Pedal

 

I've noticed that many bloggers about piano have posts about use of the pedal. So I will add my two cents on this subject as well.

Although people will give you explicit advice and instruction regarding the pedal, one thing to remember is that the pedal is not the same on all pianos. Pedaling on a concert grand piano is not the same as one a small upright. Not only does the pedal itself have a different feel and resistance, just as the action of the keys do, but the volume of sound produced also affects how you will pedal.

Inexperienced or poor pianists use the pedal to cover up a multitude of inadequacies in their technique. For example, if you cannot make the music sound legato with your hands, no amount of pedal will make it sound legato, at least to an astute listener. If pedal really could make up for poor technique with your hands and fingers, there would be a far greater number of good pianists than there actually are! 

With beginning students, I have them play with no pedal at all for quite a while. For intermediate and advanced students -- and for myself -- I advise learning a new piece entirely without pedal until the technical and musical challenges of the piece are starting to be mastered. While the pedal adds great beauty to the music, it also creates what I call a "blur in the auditory image." You may think you hear everything clearly, but a slight blurring of the notes can cause you to miss something important, such as the right balance between voices or between hands, slight rhythmic distortions, even an incorrect note. When you do add the pedal, you can focus your listening on the pedaling a bit more. 

Pedaling, to some extent, is a matter of taste. But there is a range that would be acceptable and enjoyable for the listener. Too much pedal and you have a blurry mess. Too little pedal and you have a dry performance which lacks resonance.

Some people believe, for example, that Bach should be played with little or no pedal, since his music would have been played on harpsichord in his day, which had no pedal. I disagree. No one would say to play Bach without dynamics, yet that is what the harpsichord had -- no ability to make the notes louder or softer. If you want Bach to sound "authentic," then play it on a harpsichord. But if you are playing it on the piano, you should use all the resources of the piano, including pedal. Of course, the pedaling will be quite different than you would use in, say, Debussy. Years of experience playing and listening to the enormous range of genres and periods within classical music will help you to know how to pedal for each of these.

One area of confusion for new piano students is the subject of the pedal markings in the music. There are three possibilities here: no pedal markings at all, pedal markings put in by the composer, and pedal markings put it by an "editor." The first situation, no pedal markings at all, does not mean you play without pedal; it simply means you will have to decide for yourself. The second situation, pedal markings original to the composer, should be taken seriously, but still need to be adapted for our modern pianos. There are places where Beethoven has the pedal held down for several measures, which might have sounded good on his piano, but would be way too much accumulation of sound on our modern pianos. The third situation, markings done by the editor, would be something you could take a look at to see if they make sense, but by no means should they be taken as "gospel." Remember, any markings -- dynamics, pedal, and especially fingering -- are just one person's opinion. If you don't even know anything about the editor (was he or she a great pianist?) then you don't need to feel compelled to follow their advice.

Another problem with many inexperienced or badly-taught students is the use of the "soft" pedal. Again, it is used to cover up the lack of ability to control the volume of sound with your hands and arms. This was never the intent of the so-called soft pedal, which is actually referred to as "una corda." Una corda means one string,  as it shifts the keyboard over so that the hammer hits only one string, instead of all three. This creates a more muted, or "flat" sound. Yes, it has less volume, but the difference in sound quality is the more important feature. Learn to create the softness you desire with your hands and arms only. The una corda should be used primarily where indicated by the composer. Debussy, for example, asks for its use with some frequency, as he wished to explore many "colors" of sound. Late Beethoven and others also call for it. However, even this you would have to take "with a grain of salt" because their pianos were far different than our modern pianos. I have noticed that some pianists keep their left foot on the una corda pedal at all times, which I believe is a mistake; they often depress it out of some reflex action and not because they really want that effect.

For either pedal, it is important to not have a "lead foot." Just as with your hands on the keys, you need to sensitize your foot (and leg) to the exact amount to depress the damper pedal. You'll notice that all pedals have some "waste," that is, even after the spot at which the dampers are lifted, the pedal can still be further depressed. That extra amount doesn't have any effect, so pressing the pedal all the way to the floor is a waste of energy, and can detract from the quickness and subtlety of the pedaling.

Who Can You Believe?

 

In just about any area of human endeavor you can think of, there are many differing opinions about what is right and what is wrong, or what is best and what is worse. Playing the piano and learning to play the piano are no exceptions. There is a wide range of ideas and opinions out there, and, understandably, it can be hard to know who and what to believe.

If someone tells you there is only one right way to do something, you may be suspicious, as probably you should be. Much of science is now accepted as fact -- gravity, for instance. Yet, who knows? Maybe one day we will learn that our understanding of gravity was all wrong. Other scientific theories are said to be proven, but they are always based on what we know up to this point in time. Science is always discovering new things. In many areas of life, we all choose what to believe, based on the information given to us, as well as our own observations and innate common sense.

Sometimes, science reverses itself completely. Nutrition is one area where this is especially true. A few decades ago, dietary fat was thought to be the cause of weight gain, and was to be avoided to a large degree. More recently, it is believed that fat is not the enemy we thought, but that excess carbohydrates are the problem. On the subject of fats, not that long ago we were told to eat margarine instead of butter; yet now, margarine and all trans fats are to be avoided completely. Back in the 50s, there were doctors who actually believed smoking was healthful! It's just amazing how much advice we received which we now know is not only incorrect, but harmful.

If you've been reading this blog, you know that I have very strong opinions on how to approach learning to play the piano. And I often reference other opinions which are in direct opposition to my approach. In fact, there are probably more people (specifically, piano teachers) who believe the ideas that are opposite of mine. You might be inclined to believe others instead of me, based on the pure number of people who believe and promote those ideas. However, as we've seen with areas such as nutrition, the number of people who believe something does not make it fact, or even desirable.

When I first began studying with my teacher, Joseph Prostakoff, in 1975, after already having played the piano for 18 years and having received my degree in piano from Manhattan School of Music, he said the following: "Many of the things I tell you and show you will seem diametrically opposed to what you have always been told and previously learned. You may have a lot of doubts about what I tell you. Yet, since you have come to me, you must put your trust in me 100% and follow my advice without reservation. Then, after a reasonable period of time, if you believe that what I have shown you is not true, or does not work for you, you are free to discontinue the lessons, and we will part friends." I saw then, and still see, the wisdom of this. What would be the point of going to someone for help and instruction, and then not doing what they instruct? In my case, I sought Mr. Prostakoff out precisely because his approach was different, and I did not feel that what I had done up to that point had worked for me. So I had no trouble accepting his terms. Yet... there was still resistance. Unconsciously, I still held on to old ideas. He was incredibly perceptive, and could always point out when I was resisting. He would say, "Why are you fighting me?" Gradually, over the years, my resistance melted away. My playing (and my teaching) changed in profound ways. I often say that I simply would not be playing at all now, 45 years later, had I not studied with him. With my previous approaches, practicing was often like banging my head against the wall. After Mr. Prostakoff, everything fell into place.

Recently I was reading some blog posts of someone who teaches piano, and who, I suspect, may have a fairly large number of followers of his blog. In post after post, he talks about finger strength, and methods of strengthening fingers. He is not alone; this is still a widely accepted belief. Yet, there are many things which poke a hole in this theory, such as, how petite child prodigies play challenging pieces of Chopin and Brahms, when they clearly have not had enough time to develop finger strength. Or how jazz players, who did not grow up with a traditional approach of doing finger exercises, still play with dazzling speed and power. Or, how when you play rapid-fire octaves, your fingers are not actually doing the work at all. Before swallowing any idea hook line and sinker, ask yourself whether there are observations you have made that seem to belie that idea.

My approach to playing and learning is a "gestalt" -- an integrated whole. Within my methods, everything is consistent. There is no case where some aspect of technique I teach you will contradict another aspect or technique. Contradictions in what the teacher tells you could be a sign that something is not right or true. If you suspect that your teacher is not right for you, or, if you have no teacher but are following principles you learned some other way, it is time to seek out something new. When your instinct tells you you have found the right teacher, give yourself over to him or her 100%. Then observe your progress. If you are happy with your progress, you can feel confident that you made a good decision. If not, it may require another search. Piano is not something where "any teacher" will do. You might think you will still learn to play, even with a mediocre teacher, but it is more likely you will find it frustrating and quit. (To be fair, people get frustrated and quit with a good teacher as well, simply because learning to play the piano well requires patience and some "grit," and some people just aren't ready for that commitment.)

If you are studying the piano and feel you are not achieving the mastery you desire -- and perhaps, more importantly, the pleasure -- it may be time to question your beliefs and assumptions about how to play the piano. Although I can't tell you who to believe, I hope this has helped you to know when to accept, and when to question, the ideas and beliefs that other people will try to assure you are "true." Just because those ideas have been around for a long time does not mean they are correct. And sometimes, the longer the idea has been around, the more we should question it.