Skip to main content

The Tracks of My Chopin

It has been a lovely morning. I woke up, did some writing, listened to some Horowitz, listened to Rubinstein playing my Nocturne, and then played for a few minutes myself, all before waking up the kid and getting her off to school.

Considering how little I've played in the past few weeks, and particularly how little I've played in the past 10 years, Op. 9 No. 1 is not sounding too bad. My new teacher may have  different opinion, but for now, I'm going with my own judgment. I feel like I don't have too far to go to get this into "recital" shape.

What's left?

  • Memorize. I have a lot of it by muscle memory, but I haven't actively worked on memorizing it.
  • Analyze. As a composer wanna-be, I want to look at every single unit of this piece and understand what makes each one what it is. This probably isn't a necessary step, but it's something I want to do.
  • Learn the notes. Ha ha. OK, so I already know the notes, but there are just a few areas where I'm stumbling. Here is the biggie:


This starts at about 4:13 in the Rubinstein recording linked above. I have the notes, and it's easy as pie to play this hands-separately. But put 'em together? My brain goes haywire.

Once upon a time, I could play this. So I know I have it in me. The tracks have been laid down in my brain somewhere. I just need to find them, or possibly re-lay them.

There are two other similar measures, but both of them are simpler. The second one isn't bad at all, just a series of 2-against-3. The first one, right at the beginning of the piece, is more challenging. I can play it, but I would like for it to be smoother.

As for the rest of the piece ... I have the notes, but I don't have the confidence of having the notes. That confidence will come with practice and memorization and probably those fun little analysis sessions I want to have. And as I gain more confidence, I'll be able to play with expression more consistently.

So maybe I have a longer way to go on this piece than I thought.

I should have three delicious hours for practicing tomorrow night. I'll spend some of that time on voice, but I'm also planning to spend a good chunk of it on this piece right here. I don't start my lessons for another week and a half, so I'm really not sure what to practice ... so I'm focusing on this one for now.

If you are really bored and read old posts from this blog and my A Sort of Notebook blog, you'll see that this piece has been with me a long time. Whenever I start dabbling in piano again, I come back to it. I've never totally lost it, but each time I've come back, I've been acutely aware that I have work to do if I want to get it back into recital shape. In years past, I haven't had the time or the energy to do that work. Now I do. (Not really. But it made for a nice concluding sentence.)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Rusty Lock and Key

I'm in a room. There's a door in front of me. On the other side of that door is a whole world of adventure and imagination and joy and delight, but for the moment, I'm locked in this gray little room. The door itself has a lock that is all rusted. I've tried to open it in the past, but I've never gotten very far. Sometimes I try to scrape the rust off the lock. I also have a rusty old key that I occasionally try to polish. Each time, after I've made a little progress, I'll put it into the keyhole in hopes of opening the door. It turns a half a millimeter or so, but the brief excitement at my progress dies quickly when I realize, once again, the lock isn't opening. I set the old key aside, and from there I can forget about the door, the lock, and the world outside, for months—years, even. But then something happens—I hear birdsong, or I catch a glimpse of color—and I pick up the key and start picking away at the stubborn rust. That dark little room is my ...

Dance of the Digits

Note: I've expanded significantly on this post over at my other blog, A Sort of Notebook . I am loving Liszt. I love the way my hands have to "share" the melody. I have so much to write on that, but I'm borrowing a computer and don't have enough time to do it justice. Suffice it to say that I've practiced three and a half wonderful hours today, and about two hours on Liszt alone. What I find wonderful about Liszt is that it pushes one hand hard, but not too hard. Then the other hand gets a turn to be pushed. But it's never both at the same time, and never one hand for too long. It's hard to explain. When I have more time to write, I'll word things rather more eloquently, I'm sure. All I can say now is that my fingers feel like they're dancing a wonderful, graceful dance. I've been trying to "play with my body," as my piano teacher says to do, so all of me is dancing. And Standchen, though it still need a lot of work (like, um...

The Amazing Practice Tracker 2.0: Leveling Up My Piano Game

(Apologies for the cheesy clip art. I needed to come up with something, or the Blogger template would show a fuzzy, overly-enlarged snippet of the first chart below.) When I showed my husband my piano practice tracker, he said I should market and sell it. Ha. It’s not for sale, but I’m excited to share how this tool has transformed my practice—and why it might inspire all three of my readers. Since my last post about the Amazing Practice Tracker, I’ve made it even better. Here’s a peek at how it works, using my June data. All The Pretty Colors, All the Pretty Winners My tracker now sparkles with color: darker shades for active pieces, lighter ones for maintenance, technique, and sight-reading. Each day, the piece I practice most gets a bright yellow highlight—a little “gold medal,” if you will. (Click image for a slightly larger view.) A leaderboard automatically shows the day’s top piece and time. And if that isn't enough, I keep track of the month's leaders--specifically, ho...