in a descending scale), who plays next?  Is that finger ready before the last possible moment?  Your thumb triggers the finger that follows.  Are your hand and arm moving in the appropriate direction?

What happens when you miss something?  I hope you’re not mindlessly plowing ahead, ignoring the problem.  If you’re ignoring it, the the next time you arrive at that spot you’ll still have the same problem.  Now you’re programming it in!  And if you continue playing after a mistake, thinking you’ll remember where it was, good luck!  You will save so much time by practicing that spot right then.  How can you know how the problem occured if you keep playing and go back later?

Of course it’s easier and more fun, perhaps, to just keep playing.  But then there’s no improvement.  How could there be?  In fact, progress is being impeded.

Maybe you’re happy with the easy way.  If you are content with mediocrity, you can stop reading here.

An example of one approach to learning a new piece:  one of my students is learning a piece by Gurlitt.  On the 3rd system, the right hand has four chords, while the left hand has a repeated pattern.  The 3rd of these chords contains 2 accidentals.

That particular chord, in my student’s first lesson sight-reading the piece, had “PANIC” written all over it (the look on her face and the changes in her body, and even the air in the room, were unmistakable).  You’ve seen this before:   first, assume it’s impossible; then come to a screeching halt and painfully discern every note in the chord, every time for weeks.

If you begin by assuming something is impossible, then you never have to find a way to overcome the difficulty.  It has to stay impossible so you can reinforce your mediocrity, or your old way of doing things.

Something worth remembering:  a piece may seem quite difficult when you are first learning it.  This does not mean that you need to feel that it’s always difficult.  It’s time to learn how to progress.  Making the same mistakes all the time keeps the level of difficulty right up there.  When that happens, there is an additional time period added to learning the piece.  The main activity during that added time is “undoing” all the mistakes you’ve learned.

Here’s what we did in my student’s lesson:  I asked her to take the most difficult chord (the 3rd one, with the accidentals) out of context.  Just play the right hand, one chord only.  (OK, no problem!)

Next, she played the 3rd chord followed by the 4th.  (Again, no problem!  This may turn out to be a positive experience after all!)

Then we went backwards.  (Gasp!)  4th chord, 3rd chord.  (OK!  Whew.)

After that, we tried all 4 chords as written, under tempo.  Then all 4,  backwards.

I ellicited a pledge from my student that she will practice the right hand out of context, alternating approaches, under tempo, for 2 weeks (until her next lesson).  A different piece she had practiced for the lesson was much better, due to focused work and guided practicing.  So this has a good chance of succeeding, too.

I used the example of reading a book.  When you encounter an unfamiliar word, what do you do?  My father always said, “Look it up!”  Now I appreciate his advice.  After you know what it means, remember how your teacher always said, “Now use it in a sentence”?  Practicing works the same way!

There are many details to attend to when learning a score.  Playing through from the beginning to the end won’t help integrate the ideas the composer took the trouble to notate.  Fingerings, dynamics, tempo markings, being certain to learn all the notes correctly ~ these are details that are part of the music, part of the sound. They are not merely marks on the page, take them or leave them.

So, as they say, “engage brain” and practice mindfully!  You will save time and panic in the long run, and have very little to “unlearn” as you progress.

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Increasing the tempo Saturday, Jan 9 2010 

Big Giant Metronome
Image by Paul Girvan (Mr.) via Flickr

When you have a piece that needs to be substantially faster in a week, how do you accomplish that?  Seems like quite a leap!

What is your method?  Hit and miss?  Cross your fingers?  (It’s hard to play that way…)  Guesswork?

Having a plan helps.  Not only is it more reliable, but having a way to proceed gives you something to hang on to, keeping nerves ~even panic ~ under control.

You may have your own reliable method worked out.  Please comment!  What follows certainly is not the only way to go.

This is what works for me:

First Day

  1. Find the passage you play the slowest.
  2. Experiment with the metronome until you’ve found a comfortable tempo for that passage.
  3. Write the number (such as “ = 60 “) in your practice log.
  4. Play the entire piece at this metronome marking.
  5. When this tempo is comfortable throughout, increase the tempo by 2 clicks.  Or, if it’s very slow, you could increase by 4 clicks.  Jumping up 10, however, is inviting crackups.
  6. Keep upping the metronome by 2 as long as you feel comfortable.
  7. Write the ending tempo for that day in your practice log.

Starting with the entire piece at the comfortable tempo for the slowest passage ensures that your efforts will proceed smoothly.  You don’t want to have a portion of the piece that requires you to slam on the brakes!

Subsequent Days

  1. Try starting one level below the previous day’s ending tempo.  You will feel more comfortable, and will be better able to continue with the top level in a few minutes.
  2. Continue to increase the tempo as before.

Notes:  the more you increase the tempo, the closer the metronome numbers will be to each other.  (i.e., if you being at 60, 64 may be easy, and you may reach 72, all in the first day.  As you near the final tempo, however, large increases in tempo become more difficult/less reliable.)

The metronome is a tool.  A reminder and a guide.  Be sure to keep your playing expressive as you continue to speed up.  (See “Your metronome:  tool or tyrant?“)

When I was a student at the Aspen Music Festival, I arrived early for a lesson one day.  My teacher, Irma Vallecillo, was practicing Hindemith, increasing the tempo in the manner described above.  She performed the piece wonderfully just a few days later.  After witnessing her success, I tried it.  It works!

Also, just this morning my adult beginner student had a lesson.  She tried increasing the tempo of a piece, and was so happy that she did it!

How do you increase the tempo?

If you’re trying this for the first time, how did it go?

Please comment!

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How do you return to practicing after a hiatus? Sunday, Jan 3 2010 

Piano Hands 5
Image by alexanderward12 via Flickr

Happy New Year, Everyone!  Wishing you health, happiness, peace and prosperity in 2010.

I am starting to practice again after a 3 week break.  This post explores some aspects of how I return after taking some time off.

Although we may vow to practice every day without exception, we all find ourselves taking a break from time to time, whether planned or due to illness, other responsibilities, being on hold with ConEd, travel, etc.

In the past, I would get angry with myself.  Not helpful!  That leads to yelling at yourself when staying calm would be the way to go.  When you acknowledge that everyone has days off, getting back into the loop is much less of a struggle.

What can we expect when we start again?  (Note that I did not say “start over.”)

Perfection?  Probably not.  However, if you are going back to music you have practiced recently, you can expect improvement!  Somehow, “ignoring” the music for a while lets it “cook.”  You will most likely find new insights when you return to it.

Jello fingers?  Yes… so I use the first practice session to concentrate on my warmup.  Skipping the warmup after time off just doesn’t work well for me.  I need to feel the muscles in my fingers, so I exaggerate the movements.

Practicing under tempo is useful, but extremely slow practice is not necessary.  I’ve already learned the notes.  But right now, performance tempo invites mistakes that I’d rather not add to the mix.

I usually dislike my playing that first day.  That is frustrating, but by now I expect it.  By the second day, it starts to sound better.

The first day back also seems to be a good time to assess fingerings.  If something feels uncomfortable (a level or two below “rusty”), this may be the time to experiment.  See whether a different fingering feels better.

Dynamic changes may not sound smooth.  In addition to that, if a notated dynamic contrast is completely missing, mark the spot in your music!  That means you didn’t learn that spot well enough.  This is a great time to eliminate the “oops” and fix the gap.  When you’ve remedied the problem, that phrase will usually fit into the whole more easily when you return to performance tempo in a few days.

I find it extremely motivating to set a goal, such as a performance date.  With a concert in place, I am far less likely to return to vacation mode.  (I have an aversion to making a fool of myself on stage.  Wonderful incentive!)

It is also helpful to keep a practice journal.  You’ll be able to see your progress.  I have found that dropping and then returning to a program speeds my progress toward my performance goal.  If you have a journal from the time you started learning the notes, you will be able to eliminate guess work and have accurate feedback.  (Do you remember what you did a week ago?  A month ago?  Remembering the notes is enough!)

What do you do when returning to practice after a break?  How do you help your students get back into it?  How much time do you need to get back to normal?

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“Play what it is, not what it isn’t.” Sunday, Dec 27 2009 

Beginning of piano introduction to "Du Bist Die Ruh" by Schubert

“Play what it is, not what it isn’t,” is something Martin Katz said to me in a lesson.  This, along with many other intuitive insights of his, transformed my playing dramatically.

We all bring our past along with us to rehearsals, lessons, coachings, and performances.  That may be unavoidable.  However, we can overcome many things that block our progress.

This particular lesson included the song “Du Bist Die Ruh,” by Franz Schubert.  Although it is only 2 pages, it is not easy for singers or pianists.  Both performers must be very quiet.  After all, the poem is about peace and love. Also, when you sing the 2nd page (yes, you, even if your are a pianist!), you will find some spots where you might run out of breath unless everything goes perfectly.

The singer’s part must be addressed by the pianist, of course.  Getting the 2nd page to be in sync is a big challenge, due to the singer’s potential need to change her/his breathing plan because of the demands of quiet singing, the ascending line with a diminuendo, and the fermata (also on a quiet note!).   And some words begin with a vowel, making the pianist’s task of “catching” the singer more difficult.

Listen: Kathleen Ferrier sings "Du Bist Die Ruh"

I felt intimidated by the song, afraid that some of the notes wouldn’t sound or that I would be out of sync with the initial vowels.  To compensate, I was bending over the keys (way over).  Martin said, “You look like Rachmaninoff playing for the very last time!  It’s a two-page song!!!”  He was right.  And then he said, “Play what it is, not what it isn’t.”

Soon I was able to let go of “Don’t play too loud!” “Careful!” “You’ll be late!” and other panic-based, unhelpful messages to myself.

What a difference! No one had ever suggested a positive way to approach music to me before.  My experience with previous teachers had been to hear only criticism, with no positive approach to follow.  (I heard what was wrong every time, not what was going well.  And the emphasis on what went wrong made practicing an exercise in backtracking ~ clicking “undo,” if you will.)  Beginning with the day of my lesson with Martin, the song has been no problem.  (This also applies to a lot of other music!)

Recently I have been working on this idea with a student who was an adult beginner just a few years ago.  She has made impressive progress during that time, but still gets in her own way occasionally.  Adult beginners tend to have a lot of angst about playing.  They feel they’re behind, have to learn as an adult what kids learned without thinking, that printed music is hard to read, and the list goes on from there.

My approach is to ask my student questions.  The answers that follow give me an idea about how she is thinking.  Usually, she needs to be more specific.  Also, last week I found that a general panic was still lurking just beneath its former up-front status, resulting in a lack of focus.  The panic is about the huge potential for playing wrong notes.  So then the tension escalates, wrong notes occur more and more often as the piece proceeds (reinforcing the fear, giving it validity), and focusing on the playing at today’s level is almost impossible.

Letting go of past fears is not easy.  But when the piece has been well-practiced, it is time to focus on how it IS played, not on all the things that were difficult up to that point.  (Has positive practicing replaced the fear, or only made it lurk beneath the surface?)

David Thomas, principal clarinetist with the Columbus Symphony, recently posted the following two Tweets:

“If you are trying to play perfectly you block yourself with effort.  Strive without effort.”

and

“No-one ever died from playing a wrong note.  I hope.”

Thanks, David!  (Tweets reprinted with David’s permission.)

“Play what it is, not what it isn’t.”

Suggestions welcome!  How do you handle your fear about learning and performing music?  How do you work with your students to help them minimize their fears?

Optimize your practice time! Saturday, Dec 19 2009 

opera score
Image by romaryka via Flickr

How do you manage your practice time?  Since it is almost impossible to have the same amount of time available every day, it helps to be organized and flexible.  After all, exact repetition every day is soooooooo booooring.

Do you start at the beginning of your program each time you practice?  Are you able to practice everything each time?  Do you have several programs going at once?  It usually happens that I have many different situations to prepare for all at the same time.  With all those variables of performance dates, types of music (vocal, instrumental, collaborative, solo, choral music, etc.), there is rarely a time when everything is ready to go on the same day.

I have found it crucial to set priorities for each practice session.  Depending on the time available, the dates of upcoming concerts, and whether or not a piece is ready to perform, I make a list in my head ~ or sometimes on paper ~ about what I can realistically accomplish that day.  (Most of the time it works.  Sometimes I revise my goals along the way ~ and don’t get mad.)

Keeping a notebook of practice sessions helps immensely.  When you can see the last date you worked on a certain piece, as well as what you did, progress is easier to achieve.  If you don’t know what happened last time, or what state the piece is in, you could spin your wheels for quite a while just figuring out where you are.  And while it may feel good to just play something, it is a huge waste of time.  If you use your time well, you can learn twice as much music.

If I’m increasing the tempo, I write down metronome markings in my practice notebook (but not on the music).  While things are in such a state of flux, I’d rather not have all that writing on the score.  (And erasures wear out the paper.)

When I’ve worked on dynamics, I write that down.  How did it go?  What needs to improve?

Sometimes my impression of a composer’s intent will change, so I write that down, too.  That could change again in a day or two.

Trouble spots definitely make the notebook.  And then I make sure I concentrate on them until they’ve been solved.  Allowing portions of a piece to stay unlearned or remain uncomfortable is truly asking for trouble in performances.

Keeping written comments is the best way I’ve found to get all elements of a program together at the same time.  (It’s like cooking a large dinner, except there’s no backup such as a warming oven or a microwave!)  Having one piece or movement that I’ve ignored until the week before a concert makes me very uncomfortable.  (That happened exactly once.  I discovered on stage, of all places, that I had never put fingerings in a Haydn trio.  Oops.  I felt nervous just for that one reason.  A friend who was in the audience said she noticed, but that it was a good performance anyway…  and I trusted her not to lie to me.   And it will never happen again!)

On days when my practice time is limited, I often surf from one problematic spot to the next.  The next time, I do the same thing in reverse.  Why waste time practicing what you already play well?  You could be reinforcing unusual fingerings, making fast passages more comfortable, calibrating accelerandi and ritards, improving dynamic contrasts, playing the end of one movement and the beginning of the next, practicing intros and interludes in piano reductions or songs, or making a myriad of other effective choices.  What about the ending?  If it’s faster and louder, especially, I spend short periods of time getting it to be foolproof so I can be memorable in the concert.

A word of caution:  I have found that I often feel rushed when I have limited time.  So I play faster.  NOT helpful.  I have improved upon this tendency by being aware of it.  Now I frequently practice under tempo when there is too little time.  That increases my concentration and keeps mistakes from creeping in due to tension and anxiety.

And on those days when there is plenty of time, I revel in it.  Finally!  Time to “perform” an entire program!

How do you manage your practice time?  Please comment!

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Programming ~ thoughts on making choices Saturday, Dec 12 2009 

How do you go about choosing a program?  There are so many possibilities:  various types of concerts to be presented; far too much repertoire to perform in one program; a wide variety of audiences you will be performing to, for starters.

Types of Programs

Here are several I’ve thought of.  Identifying specifics helps make your path to finalizing a program as clear as possible.

  • Showcase ~ a debut, introducing yourself
  • Themed  ~ composer/violinists, for example
  • Comparative ~ same text set by different composers, perhaps
  • Lecture ~ the songs of Alban Berg, if they are the entire program, would require some explanatory speaking as well.  Or you could introduce new works in this way.
  • Children’s Concert
  • Anniversary Year ~ celebrating various composers

The first type would include music of several periods, and would be in chronological order, more or less.  A singer’s program would feature at least 3 or 4 languages.

Be aware that a themed program could become tedious ~ how many Spring songs would you want to hear in one concert?  I’d say 1/2 a program, at most, or perhaps one group.  Your theme can encompass a broader spectrum (add Summer!).

Chronological order is often not required.

The length of the program is an important factor.  If it’s a 1/2 hr. lunchtime  concert, how many groups will you have time for?  Are you planning to play one sonata?  Several shorter pieces?

What is your audience? Considering this will certainly guide your choices.  A reliable way to find this information is by speaking to the music director of the series.

If the person you speak to happens not to be a musician, you can still gain information.  When you suggest various composers, you will pick up cues.  If the person on the other end of the phone is hemming and hawing, maybe an extensive amount of that composer’s music won’t fly in that town.  But you could include one or two examples in your program.  If you announce your choices and provide a little background, your audience will likely be on your side.  (Because they’ve never heard it before does not mean they won’t like it.)

You would also be wise to look at the website for the concert series.  Programs from other concerts are often posted, or, if not, composers may be listed.  And if the performers’ websites are listed, you can learn a great deal by visiting them, too.

In all cases, show your strengths.  No one performs everything.  So program the composers you feel most comfortable with, the songs and arias that fit your voice, the styles you excel in.

Talk to audience members after you perform.  Find out what they liked best, what they noticed, and other aspects of their experience.  Feedback can be quite helpful for the next time.

And enjoy your concert!  The more programs you put together, the easier it becomes.  (Did I really say that?)

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Page turning Monday, Dec 7 2009 

Aimard Piano Promenade 003
Image by yan.da via Flickr

Last night I had a wonderful page turner!  If that were always the case, this post probably would not exist.

I also have a list or two.

Memorably Bad Page Turners

  • Jacksonville, FL ~ a society type, probably a board member, wearing a ton of perfume.  She turned well, but I couldn’t breathe!
  • The page turner who talked during the music.  How can you gauge balance when there is constant interference with the sound?
  • Somewhere in MN ~ the high school senior who was very nervous.  He turned relatively well, but when he wasn’t busy, cracked his knuckles out of rhythm.  I decided to try ignoring it rather than calling it to his attention.  Making him even more nervous would have been a disaster.
  • The engineering major at Yale who turned for a Met Regional competition ~ he didn’t read music, and was pretty terrible.
  • The nervous page turner who panics and turns too early.
  • The basket case whose hands are shaking, so the pages shake too!

The Best

  • A 14-year-old who was studying piano and clarinet, remained calm, watched for cues, followed instructions, and turned perfectly.
  • Last night’s page turner, who plays the piano and sings in the Boston Symphony Chorus.  Perfection!

Most Elaborate Situation

During the summer when I was a student at the Aspen Music Festival, the Juilliard Quartet had open rehearsals.  One such rehearsal included a quartet by Elliott Carter, for which the Juilliard played the premiere.  Playing from open score in manuscript, each player had marked in his score his designated page turns for the other players!  Each player then stood many times, crossed over to another player’s stand, turned the page, and returned to playing his part.

Most  Demanding Page Turning Gigs

  • I once turned for an organist who had four different ways he wanted his pages turned!  I listened politely to the system, then turned the way I normally do.  Along the way, I had to sing the violin solo for variations by Tartini many times so he could do the performance!
  • Turning for piano 4-hands is especially difficult.  When there is one score, and the page turner is located between the performers, the score is hard to reach.  In addition, how many pages can you watch at once?  Sometimes the page you’re watching ends in several bars rest, while the opposite page is busy with 16th notes.  Many more chances to turn randomly.

You Can Be More Comfortable

How do you go into a performance involving page turns?  Is the score in good condition?  It needs to lie flat, be stable (if the staples have come out, repair it), and have repeats, cuts, etc. clearly marked.

Unless you are making a recording (removing loose pages from the music rack is soundless), make a book or copy/tape pages together back to back.  Expecting a page turner to keep loose pages from falling on to the floor or flying out into the audience is really too much.

Do you meet with the page turner before the concert?  It’s much safer that way.  You can point out repeats and cuts.  I always ask if s/he would like to write something in the margin as a reminder.  If written reminders are in her/his own words/handwriting, it’s more likely they will be successful.

It’s OK to remind the page turner of a specific repeat or cut just before a particular piece is performed during the concert.  Often, you can just point to the spot in question, or whisper a couple of words.

Know Your Style

When you are aware of your preferences, the whole experience will go more smoothly.  Don’t make a page turner guess all the time.  When do you want the page turned?  Before you reach the end of the page?  After?  Just as you get there?  Do you want it turned from the top or the bottom?  Right or left side?  Page turner standing or not?

Consider Height

When the page turner is relatively tall (over 5′6″, say), I usually ask them to be on the left.  Shorter people can reach the score more easily from the right.

The stage setup is important, too.  Make sure you can see what you need to:  soloists, conductor, music.  Sometimes the piano will be on short stick toward a chorus, on the “wrong” side of the stage.  You might want the page turner to be on the side away from the audience.

What I Usually Ask

This is what I prefer.  Maybe this will help you think about how you want to handle these situations.

An arrival time of 1/2 hour before the concert seems to work well.  The page turn heads up can be relatively relaxed, and there are usually last-minute things going on.  You don’t want to be in a tense place during this time.

I ask the page turner to use a chair, most often to my left, and stand shortly before the page is turned.  A few bars before is plenty.  When they stand is relative to the tempo.

Turn from the top, arm above the score.  Turning from the bottom causes the page turner’s arm to block my view of the keyboard.

Use the hand that isn’t turning to hold fabric of a jacket or dress, jewelry, etc., out of the way.

Stand clear of the keyboard so I can get to the lowest notes w/my entire body.  If I feel cramped for space, I’ll either run into someone or miss notes.

If you get lost, don’t panic!  Llook directly at me, and I’ll give you a cue.  Then I demonstrate how I’ll nod my head, so there is no confusion.

Comment Heard Most Often

“You were so good, it was like you weren’t even there!”  There you go.  For a page turner, that’s a compliment!

It is preferable to turn one’s own pages, of course.  This is entirely possible when playing for voice recitals.  In other situations, it is often not.

The pianist Christopher O’Reilly uses the Air Turn system.  It looks wonderful.  I haven’t gone there yet, personally.

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