A Transcription of a movement from Rachmaninoff's 2nd Symphony.
Then the Real Thing.
And if that wasn't enough Romanticism, I'm watching bits and pieces of Love Actually, courtesy of a recommendation by Mr. Leigh.
=3 Poor thing. ;)
This baby.
Here's a quote:
Where did you meet your love, young man?
Where did you meet your love?
'I met my love in a noisy room
With a carven roof above.'
What did you say to your love, young man,
With all your mother wit?
'"How hot it is!" or "How do you do?"
And there was an end of it!'
Who was beside you then, young man?
Who was beside you then?
'Gaspar, Melchior, Balthazar,
And a crowd of shepard-men!'
What did you say to them, young man,
Silently, through the din?
'"Princes, when ye come in to her,
I pray you, lead me in."'
-"In the Land of Juda," from Poems of Conformity, 1917
I think Dante and Charles Williams and Sayers would have liked that scene. Especially with the Incarnational themes.
I like being named Gabriel.
Showing posts with label Rachmaninoff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rachmaninoff. Show all posts
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Heart Song
If my life were a piece of music
I'd want it to sound like Rachmaninoff.
In other words, I'm back from Russia and I love being home.
=]
I'd want it to sound like Rachmaninoff.
In other words, I'm back from Russia and I love being home.
=]
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
What Music Means to Me
The following is a something I wrote for a recital in the program notes. Questions, comments, critiques are very welcome:
I have been asked to write down some thoughts about what music means to me. I shall begin then, with a short account of my own experience with music. My love of music began (I am almost ashamed to say) from selfish reasons. When I was 10, I read an article about how classical music makes ones IQ go up. Being a snobbish little boy I threw myself into my parent’s Mozart collection which amounted to about 10CDs. All the while, I constantly chanted this mantra to myself: “this will make me smarter, this will make me smarter” add infinitum. Like a musical moron I would vigorously nod my head up and down with the rhythm of the symphony or when the music became grand and exciting I’d wave my hands around frantically as if I were conducting an invisible symphony. Can you imagine what I must’ve looked like? In fact, I would look into the mirror sometimes and practice my I-am-deeply-in-musical-thought look and try to seem very profound, I mostly ended up looking constipated. Thank God something good came of this egoism! As I became more and more familiar with the pieces, I found that I actually enjoyed listening to them for their own sake. I didn’t really even know why yet, I just liked listening. My initial enjoyment began to spill over into a liking for other composers. In addition to Mozart’s music, I began listening to Elgar, Dvorak, Beethoven, Puccini, and then it hit me: I had discovered the Second Piano Concerto of Rachmaninoff. Diane Ackerman, a poet, describes this piano concerto as one that is:
…
full of tenderness and yearning,
beguiling melodies, raging passion,
and long sensuous preludes
to explosive climaxes,
frenzy followed by strains
of mysticism and trance.
Loaded with starry melodies,
it was a map of his sensibility,
and a wilderness rarely known
-the intense life of an artist
seen in miniature, with rapture expressed
as all-embracing sound.
But words do not come close, I think, to describing what it is like to listen to that music. How can I describe that aural experience which ravishes my entire being and makes me weep to hear such beauty? The answer is, I think, that we wouldn’t have music if we could fully describe it in words. Descriptions of Rachmaninoff can only go so far, you will have to listen to it yourself.
If I thought that discovering Rachmaninoff was something, imagine how it must have shaken my world to find Bach! Oh Bach! What a colossal syllable! I shall not even try to tell you the love, humility, and goodwill that his music inspires in me. This is what Leonard Bernstein says, “…once you do get to know Bach well enough to love him, you will love him more than any other composer. I know this because I went through the same process myself.” Further on he states,
And what is it that holds all these pages together, that makes it all inevitably the product of one man? The religious spirit. For Bach, all music was religion; writing it was an act of faith; and performing it was an act of worship. Every note was dedicated to God and to nothing else…Every last cello suite or violin sonata, every prelude and fugue from The Well-Tempered Clavier praises God…Bach…was a man of God, and his godliness informs his music from first to last (The Joy of Music, 237-277).
And with that, I come to my point. The fundamental value of music is in its ability to make us better people. Rather than just a hobby or something we teach children because it will make them “smart” (which it will). Classical music is an education of the heart. It is a vital part of forming a person’s character for the better. Now realize that I am not saying that you need music to be a good person, after all, the Nazis also listened to Schubert, but music makes it that much easier to love God and to love your fellow man. While the music lasts, I am in wonder and awe before its beauty. It’s almost as heady as being in love with someone, and perhaps it is just that – love – I mean. I do love music. And though my fingers stutter and mumble across the keys trying desperately to incarnate that love, I still do it; rather, I play because I love. In the last act of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, we are given a very good model of what all our praises to God are like when the King of Athens comments on the bumbling and ridiculous play of the builders is put on in the King’s honor,
Our sport shall be to take what they mistake,
And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect
Takes it in might, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practiced accent in their fears,
And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,
Out of this silence yet I picked a welcome,
And in the modesty of fearful duty
I read as much as from the rattling tongue
Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity
In least speak most, to my capacity (Act V.90-105).
If you skipped over that long quote, don’t worry about it, I mostly put it there to sound smart. The point is that the king took the stuttering praises of his servants and accounted those jumbled and messy attempts as eloquent speeches because of their love for him. In the same way, God will take our intention and count it as the act. If we will commit the time we spend in practicing and playing this music (like Bach) as a form of worship towards God, then it will mean something; otherwise, recitals are simply mutual admiration societies. We have mechanical piano players to do that. We come here not just to listen to those we know and admire the talent and hard work that has been put into these pieces, we come here also to participate in and experience beauty, beauty that at its root is from God. Life itself becomes more wonderful because such beauty exist. That’s what music means to me, it is one of the ways in which we are led to God. Where would I be without music?
I have been asked to write down some thoughts about what music means to me. I shall begin then, with a short account of my own experience with music. My love of music began (I am almost ashamed to say) from selfish reasons. When I was 10, I read an article about how classical music makes ones IQ go up. Being a snobbish little boy I threw myself into my parent’s Mozart collection which amounted to about 10CDs. All the while, I constantly chanted this mantra to myself: “this will make me smarter, this will make me smarter” add infinitum. Like a musical moron I would vigorously nod my head up and down with the rhythm of the symphony or when the music became grand and exciting I’d wave my hands around frantically as if I were conducting an invisible symphony. Can you imagine what I must’ve looked like? In fact, I would look into the mirror sometimes and practice my I-am-deeply-in-musical-thought look and try to seem very profound, I mostly ended up looking constipated. Thank God something good came of this egoism! As I became more and more familiar with the pieces, I found that I actually enjoyed listening to them for their own sake. I didn’t really even know why yet, I just liked listening. My initial enjoyment began to spill over into a liking for other composers. In addition to Mozart’s music, I began listening to Elgar, Dvorak, Beethoven, Puccini, and then it hit me: I had discovered the Second Piano Concerto of Rachmaninoff. Diane Ackerman, a poet, describes this piano concerto as one that is:
…
full of tenderness and yearning,
beguiling melodies, raging passion,
and long sensuous preludes
to explosive climaxes,
frenzy followed by strains
of mysticism and trance.
Loaded with starry melodies,
it was a map of his sensibility,
and a wilderness rarely known
-the intense life of an artist
seen in miniature, with rapture expressed
as all-embracing sound.
But words do not come close, I think, to describing what it is like to listen to that music. How can I describe that aural experience which ravishes my entire being and makes me weep to hear such beauty? The answer is, I think, that we wouldn’t have music if we could fully describe it in words. Descriptions of Rachmaninoff can only go so far, you will have to listen to it yourself.
If I thought that discovering Rachmaninoff was something, imagine how it must have shaken my world to find Bach! Oh Bach! What a colossal syllable! I shall not even try to tell you the love, humility, and goodwill that his music inspires in me. This is what Leonard Bernstein says, “…once you do get to know Bach well enough to love him, you will love him more than any other composer. I know this because I went through the same process myself.” Further on he states,
And what is it that holds all these pages together, that makes it all inevitably the product of one man? The religious spirit. For Bach, all music was religion; writing it was an act of faith; and performing it was an act of worship. Every note was dedicated to God and to nothing else…Every last cello suite or violin sonata, every prelude and fugue from The Well-Tempered Clavier praises God…Bach…was a man of God, and his godliness informs his music from first to last (The Joy of Music, 237-277).
And with that, I come to my point. The fundamental value of music is in its ability to make us better people. Rather than just a hobby or something we teach children because it will make them “smart” (which it will). Classical music is an education of the heart. It is a vital part of forming a person’s character for the better. Now realize that I am not saying that you need music to be a good person, after all, the Nazis also listened to Schubert, but music makes it that much easier to love God and to love your fellow man. While the music lasts, I am in wonder and awe before its beauty. It’s almost as heady as being in love with someone, and perhaps it is just that – love – I mean. I do love music. And though my fingers stutter and mumble across the keys trying desperately to incarnate that love, I still do it; rather, I play because I love. In the last act of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, we are given a very good model of what all our praises to God are like when the King of Athens comments on the bumbling and ridiculous play of the builders is put on in the King’s honor,
Our sport shall be to take what they mistake,
And what poor duty cannot do, noble respect
Takes it in might, not merit.
Where I have come, great clerks have purposed
To greet me with premeditated welcomes;
Where I have seen them shiver and look pale,
Make periods in the midst of sentences,
Throttle their practiced accent in their fears,
And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off,
Not paying me a welcome. Trust me, sweet,
Out of this silence yet I picked a welcome,
And in the modesty of fearful duty
I read as much as from the rattling tongue
Of saucy and audacious eloquence.
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity
In least speak most, to my capacity (Act V.90-105).
If you skipped over that long quote, don’t worry about it, I mostly put it there to sound smart. The point is that the king took the stuttering praises of his servants and accounted those jumbled and messy attempts as eloquent speeches because of their love for him. In the same way, God will take our intention and count it as the act. If we will commit the time we spend in practicing and playing this music (like Bach) as a form of worship towards God, then it will mean something; otherwise, recitals are simply mutual admiration societies. We have mechanical piano players to do that. We come here not just to listen to those we know and admire the talent and hard work that has been put into these pieces, we come here also to participate in and experience beauty, beauty that at its root is from God. Life itself becomes more wonderful because such beauty exist. That’s what music means to me, it is one of the ways in which we are led to God. Where would I be without music?
Monday, October 27, 2008
Rachmaninoff's Psychiatrist
I rejoice in the fact that this book exists.
I am excited that I own it.
I feel very affectionate about this poem because 1) it is the expression of another who loves Rachmaninoff as well 2) it puts into words a little of what all Rachmaninoff Lovers feel.
Therefore, without further ado:
Rachmaninoff's Psychiatrist
Diane Ackerman
I'm listening to Rachmaninoff's
Piano Concerto No. 2,
which he dedicated to Dr. Dahl,
the psychiatrist who guided him
through the straights of fever,
not long after Sergei had heard
his own first symphony played.
Horrified by its many defects
which seemed a sewage of noise,
he had fled the hall, ashamed,
a quagmire of self-doubt.
We cannot know all the sounds
Dahl and he exchanged,
but rubbing one word against another,
Dahl gradually restored
Sergei's confidence. History tells
that Dahl used affirmations
and auto-suggestion:
"You will compose again."
"You will write a piano concerto."
"You will write with great facility."
Repeated until the words saturated
His gift from head to fingers.
In truth, nothing can kill a gift,
but it may become anemic
from great shock or stress-
a sprain of the emotions will do,
or a traffic accident of the heart,
or a failure dire as a clanging bell.
For two years, Dahl worked
on Sergei's shattered will.
at last he collected up his senses
in a burst of blood fury
and composed his triumphant
2nd Piano Concerto,
full of tenderness and yearning,
beguiling melodies, raging passion,
and long sensuous preludes
to explosive climaxes,
frenzy followed by strains
of mysticism and trance.
Loaded with starry melodies,
it was a map of his sensibility,
and a wilderness rarely known
-the intense life of an artist
seen in miniature, with rapture expressed
as all-embracing sound.
Will you tell me if you know,
how Dahl might have received
such a gift? I cannot imagine it.
With hugs and shared enthusiasm?
With an austere thank you?
In his private moments, did he weep
at the privilege allowed him?
For a time he held the exposed heart
of a great artist, cupped his hands
around it like a flame, blew gently,
patiently, until it flared again.
For that, he earned the blessings
of history, and soothed millions
of hungry souls he would never meet.
Listening to Rachmaninoff's
concerto today, intoxicated by its fever,
I want to kiss the hands of Dahl,
but he is beyond my touch or game.
Allow me to thank you in his name.
Indeed. Thank you Dr. Dahl.
I am excited that I own it.
I feel very affectionate about this poem because 1) it is the expression of another who loves Rachmaninoff as well 2) it puts into words a little of what all Rachmaninoff Lovers feel.
Therefore, without further ado:
Rachmaninoff's Psychiatrist
Diane Ackerman
I'm listening to Rachmaninoff's
Piano Concerto No. 2,
which he dedicated to Dr. Dahl,
the psychiatrist who guided him
through the straights of fever,
not long after Sergei had heard
his own first symphony played.
Horrified by its many defects
which seemed a sewage of noise,
he had fled the hall, ashamed,
a quagmire of self-doubt.
We cannot know all the sounds
Dahl and he exchanged,
but rubbing one word against another,
Dahl gradually restored
Sergei's confidence. History tells
that Dahl used affirmations
and auto-suggestion:
"You will compose again."
"You will write a piano concerto."
"You will write with great facility."
Repeated until the words saturated
His gift from head to fingers.
In truth, nothing can kill a gift,
but it may become anemic
from great shock or stress-
a sprain of the emotions will do,
or a traffic accident of the heart,
or a failure dire as a clanging bell.
For two years, Dahl worked
on Sergei's shattered will.
at last he collected up his senses
in a burst of blood fury
and composed his triumphant
2nd Piano Concerto,
full of tenderness and yearning,
beguiling melodies, raging passion,
and long sensuous preludes
to explosive climaxes,
frenzy followed by strains
of mysticism and trance.
Loaded with starry melodies,
it was a map of his sensibility,
and a wilderness rarely known
-the intense life of an artist
seen in miniature, with rapture expressed
as all-embracing sound.
Will you tell me if you know,
how Dahl might have received
such a gift? I cannot imagine it.
With hugs and shared enthusiasm?
With an austere thank you?
In his private moments, did he weep
at the privilege allowed him?
For a time he held the exposed heart
of a great artist, cupped his hands
around it like a flame, blew gently,
patiently, until it flared again.
For that, he earned the blessings
of history, and soothed millions
of hungry souls he would never meet.
Listening to Rachmaninoff's
concerto today, intoxicated by its fever,
I want to kiss the hands of Dahl,
but he is beyond my touch or game.
Allow me to thank you in his name.
Indeed. Thank you Dr. Dahl.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Musical Narration
I might have commited musical blasphemy, but I'm not sure if I have or not. When I listened to Rachmaninoff's Symphonic Dances exactly one month ago, here's what I wrote in my journal that evening:
Note: Please forgive the horrible butchery of the grammar and beauty of the english language that is to follow. I make no excuses and beg for mercy. (At this point my head says, "drama queen"...)
I listened to The Symphonic Dances. I experienced an image of Love (First great Theme), Dreadful Fear and Sarcastic flippancy reminiscent of the Joker yet different and understood the wailing torture, fear, and despair of the Inferno. Of the frightening power of Death. (Dies Irae) But then comes the Love, this time in old age, the love of Children and Grandchildren where the passion is still there but tempered and drawn into greater things as a lump of metal is smithed into a (or tempered) into a straight, bright shining and noble blade which is both tranquil and fearsome to behold. And again the cruel spite and massive power of Death. But then, a Hero emerges. Small and weak, (in the flesh) and a fierce and awesome battle ensues with the Good dancing blithely where Death can only bludgeon and mock and frighten. Then the Triumph! Christ is Risen from the dead! For by death He tramples death. Alliluya, Alliluya, Alliluya. there is uncertainty and a bit of apprehension in the parting but never fear. Only love and hope and faith and an affirmation of them all. And suddenly! "Well done thou good and faithful servant, Enter and share Thy master's rest."
The Symphonic Dances was Rachmaninoff’s last work before he died.
Oh it's glorious!
He musically quotes a theme from his first symphony (Rachmaninoff Junkies will recognize how significant that is but for those of us who have not been enlightened here's the story: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rachmaninoff), the Dies Irae which I posted about last year: http://choochootrain64.blogspot.com/2007/10/dies-irae.html) and the climax from the most beautiful Choral piece I've ever heard, The Vespers or All-Night Vigil which can be described as Russian Orthodox Aural Ecstacy.
But back to musical heresies. Is it wrong of me to have these images/sensations/feelings in my head and heart when I listen? On one hand I know that music exists for its own sake, yet I also know that music is a language and how else can I understand it but through common human experience? If you look hard enough, you can find the transcripts of one of Rachmaninoff's last interviews before he died. Basically he says that whatever he feels, that is what he tries to communicate through the music whether it be love, fear, sadness, happiness, etc. And so I'm not so sure what to do with my little attempt at Musical Narration.
I think we can safely say that Music still remains fundamentally undescribable through words. Or else it wouldn't really be music.
Go listen to Symphonic Dances. But only after you've heard the Vespers and Dies Irae.
"Blagosloven yesi, Gospodi,
Nauchi mya opravdaniyem Tvoim"
"Blessed art Thou O Lord,
Teach me Thy Statutes"
I recommend these recordings:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dlr90NLDp-0
http://www.amazon.com/Sergei-Rachmaninoff-Vespers-Unaccompanied-Chorus/dp/B000003CV0/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1222245856&sr=8-2
Note: Please forgive the horrible butchery of the grammar and beauty of the english language that is to follow. I make no excuses and beg for mercy. (At this point my head says, "drama queen"...)
I listened to The Symphonic Dances. I experienced an image of Love (First great Theme), Dreadful Fear and Sarcastic flippancy reminiscent of the Joker yet different and understood the wailing torture, fear, and despair of the Inferno. Of the frightening power of Death. (Dies Irae) But then comes the Love, this time in old age, the love of Children and Grandchildren where the passion is still there but tempered and drawn into greater things as a lump of metal is smithed into a (or tempered) into a straight, bright shining and noble blade which is both tranquil and fearsome to behold. And again the cruel spite and massive power of Death. But then, a Hero emerges. Small and weak, (in the flesh) and a fierce and awesome battle ensues with the Good dancing blithely where Death can only bludgeon and mock and frighten. Then the Triumph! Christ is Risen from the dead! For by death He tramples death. Alliluya, Alliluya, Alliluya. there is uncertainty and a bit of apprehension in the parting but never fear. Only love and hope and faith and an affirmation of them all. And suddenly! "Well done thou good and faithful servant, Enter and share Thy master's rest."
The Symphonic Dances was Rachmaninoff’s last work before he died.
Oh it's glorious!
He musically quotes a theme from his first symphony (Rachmaninoff Junkies will recognize how significant that is but for those of us who have not been enlightened here's the story: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rachmaninoff), the Dies Irae which I posted about last year: http://choochootrain64.blogspot.com/2007/10/dies-irae.html) and the climax from the most beautiful Choral piece I've ever heard, The Vespers or All-Night Vigil which can be described as Russian Orthodox Aural Ecstacy.
But back to musical heresies. Is it wrong of me to have these images/sensations/feelings in my head and heart when I listen? On one hand I know that music exists for its own sake, yet I also know that music is a language and how else can I understand it but through common human experience? If you look hard enough, you can find the transcripts of one of Rachmaninoff's last interviews before he died. Basically he says that whatever he feels, that is what he tries to communicate through the music whether it be love, fear, sadness, happiness, etc. And so I'm not so sure what to do with my little attempt at Musical Narration.
I think we can safely say that Music still remains fundamentally undescribable through words. Or else it wouldn't really be music.
Go listen to Symphonic Dances. But only after you've heard the Vespers and Dies Irae.
"Blagosloven yesi, Gospodi,
Nauchi mya opravdaniyem Tvoim"
"Blessed art Thou O Lord,
Teach me Thy Statutes"
I recommend these recordings:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dlr90NLDp-0
http://www.amazon.com/Sergei-Rachmaninoff-Vespers-Unaccompanied-Chorus/dp/B000003CV0/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1222245856&sr=8-2
Sunday, June 29, 2008
MTAC Piano Convention
Okay, so back from Piano Covention. Recital was standard procedure. =]
Now the really really cool thing was the Piano Concerto Competition. There was a ten year old playing Beethoven's first Concerto. An 11 year old playing Mozart's 24th. (I know!!! It's okay, I feel bad too). A 14 year old playing Beethoven's 5th Concerto and (wonder of wonders) a 15 year old playing third movement of Rachmaninoff's 3rd!!! It was quite amazing to say the least. =] And there was a 17 year old playing Prokofiev's 2nd, a 19-20 year old playing the First Movement of Rach's 2nd. And a 20-24 year old playing Saint-Saens' 2nd. Yeah. Wow.
Here were the demographics:
Asian.....Asian......Asian.....Asian....Asian....Asian.....Asian.......and....(think again!).....Russian!
Of course I've been spoiled by the great performers of these concertos (Argerich, Rachmaninoff, Lang Lang, Richter, etc.) so you could tell that they're performance still lacked experience (I'm just being picky here), but just to be able to even play these pieces is a titanic achievement at such a young age! (They each played a movement from the work). Especially the Rachmaninoff 3rd which is arguably the hardest piece of piano music ever written. (Listz would contend for that). =]
Quite inspiring. *nod nod* Now back to work.
Now the really really cool thing was the Piano Concerto Competition. There was a ten year old playing Beethoven's first Concerto. An 11 year old playing Mozart's 24th. (I know!!! It's okay, I feel bad too). A 14 year old playing Beethoven's 5th Concerto and (wonder of wonders) a 15 year old playing third movement of Rachmaninoff's 3rd!!! It was quite amazing to say the least. =] And there was a 17 year old playing Prokofiev's 2nd, a 19-20 year old playing the First Movement of Rach's 2nd. And a 20-24 year old playing Saint-Saens' 2nd. Yeah. Wow.
Here were the demographics:
Asian.....Asian......Asian.....Asian....Asian....Asian.....Asian.......and....(think again!).....Russian!
Of course I've been spoiled by the great performers of these concertos (Argerich, Rachmaninoff, Lang Lang, Richter, etc.) so you could tell that they're performance still lacked experience (I'm just being picky here), but just to be able to even play these pieces is a titanic achievement at such a young age! (They each played a movement from the work). Especially the Rachmaninoff 3rd which is arguably the hardest piece of piano music ever written. (Listz would contend for that). =]
Quite inspiring. *nod nod* Now back to work.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Slightly Better News...
The little flaps of skin in between my fingers are sore but I think if I really really really stretch hard enough I can reach them.
Some words from a master:
"Of course a very small hand will never achieve that feeling of freedom (and of might!), I would say of "mightiness" and "power" which is inherent in large hands able without discomfort or effort to grasp the biggest multipart chords and which is, so to say, their birthright. (Imagine, for instance, Anton Rubinstein's lion's paws, or the enormous soft and powerful hands of Rachmaninov). Small hands in such cases will not be able to forego the subterfuges, the ability to manage in a difficult situation which they acquired over the years by dint of hard work and not without the help of the intellect. In short, they turn their drawbacks into advantages and that is, of course, victory of the spirit over the flesh and consequently particularly precious. But, nevertheless, they will never be able to compare fully with hands which do not need any subterfuge and which, acting by instinct, at once, like nature itself, subjugate the piano and reign over it unchallenged. I know I shall be damned for this discouraging statement, "all wrong from the psychological point of view". But in fact there is nothing discouraging in this. One must reason soberly and not dodge reality. I often preach to my pupils that one plays with piano first of all with the head and ear and ony then with the hands, and that it is possible to play very well with "bad" hands and very badly with "good" hands. This is already a great consolation for those who need it."
-Heinrich Neuhaus from The Art of Piano Playing
I think he (Neuhaus) had even smaller hands then I! (He had problems with his middle [second third and fourth] fingers touching keys when he played octaves) But just listen to him play!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-UCUVtd2gA&feature=related
I'm encouraged. =] Besides. There is (Gasp!) more (much much much more) to life than Rachmaninoff.
Isn't God good? =]
Some words from a master:
"Of course a very small hand will never achieve that feeling of freedom (and of might!), I would say of "mightiness" and "power" which is inherent in large hands able without discomfort or effort to grasp the biggest multipart chords and which is, so to say, their birthright. (Imagine, for instance, Anton Rubinstein's lion's paws, or the enormous soft and powerful hands of Rachmaninov). Small hands in such cases will not be able to forego the subterfuges, the ability to manage in a difficult situation which they acquired over the years by dint of hard work and not without the help of the intellect. In short, they turn their drawbacks into advantages and that is, of course, victory of the spirit over the flesh and consequently particularly precious. But, nevertheless, they will never be able to compare fully with hands which do not need any subterfuge and which, acting by instinct, at once, like nature itself, subjugate the piano and reign over it unchallenged. I know I shall be damned for this discouraging statement, "all wrong from the psychological point of view". But in fact there is nothing discouraging in this. One must reason soberly and not dodge reality. I often preach to my pupils that one plays with piano first of all with the head and ear and ony then with the hands, and that it is possible to play very well with "bad" hands and very badly with "good" hands. This is already a great consolation for those who need it."
-Heinrich Neuhaus from The Art of Piano Playing
I think he (Neuhaus) had even smaller hands then I! (He had problems with his middle [second third and fourth] fingers touching keys when he played octaves) But just listen to him play!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-UCUVtd2gA&feature=related
I'm encouraged. =] Besides. There is (Gasp!) more (much much much more) to life than Rachmaninoff.
Isn't God good? =]
Not So Good news...
My hands are tiny...
compared to Rachmaninoffs. (He could reach a 13th!!!)
*sniffles* I cannot practically reach a 10th.
The huge, thunderous begginning chords of Rach 2 have the left hand going from F to A flat with 2 notes in between. That's a 10th....and then some.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
This must've been a little bit of what Moses felt when he was barred from the Promised Land.
=[ This is a dark, dark day. =[
What am I to do? sigh.
compared to Rachmaninoffs. (He could reach a 13th!!!)
*sniffles* I cannot practically reach a 10th.
The huge, thunderous begginning chords of Rach 2 have the left hand going from F to A flat with 2 notes in between. That's a 10th....and then some.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
This must've been a little bit of what Moses felt when he was barred from the Promised Land.
=[ This is a dark, dark day. =[
What am I to do? sigh.
Treasures Earned
Oooookaaay so, good news. =]
My good friend (who played the Rachmaninoff No. 2 with her friend in highschool) let me borrow the copy of the concerto (with orchestra piano parts). And (Gasp!) offered to let me have it (what a treasure!) if I could play the first page for her by next week. !!! *Many many many smiles*
You can bet I'll get started on it right away...
Oh, and I watched Wicked at Pentageus (Is that how you spell it). It was very well done. I might post something about it... A very thought provoking musical. Liked it very very much.
Its late, I'm tired, Happy Summering! =]
My good friend (who played the Rachmaninoff No. 2 with her friend in highschool) let me borrow the copy of the concerto (with orchestra piano parts). And (Gasp!) offered to let me have it (what a treasure!) if I could play the first page for her by next week. !!! *Many many many smiles*
You can bet I'll get started on it right away...
Oh, and I watched Wicked at Pentageus (Is that how you spell it). It was very well done. I might post something about it... A very thought provoking musical. Liked it very very much.
Its late, I'm tired, Happy Summering! =]
Monday, November 12, 2007
Rhapsody on a theme of Rachmaninoff
Rachmaninoff's music is incredible. My friend MKR sums it up by saying, "He's perfect". Especially in his Piano Concertos (#2 and #3 specifically) the music becomes so complexly beautiful, they evoke so many wonderful emotions and give such a sense of hope that nothing I've ever heard can compare with it. For forty minutes I experience ecstacy. And perhaps the most wonderful thing about Rachmaninoff's Piano Concertos is that I can see glimpes of the Divine Love. I suppose the thing I feel is Wonder as defined by Chesterton, "Gratitude mixed with Awe". Nothing seems impossible and eveything is beautiful during those 40 minutes. Of course I haven't heard that much, but he really is and will always be my favorite composer.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Dies Irae
Sooner or later, when you listen to Rachmaninoff, you'll find him quoting this thirteenth century Latin hymn. If you're in the right mind set, the Dies Irae theme can really freak you out. The theme from this Gregorian chant crops up in quite a few places, it shows up in the 9th variation of Rach's Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, and in his Symphonic Dances, to name a few. It's pretty much talking about the Day of Judgement and eternal punishment if you're not saved. Interestingly enough Mozart (my other favorite composer) also used the text of Dies Irae in the Sequentia segment of his famous Requiem, but wrote different music for it. Here's the text of "Dies Irae": http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dies_Irae
Here's the music for it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dlr90NLDp-0
I recommend reading the translation and listening to it at the same time. It's pretty easy to follow.
Although the whole thing is a bit depressing, there is a glimmer of hope in the piece:
Recordare, Jesu pie,
quod sum causa tuæ viæ:
ne me perdas illa die.
This is my favorite line in it. For those of you taking Latin, see if you can read it, if not, you'll find it on the link above, verse 9.
If anyone knows anything more about this, please let me know, I'd love to talk about it. =]
Here's the music for it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dlr90NLDp-0
I recommend reading the translation and listening to it at the same time. It's pretty easy to follow.
Although the whole thing is a bit depressing, there is a glimmer of hope in the piece:
Recordare, Jesu pie,
quod sum causa tuæ viæ:
ne me perdas illa die.
This is my favorite line in it. For those of you taking Latin, see if you can read it, if not, you'll find it on the link above, verse 9.
If anyone knows anything more about this, please let me know, I'd love to talk about it. =]
Thursday, October 25, 2007
New CDs!
I bought them on Amazon:
Rachmaninoff: Vespers (All-Night Vigil)
The Robert Shaw Festival Singers
Conducted by Robert Shaw
Rachmaninoff: Isle of the Dead
Conducted by Vladimir Askenazy
Rachmaninoff: The Bells (Loosely based on the poem by Edgar Allen Poe), Symphonic Dances
Conducted by Robert Shaw
The last one is supposedly a Grammy winner. =]
Now if only I could find time....I'm so excited! =]
Rachmaninoff: Vespers (All-Night Vigil)
The Robert Shaw Festival Singers
Conducted by Robert Shaw
Rachmaninoff: Isle of the Dead
Conducted by Vladimir Askenazy
Rachmaninoff: The Bells (Loosely based on the poem by Edgar Allen Poe), Symphonic Dances
Conducted by Robert Shaw
The last one is supposedly a Grammy winner. =]
Now if only I could find time....I'm so excited! =]
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