Skip to main content

From the Blog Archives

 I was looking through my old blog and found this piano post from something like 2006. It was titled "Dance of the Nail-bitten Digits: A Ramble and an Analogy." I was working on Liszt's transcription of Schubert's Ständchen at the time--a beautiful piece that I've (sadly) forgotten. I'd also forgotten about the analogy at the end of this post, so I'm posting it again here.

Dance of the Nail-bitten Digits: A Ramble and an Analogy (2006)

I am loving Liszt. I love the way my hands have to "share" the melody in "Standchen." 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 the 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, learning Sections 1 through 8), is sounding really good.

I'm so eager for tomorrow to get here so I can practice some more.

It is so nice not to be nail-gnawingly stressed. I'm still very tired and not sleeping like a pro, but I'm so much better than I was a week ago.

People can say what they want about how classical pianists are snobs and that playing pop music or New Age arpeggiated mood music or even just improvising is just as good as playing pieces from the classical repertoire ... but there is no experience like playing Liszt. Or Bach. Nothing compares. There is nothing like working, working, and working to get each little nuance perfect, and then being able to play it. Nothing in the world.

I'm not at the point at which I can play any of it at tempo. But that time will come.

Analogy o' Day: Imagine you have a huge present underneath the Christmas tree, or on your birthday-present table, or wherever. It's something you really want. It's wrapped, maybe even double- or triple- or quadruple-wrapped.

Now for the analogy o' day. The "present" is the ability to play the piece well, with all of your mind, heart, body, soul, everything. The "wrapping" refers to each practice session. Each session is a tearing away of a piece of wrapping. Imagine going, day after day after day, to tear off just a small shred of paper. You get a little closer to the actual present each time. Sometimes you tear a lot of paper, and sometimes you just get a tiny bit. Still, you know that someday, someday, you'll finally get through to the gift inside. I'm looking forward to my practice sessions more than ever these days because the gift inside is getting more and more attainable.

And it is a gift.

Life is good.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

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 ...
Post a Comment
Read more

March Goals Recap/Looking Ahead to April

It's April 1, and time to revisit the goals I set for last month. I practiced a total of 50.45 hours in March, averaging 1.62 hours (or just over an hour and a half) per day. Realistically, I practice about 45 minutes to an hour a day on weekdays, and I usually get at least one longer practice (or multiple shorter practices) in on one or both days of the weekend to bring the average up. CLASSICAL GOALS Chopin, F Minor Nocturne March Goal: Have entire piece by memory and performance-ready. I have about 90% of the piece by memory, but I still have some work to do before it's performance-ready. The only two sections that I don't quite have are "The Agitation" and the "stretto" section with the seventh chords. I'll work on both this week and will have them both memorized before the weekend. April Goal: Finish memorizing, and polish, polish, polish! My focus now is really on phrasing and dynamics. I have the notes down, even in the difficult passages. Fro...
Post a Comment
Read more

Feb. 9 Practice

My February 9 practice was short and sweet. I worked only on the Liszt, playing in rhythms. Do you know how hard it is to play a piece in rhythms when the LH is even and the RH is all over the place, with 2-against-3 and later with 4-against-9? Don't worry--I'm not trying to be impeccably exact when I'm doing rhythms. And I've discovered what a *rut* I've gotten into with the Liszt. It's so beautiful, and part of me is content just to play it through, again and again, and be done with it. But rhythms are forcing me to look at the seamy underside, at the 0's and 1's that make this piece what it is. And it's not an altogether pleasant experience. But it's waking me up. The beauty of this piece has lulled me into a sort of sleepy complacency when I play it. I think that's why Deborah said not to play the piece through a single time this week. It is so tempting to just play it through and listen to the beautiful music. But when I do that, I'm...
4 comments
Read more