Guest post by Karine Hetherington


With, ‘Variations’, pianist Joanna Kacperek has chosen to focus on the humble variation. Like many other composers before them and since, Beethoven, Robert and Clara Schumann, Brahms and Chopin, composed many variations. On this album, Kacperek artfully displays the creative possibilities of these variations, which were a way of exploring a theme for these composers, often not their own, and taking it to the next sublime level.

Variations have also been the means by which one composer honoured another. Thus, we hear Robert Schumann’s little-known variations, based on a theme by Beethoven, in this case, Beethoven’s Symphony no.7 and more precisely the Allegretto movement. To hear Beethoven’s solemn theme being repeatedly played and tweaked and then transformed by Schumann, is a thrill and gives the much-loved Beethoven melody a new mesmeric quality.

Clara Schumann’s variations meanwhile, celebrate the rich relationship (musical and emotional) she enjoyed with her husband, Robert. These intimate variations reveal every facet of their emotional life; joy, pain, yearning, eventually unfolding into a marvellous resolution where gratitude seems the overriding emotion.

Impressed by Kacperek’s debut album, Karine Hetherington from ArtMuseLondon went to interview this breakthrough artist.

Had you always planned to have a musical career and become a professional pianist?

Actually, yes! I started my private piano lessons at the age of 6. From the age of 7 onwards, I was educated in state music schools in Poland that are quite strict and take your musical development very seriously. 

Of course all this wouldn’t’have happened without the support of my parents. 

What led you to the idea of doing an album of musical variations? What does it bring to the listener?

I really love the idea of taking something really simple, like a 16-bar theme, and developing it in any way possible; I find it really exciting from both a pianistic and musical point of view. In a way, it feels like pushing the boundaries – how far can we go? How creative and expressive can we be, starting with such simple musical material? 

The album started with my obsession with Clara Schumann’s Variations Op. 20 which she composed on her husband’s theme – I just knew this piece was special. The other thing that influenced this programming was my discovery of Robert Schumann’s Studies on a Theme by Beethoven – a composition that survived (thanks to Clara) and was not published during Robert’s life. It is such a tremendous set that deserves more spotlight! Then, I started adding other sets of variations that complemented the ones by the Schumanns – hence Beethoven Op. 34 (which links to Schumann-Beethoven Studies), and Brahms Op. 18b (the birthday present from Brahms to Clara Schumann). 

Because all of the works I have mentioned had a personal story behind them, I decided to add Dutilleux’s Choral and Variations from his Sonata Op. 1 – the piece dedicated to, and premiered by his wife, concert pianist Genevieve Joy. Then – Cecile Chaminade’s Thème varié Op. 89  – a little gem, so rarely performed and recorded (my recording is only the 4th in the world!) showcasing yet another brilliant pianist-composer; finally Chopin – which is not only a nod towards my Polish roots, but at the same time it links to Dutilleux and Chaminade through their Paris residency. 

Where are you performing next? What musical projects do you have in the pipeline?

2025 looks exciting. I have performances planned in France, Germany, the Netherlands, Poland, Ireland and of course in the UK. January will start with two performances in West London of Beethoven’s 3rd Piano Concerto with an incredible arrangement for a string quintet.

How do you relax?

Playing the piano can be a lonely profession, so to relax, I love being around people.I enjoy the gym and group fitness classes that involve cardio, boxing or dance. Apart from that – quiet evenings with my cat on my lap is also one of my favorite things. 

Joanna Kacperek’s album Variations is available on the Rubicon label and via streaming

joannakacperek.com


This article first appeared on The Cross-Eyed Pianist’s sister site ArtMuseLondon.com

(Artist photo by Paul Marc Mitchell)

Classical music is swathed in tradition and culturally conditioned thinking. The traditions of concert-going, for example, are well-known and show little sign of relaxing, despite the best efforts of more forward-thinking musicians, ensembles, concert managers and venues. Likewise, the score is regarded as the ‘sacred text’ of classical music wherein lies the composer’s ‘intentions’, and as such should be followed slavishly.

The musician’s training is still largely about preserving tradition and the reverential “canonization” of repertoire: for the pianist, the “greats” of our repertoire are of course Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and Chopin, and the teaching of this music is littered with “shoulds” and “musts” and curious, long-held notions of what is deemed “authentic” or “correct” in our interpretation and performance of this music. Classical musicians are taught that there is, in general, one ‘proper’ performance of the score which honours the composer’s ‘intentions’. Anyone who steps outside what is considered to be the “norm” may be castigated for going against tradition, a maverick lacking respect, or simply “wrong”. (Paradoxically, musicians are also encouraged to be creative and individual, to offer audiences something different or unique.)

But where do these notions of tradition come from?

In fact, many of the attitudes and practices of classical music as we know them today were established not that long ago, during the Romantic period, when musicologists, teachers and some musicians and composers decided it was time to formalise the artform to ensure it was treated with due respect, alongside some serious, quasi-religious composer-worship. It is no accident that the setting down of these “rules” about how music should be interpreted and performed coincided with the advent of recording which allowed audiences and musicians to hear the music in a definitive performance multiple times. Today, recordings have a highly significant role in the upholding of tradition in the interpretation and performance of classical music.

The weight of tradition can be stifling as musicians strive to conform to it. Enshrined in teaching and performance practice, and policed by teachers, critics, academics and even listeners, tradition can exert extraordinary pressure on musicians. It’s often safer to follow tradition, to do things as they have always been done, because stepping outside the norm, defying tradition, may not always be well received by audiences, critics or concert promoters, and may lead to loss of work.

But there’s the counter argument to this, that tradition can inspire and motivate, that it is, to quote Gustav Mahler, “not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire”, and that by honouring or respecting traditions we keep the artform alive. Thus, the musician is like a conservator or gardener, nurturing the wisdom of the ages while also building upon it to create our own wisdom and knowledge for those who come next. Teachers in particular can have a significant role in this, passing down the wisdom from an earlier generation of pedagogues to the next generation.

Tradition can be a learning and research tool too, exactly because it is born out of an accumulation of wisdom. Musicians can refer back to earlier performance practice, for example, and use this to inform their own playing. In fact, in the traditions of performance practice, for example, each generation brings a slight shift in attitude and approach: exploring early recordings demonstrates this very clearly where familiar works are often played with a far greater flexibility of interpretation than we are used to now. The danger comes from regarding tradition as an absolute, without the imagination or creativity to explore alternatives.

Every performance today is a translation; a reconstruction of the original sound is the most misleading translation because it pretends to be the original, while the significance of the old sounds has irrevocably changed – Charles Rosen

The sounds and after sounds of great music never cease evolving – Michael Davidson (Mozart and the Pianist)


 

Shameless begging bit:

This site is free to access and ad-free, and takes many hours to research, write, and maintain. If you find joy and value in what I do, why not

Guest post by Dakota Gale, the latest article in his series aimed at adult amateur pianists


Soon after I started piano lessons in 2021, my teacher showed me a clip from a Beethoven Sonata to demonstrate a technique. “Is this piece hard?” I asked? “It’s a Beethoven sonata!” he replied. 

The meaning was clear: they’re ALL hard.

Since then, I’ve listened to the entire series of 32 sonatas, which are a trip through Beethoven’s entire career. They’re simply fantastic.

In his autobiography, masterful pianist Andras Schiff says that he didn’t feel mature enough to learn them until he was well into his professional career. I’ve heard the sonatas called the Bible of music—The New Testament, as compared to Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier as The Old Testament. 

So it was with some trepidation, plenty of respect, and low expectations that I decided to step into the ring with Opus 14, No. 1 in E major, his 9th sonata. Sure, it’s a Grade 6 Henle, which I’ve played many times… but a) I haven’t played much classical era music b) it’s 13 pages of music c) it’s fast d) IT’S A BEETHOVEN SONATA.

In short, my expectation stepping into the ring: fast and furious blows to the body from this serious dude:

A quick doodle of Beethoven that I did.

Also, Opus 14 wasn’t my favorite sonata, but I liked it…and the others were technically out of reach at the moment. (Some, forever.) I prooobably should have started with Scarlatti or Haydyn, but just couldn’t motivate myself to learn a piece I wasn’t excited about.

Anyway, I just spent a month doing a first pass on all three movements and here’s my experience. May it help your attempts to learn this piece or others.

My approach to learning Beethoven’s Opus 14. No 1

Fear not, dear reader! I’m not so over-confident as to tackle a big task like a Beethoven sonata without a clear approach. I tried that with other pieces and wound up playing insecurely or poorly.

This time around, my approach was:

  1. Starting with the first movement, I did a basic analysis of structure and harmony, finding the main and secondary themes, development, and recapitulation.
  2. I identified the fast sections that I suspected would take the most time and discussed with my teacher to confirm. For me, those were bars 4-6 and 39-45, 50-56 and the fast arpeggios starting on bar 65 in the first movement. The second movement isn’t so bad, but the third movement is fast and the opening and fast runs halfway through the piece needed some solid hands separate practice.
  3. Using the techniques on memorization from The Fundamentals of Piano Practice, I memorized the entire sonata. It was the first time I’d taken such a dedicated approach and it worked wonders. I won’t go too deep with detail here, but I can’t recommend it enough! 

In short:

  1. I’d play through one bar of music with one hand, keeping the sections short enough that I could bring it up to speed quickly. Then I’d close my eyes and play through it in my head without touching the keyboard.
  2. Reinforce a time or two, perhaps singing the melody or harmony, then switch to the other hand. Repeat… move on to the next bar. Learn a few lines per day, reinforcing them the next day and moving on to other sections.
  3. Using this technique, I could play through the seven-page first movement hands together in my head the first week and the remaining six pages the second week. It felt like magic! (That book is so good.)
  1. At the same time, I practiced the fast sections I mentioned every day. Once I decided on fingerings, I kept the speed fast from the start. If I couldn’t play it at full speed with one hand, I decreased the length of the section. (ala Kenny Werner’s great book, Effortless Mastery.)

  2. After three weeks, with hands separate I could play the entire sonata (movement 1-3) at tempo, so I started putting hands together. The usual brain breaking occurred and I had to slow down to 50-75% tempo, but I trusted the process.
  3. Another two weeks and movements 1 & 2 were close to tempo, with some notable spots where building speed will take time (those fast LH arpeggios in bars 65-75 with octaves in the RH feel like careening madly along without brakes!). Movement 3 is fast and playing at tempo will take another round of revision.
  4. My progress had slowed, not to mention my drive, another indication it was time to set the piece aside for a few weeks and let it rest. Onward! (For me, that meant polishing Chopin’s Opus 9. No 1 for a masterclass.)

At this point, I felt elated that I could do ANYthing with this sonata that had seemed like hopping in the ring against Mike Tyson. I’d survived!  Was it to performance standards? Absolutely not! Did I expect that? Nooope.

Also, was I sick of the sonata? Ohhh yeah, it was time for a break and some lighter fare. I gobbled up a Yann Tiersen piece from his wonderful album EUSA and waded into Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude so I could entertain annoy my wife with the booming middle section. 

Overall, I’m both pleased and surprised how well the piece went. Even better, I grew to enjoy the piece’s nuances and wound up liking it much more than when I started learning it. I also picked up new skills, including:

  1. Better memorizing techniques.
  2. Smoother fast LH arpeggios and Alberti bass technique.
  3. Better staccato playing.
  4. Better multiple voice playing via the fugue-y section. 
  5. Better grasp of how new themes vary, develop and morph.

I definitely expected a much longer process. Luckily, I’m an amateur pianist and don’t need to nail down a piece to perform at a set time. I play for myself and for friends/family. 

As with any difficult piece, my primary goal for round 1 was simply to get the piece into my fingers and brain. The artistry and expression happen during later revision. In fact, as annoying as it is, I’ve found it’s often at least a year before I feel confident performing a piece live! Perhaps you’ve experienced this as well? 

Regardless, I survived my first round with a full Beethoven sonata and hope to play many more of his pieces in the future. Opus 26 beckons with its siren song of variations!


When he isn’t playing piano, Dakota Gale enjoys learning languages (especially Italian) and drawing. He also writes about reclaiming creativity as an adult and ditching tired personal paradigms in his newsletter, Traipsing About. He can often be spotted camping and exploring mountain bike trails around the Pacific Northwest.

HANDEL’S MESSIAH

The Echoing Air and Music for Awile

Thursday 19 December at 6pm at St Mary’s church, Bruton, Somerset

A rare intimate chamber performance of Handel’s great work, ‘Messiah’, featuring world-class musicians.

The Echoing Air, a vocal ensemble of eight singers will sing both the choruses and solos, accompanied by the instrumental ensemble Music for Awhile, a quartet of baroque string players, led by Margaret Faultless, a harpsichordist and a trumpeter. This is an abridged performance of Messiah, with significant cuts, but including the famous ‘Hallelujah’ chorus. Running time approx. 1.5 hours.

Performers: Amy Carson (soprano), Timothy Dickinson (bass-baritone), Frederick Long (bass-baritone), Emily Vine (soprano), Rebecca Leggett (mezzo-soprano), Edmund Hastings (tenor), David de Winter (tenor), Margaret Faultless (violin), Rachel Stroud (violin), Francesca Gilbert (viola), Jonathan Rees (cello), Katie Lodge (trumpet), Oliver John Ruthven (continuo).

This performance follows popular performances by The Echoing Air at Wyke House in Somerset, and at St Mary’s church, Bruton.

Praise for The Echoing Air (audience comments from previous performances)

‘Really great performance and we couldn’t have enjoyed it more.’

‘I came to the Messiah concert in Bruton. Absolutely superb! I have never heard it sung with such meaning or passion.’

‘Absolutely brilliant performance….such a high standard.’

‘Superb. The chamber music atmosphere made one really engage with the music. The standard of the players was amazing and the whole performance was totally engaging. I found it both emotional and hugely enjoyable.’

‘It was a huge privilege to attend a performance of The Messiah. An extraordinary experience.’

Thursday 19 December 2024, 6pm (doors 5.30pm)

Tickets £12.50 in advance/£15 on the door

Booking link: https://www.ticketsource.co.uk/theechoingair/handels-messiah/e-dqyjgq