By |

Over on Twitter this week this government advert on a skills and training website started doing the rounds:

Musicians, and others who work in the arts, are, justifiably, feeling extremely anxious, undervalued and largely ignored by government at a time when the arts sector in general is in a perilous position due to the UK government’s response to the coronavirus pandemic (and yes, it is government response which has caused the current situation, not the virus: viruses don’t make policy.).

This insensitive, ill-thought advert, which actually originates from 2019, comes just a week after Chancellor Rishi Sunak inferred that working in the arts is not “viable” (for which read: “not a proper job”, thus ignoring the huge contribution the arts makes to the UK economy). He later attemped to clarify what he had actually said by offering some emollient words to theose who work in the arts – and Oliver Dowden, the Culture Secretary (who reminds me of Blinky Ben from tv political comedy The Thick of It) apologised for the “crass” advert. I note that this advert, together with others of the same style, have now all been pulled from the website in question.

Ever since I became more involved with the UK classical music scene, via this blog and my work with professional musicians, I have sensed an attitude that persists in the UK in particular that working in the arts is some kind of “hobby job”, rather than a “proper” profession. I think this comes, in part, from the perception that many of us who work in the arts love what we do, and thus we are not “serious” about our work.

This couldn’t be further from the truth. The many musicians I know, as friends and colleagues, and others who work in the industry, are incredibly committed, serious and, above all, professional people; that we enjoy our work is a bonus, but it does not mean that our work is not viable, nor has value.

The trouble is, for those outside the profession and, it would seem, politicians, creative people like musicians or artists or writers don’t always display outward productivity – the fruits of their labours may not be immediately visible and as a result there is a societal attitude which suggests these people are “lazy”, “unproductive”, or “don’t contribute to society”.

So to counter the suggestion that we are not viable, that we need to “reskill”, here are just some of the very important skills which musicians possess:

Well-organised

Self-starting

Self-motivated

Self-determined

Good time-managers

Adaptable

Flexible

Collaborative

Team players

Hard-working

Resilient

Mental toughness

Physically dextrous with fine and large motor skills

Highly developed memorisation skills

Able to take initiative

Thinking creatively/thinking on their feet

Goal setting/achieving

Used to working to very high standards

Able to cope with stress

Imaginative

Persevering

Determined

Empathetic

Good listeners

Able to cope with failure/setbacks

Diligent

Patient

Able to concentrate for long periods of time

Detail-oriented

Intuitive

Analytical

Entrepreneurial

Pattern recognition skills

Lateral thinking

And let’s not forget all the others in the creative industries:

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, please consider making a donation to support the continuance of this site

Make A Donation

By |

Good Night! – Bertrand Chamayou, piano (Erato/Warner Classics)

Don’t listen to this album if you’ve got work to do or a project to complete. This captivating, engrossing album of lullabies, or berceuses, will make you want to ease back in your chair, or retreat to somewhere more comfortable – perhaps a chaise longue, or even your bed. Turn the lights low and allow pianist Bertrand Chamayou’s exquisite, expressive soundworld to envelope you (the album is recorded in Dolby Atmos immersive sound which is at once intimate and vivid).

For Chamayou, a self-confessed night owl who resists the calls of Morpheus and relishes the tension between the awake and almost-but-not-quite asleep states, the lullaby’s “place is halfway between dream and reality”, a curious borderland of the most varied emotions, from tenderness to fear (fear of the dark, fear of nightmares), delight to anguish when night thoughts can overwhelm and give little chance of rest. The lullaby is also representative of the special bond between babies and children and their parents and carers, who provide comfort and reassurance.

The inspiration behind this album was in part due to Chamayou recently becoming a father himself, taking on the roles of “tucker-up and comforter”. The piano repertoire contains some of the most beautiful examples in the genre, from the rocking bass line and delicate filigree figurations of Chopin’s Berceuse to Brahms’s ever-popular Wiegenlied (Cradle Song). But Chamayou also reveals some lesser-known lullabies by Lyapunov, Mel Bonis and Martinů. Nor is the night-time landscape always calm and restful: A probezinha (‘poor little waif’)from Villa-Lobos’ ‘Prole de bebê’ is tinged with melancholy; Busoni’s Berceuse is dark and hallucinatory, for which Chamayou creates an almost impressionistic wash of sound and colour, and Balakirev’s has a nightmarish funeral march at its centre; even Grieg’s Berceuse from Lyric Pieces Book 2, has an unsettling middle section; meanwhile, the spiky, tinkling notes of Lachenmann’s Wiegenmusik hint at the nighttime fears provoked by shadows dancing on the bedroom wall. But serenity is restored by Brahm’s famous lullaby which follows it. In Chamayou’s hands it is as warm and comforting as a mother’s embrace, enhanced by the Dolby Atmos sound which creates an enveloping resonance.

The album title comes from the first track ‘Good Night!’ from Janacek’s suite On An Overgrown Pat’, a piano miniature in which the briefest of ideas is obssessed over to produce music freighted with a poignant tenderness. Meanwhile, Bryce Dessner’s ‘Song For Octave’, written for his own son, has a hynoptic ostinato redolent of Pärt’s Spiegel im Spiegel and a haunting minimalist melody. Chamayou’s transparent sound here is utterly spellbinding (and it’s a piece I wanted to learn myself the moment I heard it).

At the risk of sounding a little trite, each work on this bewitching disc is lovingly played, Chamayou finding much beauty and elegance in simple lyrical melodies and gossamer figurations. His tempos are sensitive and supple, with an insouciant rubato which never feels contrived, and he convincingly portrays the individual character of each piece with clarity, wit and imagination.

We live in noisy, anxious times and this charming album offers much-needed respite and a balm to the soul

Recommended

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, please consider making a donation to support the continuance of this site

Make A Donation

By |

Guest post by Pierre Tran

This article is also available in French – click here to download and read

Unlike Lang Lang, I didn’t study the Goldberg Variations by J.S. Bach at the age of ten. On the contrary, despite being inspired by Glenn Gould in my teens, I only got into this masterpiece step by step before feeling able to embrace it as a whole, in all of its subtle dimensions, only a few years ago. As a piano teacher, I have been teaching several chosen pieces to some students who are overwhelmingly eager for advice, knowing that the Goldberg Variations is daunting and, reputedly, unplayable. As an example, I encountered a remark from a piano teacher who said to me that she can only sight-read it at best, but a thorough understanding is far beyond her reach.

So, my initial idea was to publish an edition which could help advanced learners get rid of the fear of this piece by incorporating ergonomic fingerings throughout, placing special attention on hand-crossings, and advice on how to play the ornaments, which is a critical issue, as everyone knows. Fingerings offered in this edition are not only based on a new approach to the art of piano fingering in general; such knowledge is also linked to Scaramuzza’s school of piano playing, first located in Argentina, and nowadays recognised by very few teachers around the world, but also, in particular, drawn from my own experience garnered over forty years as a piano teacher.

Urtext editions available to the public are not of any help regarding the character of each individual piece, unless one carries out additional historical and musicological research, which is what I did. There are many disputes among scholars regarding this issue. I put forward my own and unique understanding, supported by Jörg Ewald Dähler’s published works, and I also draw resources from several established musicologists, such as Peter Williams, for example. I also refer to musicians like Angela Hewitt, but my main input, apart from Glenn Gould himself, is Alfredo Casella, who published a pioneering, more or less historically-informed edition of the Well-Tempered Clavier in 1946.

Czerny, and later Busoni in 1918, tried to unravel the mystery of Bach’s profound and complex musical thoughts. However, their work is questionable in several historical aspects, and not fully reliable due to many dynamics or tempi markings which are not genuine. So, my second idea was to stick to the original score whilst phrasing it, but in such way that we come closer to an overall and comprehensive view of the Goldberg Variations, while carefully avoiding any other marks (dynamics, tempi, pedalling) which can be left to one’s will. This intention is enhanced by a beautiful and refined layout which makes the music much easier to read than any Urtext version available.

This work is nothing other than a blend between intimate musical intuitions, which require a spiritual approach to life, and historical facts, along with musicological discoveries, some of which are not widely distributed. Furthermore, Bach’s language is universal and can fit other cultural backgrounds, such as oriental ones. Thanks to my Chinese heritage, I feel close to Zhu Xiao-Mei, whose Buddhist-like rendition of the Goldberg is splendid, having myself introduced some Taoist principles into my work. In other words, this work is personal and also suprapersonal, eventually generating these two burning questions: ‘Is there a secret buried in the organic structure of each piece which has so far not yet been entirely discovered, one to which access can be gained only at the piano? If so, what is its nature?’

I have attempted to answer these questions by means which are simple, and yet powerful: innovative fingering, phrasing that is at once inspirational and revelatory, and a cantabile, never percussive touch – though, admittedly this last area is more intuitive than explicit.

Finally, such an edition should take into account musical insights from a wide range of famous pianist – from Rosalyn Tureck to Evgeni Koroliov, not forgetting András Schiff or Murray Perahia, for example, I spent a lot of time listening to a hundred of these individual and outstanding interpretations in order to draw a summary which is faithful and can be transposed into musical ideas, understandable by many. To widen my knowledge, I also felt it was instructive to listen to harpsichordists (Gustav Leonhardt and Andreas Staier, for example), or to organ players. However, like András Schiff, I do not like transcriptions, except for the version for string trio by Dmitry Sitkovetsky, who claimed to be inspired by Glenn Gould.

Along with this revised and fingered score, I have written commentaries, one per variation, thirty two in total, as a natural development of an in-depth presentation where I not only challenge the myth surrounding the composition itself, but I also explore the question of ‘which piano make is the most suitable for recording the Goldberg Variations, if there is one?’

These commentaries finally open a window to a more philosophical vision of the Goldberg Variations, religion aside. There are many ways of organising these pieces according to scholars. I tried to highlight some of them, the most accurate ones which are probably the least discernible because they are linked to a hidden cosmic order, but without constraining anyone to adhere to such ideas. My main goal is to make these variations technically more playable, so one’s mind is free to explore one’s deep inner feelings which ultimately lead to a meditative journey, and a life-changing experience.

Pierre Tran’s new edition of the Goldberg Variations is designed for both teachers and performers alike, and is based on history, musicology, and the art of interpretation by the greatest pianists in history. Fingering and phrasing, in-depth commentaries on each variation and pedagogical advice, in English and French.

Further information/order a copy

Pierre Tran, a pianist and teacher for the last 40 years, comes from an industrial family of Chinese origin, which had relocated to Madagascar. Following secondary school in Paris, his university studies led to a degree in Architecture which he obtained in 1981. It is to his aunt that he owes his passion for music and also the desire to teach, she herself was a school teacher in China after a career as a business woman.

In 1979 he met his piano master, Thibaut Sanrame (192-2001) who was a disciple of Scaramuzza. Thanks to this professor,for the next 10 years, he developed an artistic and scientific approach which he applies to music in order to reveal its secrets. Owing to this experience he began teaching piano at a young age.

For many years he founded his search for musical beauty on the principles of Scaramuzza’s school, following the genius of the creator.

His personal journey led him to India for 10 years where his conception of music took on a spiritual dimension.

Since his return to Europe, via France and the UK, Pierre has run a piano learning centre, a laboratory of research. His students come from over the world to benefit from the methods which he loves to share. His knowledge is multidisciplinary, and always founded on a synthetic vision. This includes piano construction and tuning, as he is interested in the relationship between the artist and technician.

His work on the Goldberg Variations is the follow up to an essay which he published in 2009.

By |

Guest article by Karine Hetherington

Vladimir Horowitz is probably the most famous concert pianist of all time. Wherever he performed, he drew legions of fans right up to his death in 1989. Audiences flocked to see the supernatural energy he brought to Chopin, Liszt, Brahms and other favourites from the romantic repertoire. There is no doubt, he was both virtuoso artist and a fascinating, idiosyncratic performer. Much has been said about his unusual flat-fingered technique which purists found vulgar.

Viewing some old footage of Horowitz, I was struck by how Jekyl and Hyde he appears on camera. Charming and charismatic, he nevertheless appears haunted by sadness.

Lea Singer, author of  ‘The Piano Student’, based on Horowitz’s secret life, had the novelist’s nose for the hidden story.

She was lucky enough to gain access to to Horowitz’s correspondence with a certain Nico Kaufmann. Kaufmann was Horowitz’s piano student, soon to become his lover in 1937. The secret letters have never been published and are to be found at Zurich’s Zentralbibliotek. Up until his death, Horowitz remained married to Wanda Toscanini (daughter to the famous and very influential conductor, Arturo Toscanini).

This is an unusual book which at first reads like a dark detective novel of the sort Swiss writer Friedrich Dürrenmatt might have written. A man walks away from his planned suicide. The agents, who were supposed to assist him, turn up to an empty house. The man has already fled and the reader sees him turning up at a bar where a remarkable pianist is playing.

Slowly, maddeningly slowly at first, in a bizarre, convoluted dialogue, the pianist, Nico Kaufmann, reveals his life to the stranger. The first few chapters were a tad far-fetched. We want suspense but frankly I was a little lost. An absence of speech marks, standard practice in European novels (this book was originally written in German) may have slowed me down a little.

Thankfully I grew accustomed to the style and notation. It was a good thing, as Lea Singer’s research translates into a riveting tale. 

Kaufmann takes the stranger (thereafter known as Doneti) on a journey into his past. The pair visit grand faded hotels, bars, lakeside houses around Zurich and Lucerne. In this twilight world Kaufmann’s memories of Horowitz surface in Proustian fashion. Of his piano lessons as a young man. His first kiss with his teacher. A powerful image remains with me of pale-bodied Horowitz, in his early thirties, lying next to the young Kaufmann in the hotel room. Their naked bodies are outstretched on the bed and are barely touching.

Not over sentimentalised, this is a moving book, filled with tension and tragedy. We see Horowitz, warts and all. We see his rages, his professional perfectionism and his bouts of depression. The younger Kaufmann is loved, hated and controlled by the older lover. With the urgency of war approaching adding to the suspense, this makes this a fascinating read.

Recommended if you, like me, relish knowing more about the legendary Horowitz, all be it through the imagination of an author who has researched the subject well.

In the confessional nature of the dialogue, this might make a good play. 

‘The Piano Student’ by Lea Singer is published by newvesselpress.com on October 6 2020.

Karine Hetherington is a teacher, writer and reviewer who lives in London. A dual-British and French national, with a Russian ancestry thrown in, her short stories and novels reflect her passion for both the detail and grand sweep of European history. After studying creative writing at Birkbeck College in London, Karine has been telling stories that have brought history to life, with tales of love and adventure that draw on the detail of real events and real lives. Her two published novels, The Poet and the Hypotenuse, and Fort Girard, are set in France in the 1930s and 1940s. Karine is also a reviewer for The Cross-Eyed Pianist’s sister site, ArtMuseLondon.

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, please consider making a donation to support the continuance of this site

Make A Donation