I have been playing the piano since I was a little girl and now that I am entering the eighth decade of my life, I am still practicing and happy to say, enjoying it so much more! That’s a long time spent sitting at the piano, but what a blessing is has been for me!
My very first piano teacher reminded me of a drill sergeant with his stern uncompromising approach. Now looking through the scores we studied together, I see his writing, always in big bold letters, “drill, drill 100X a measure.” That’s definitely not the way I practice now. I’ll admit that his method might have helped develop strong finger technique, focusing primarily on a near note-perfect performance, but it definitely wasn’t much fun! There was never much talk about the music or the joy of playing the piano.
Now I have much more fun sitting at the piano. That process of digging deeper and uncovering each layer before going on to the next has become my daily journey of discovery and a distinct pleasure. I am not aiming for a note-perfect performance—that is never the point. What I am always trying to do is to get closer to the composer’s intentions, to understand his language and to speak it as naturally as possible so that it is easily understood and that it connects and reaches something deep inside the heart— not only my heart but the listener’s as well.
I love the discovery process--figuring out how the work is put together. What is the structure and where is the dramatic climax? Where is the journey taking me emotionally and spiritually? My goal is to make the music sound as natural and as fresh as possible as if the composer himself had just sat down at the piano and played it for me for the first time.
Of course, with my dead composer friends of the nineteenth and twentieth century, I can only imagine what they themselves might have done. What I hear in my head doesn’t come from nowhere; it comes from a familiarity with their music and not only with their piano music. It’s about knowing their compositional style, their particular way of phrasing. For me, this becomes an editing process at the piano—understanding what will work or what doesn’t and evaluating what I am consciously doing at the instrument. Always experimenting and using my musical intuition, the process never remains the same, never stagnant— always changing as new ideas and possibilities keep entering into the mix.
At the moment I am preparing Beethoven sonatas for recording and working on the ones I have never learned as a student. This is a composer who never makes it easy for the pianist. He challenges us on so many levels--technically, intellectually, emotionally, physically. He’s been my lifeline during trying times. When I am working on one of his sonatas, I can shut out the world and forget about the problems of everyday life. And all I need is the time to keep going deeper.
There’s a wonderful quote from the French writer Balzac who said, “Time is the sole capital for people whose future depends on their talent.”
How right he was! All of us need the time to focus and to concentrate, to get rid of the daily chatter, and to keep digging, to keep trying to get closer to that divine source.
And as all of us know, there never is enough time in our lives, is there!!