Skip to main content

Memorizing is Mesmerizing

I have had the hardest time memorizing songs for my voice lessons. I work at it and I practice, but the practice sessions aren't as focused as I'd like them to be, and it seems that the weekly voice lessons come and go, and the words still aren't there.

Piano is another story. At least when I took from Deborah, memorizing wasn't too much of a stretch because I practiced so intently. At the same time, she didn't require memorization, so I never quite jumped out of the nest with any of my pieces. So did I ever memorize them?

Kind of? Maybe?

I'll never know. So in my rediscovery of the B-flat minor nocturne, I've decided that I want to do two things I'd never seriously focused on before: analysis and memory. The two go hand-in-hand, so it seemed a worthy way to spend some time this afternoon while Anne played with the neighbor kids outside.

My Schirmer edition of the nocturne is the one I learned with, so it's all marked up with fingerings and comments. I had this Alfred edition that I've never used, so it became my "analysis copy." I started by simply labeling the chords.


Quite a few of the chords were simple, as in the very beginning of the piece: B-flat minor to F7, back and forth. It gets more complicated and interesting later on, of course.

I feel a little silly that I waited so long to do this analysis. I noticed a couple of things right off the bat that I'd never even thought about before:
  • How changing from the minor to the relative major feels like a sunrise
  • How, after making that change, going from the I to the IV of the relative major feels like the warmth of the sun coming from behind a cloud on a too-cold day
I'm sure that is the oldest trick in the book, but it's new to me, and I made stuff up for a good half hour, just noodling from minor to relative major and back again.

The other thing I thought about was diminished seventh chords and how their instability can lead you anywhere. My music theory knowledge is limited, but I do remember learning this at some point. I just never applied it, or even thought about it beyond the classroom setting. It was "theory" and for too much of my life, "theory" had been a separate thing from the experience of making music. For a long time, I just wanted to play. I didn't want to be analytical about it.

I know, I know. It's dumb. I have a lot to make up for. 

Once I'd thought about and labeled the chords in the first section, I worked on memorizing. As you might expect, having the chords written down, and now having the ability to think about the direction the music was going, made memorization so much easier. I played at a snail's pace, too, to help ensure that I wasn't just relying on muscle memory.

Somehow, two hours went by as I analyzed and memorized. When Anne came in with the neighbor to see if they could go get ice cream, I felt almost irritable, like I'd just been pulled out of a deep sleep. But we ended up going to Chick-Fil-A for a late lunch and ice cream, and then to the playground, and then to Rack Room to get Anne some new shoes, and it was a fun afternoon with the kids.

When I got home, I sat down to play the few pages I'd memorized earlier, and ... yep. It was still there. I played it slowly, and it was still there. This may be the first time I've actually memorized those pages. Really memorized them. Hopefully I'll never lose them again.

The goal for tomorrow afternoon is to memorize the third main section, and probably the fourth (which is mostly a repeat of the first, except for the ending). The goal for the rest of my life is to play the hell out of this nocturne so that I'm still playing it at age 90 in the nursing home ...whether the rest of my mental faculties are there or not!

I also need to practice voice tomorrow. I wish analyzing the chord progressions would help me memorize the words, but I don't think it works that way ...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Rethinking Bare Necessities

Today's breakthrough moment (there are actually two of them) focuses on "Bare Necessities." As you'll remember, I discovered Jonny May's arrangement back in early March and immediately decided to learn it. I printed out the music, started the course, and proceeded to learn the stride section, posting a few videos of my progress. Ha. I bet those videos make it look like I was making progress. I guess I was ... but not really. And I realized something this weekend that I hadn't before: Because I was thinking of "Bare Necessities" as a "fun" piece, I wasn't practicing it seriously or diligently. I wasn't treating it as something I wanted to master. This mindset might work with an easier piece, but this arrangement isn't easy. The result: despite a little progress at the outset, I wasn't moving forward. I was stalled. Breakthrough #1 The first breakthrough was realizing that if I truly want to learn this piece and play it well,

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, it's not going to open the lock. 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 ro

Maple Leaf Rag Breakthrough

Oh, Maple Leaf. Where to begin? At the Beginning I think I’ve mentioned this before, but I learned the A and B sections of Maple Leaf Rag back in the 1990s. I can’t tell you if it was early, mid- or late 90s, but it was during those 10 years after I’d graduated college, when I was playing a good bit of piano but not taking regular lessons from anyone. I don’t remember teaching it to myself at all. I just know that, at some point, the first half of Maple Leaf Rag was part of my two- or three-song repertoire of pieces I’d be able to play by memory over the next 25 years. It was always sloppy and I knew it, but people loved it, and so I played it if there was ever a piano around. Back in January, I decided to properly re-learn those two sections, and to finally learn the C and D sections of this wonderful piece. I worked on these over the next month or two, learning (and-relearning) the notes pretty quickly ... but it took time to memorize, and also to get everything to tempo surpassing a