Modes

 

In a previous post I attemted to explain and clear up confusion about minor scales. Here I will explain what people refer to as "modes."

The so-called modes are simply other scales whose construction is similar to the scales you are already familiar with -- major and minor. They also have 7 tones and have mostly whole steps with half steps in two places in the scale. No two scales have the same exact construction (if they did they would sound identical!).

The modes are: Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, and Lochrian. What many people don't know is that our major scale used to be called Ionian, and our minor scale was called Aeolian. In the Western world there are these seven basic scales, upon which most of our music is based (although I personally know of no music which is based on the Lochrian scale.)

As you can tell from the names, all these scales came to us from the ancient Greeks. No one "invented" them; we have to assume that people started singing, or playing simple instruments, and someone (it is attributed to Pythagoras -- yes, the math guy) codified and wrote down what he heard people singing.  As far as we know, he identified the seven scales listed above. We don't know if some were predominant and others less so. We know that at least several of these scales continued to be used through the Middle Ages. When people hear the chants and other music from the Middle Ages they will often say it sounds "modal," and that is because many are based on the non-major and non-minor scales.

Sometime later, certain scales began to be used more and other less. I am fairly certain that this is because of the growth of the importance and complexity of harmony. Certain scales seem to work better with harmony. The Ionian scale became known as Major, and the Aeolian as Minor. In the centers of the growth of Classical music -- Germany, Austria, France and Italy -- the major and minor scales became the favored scales. However, the other five scales hung around, especially on the "fringes" of Europe such as Eastern Europe and the British Isles. 

Even into our modern age you will hear composers such as Bartok (Hungarian) using Dorian and other older scales, because he heard these in the folk music where he grew up. Even Chopin (Polish) used some, such as Lydian, for parts of his pieces (never the whole piece, however). In Celtic music you will hear Dorian. Debussy was searching for new sounds and he turned to using the modes, which, at his time and place, would have sounded very unusual and exotic.  This is just a partial list. Even the Beatles have some elements of the modes. There is a hint of Dorian in Eleanor Rigby and I think that Norwegian Wood is in Mixolydian. 

When students learn about these other scales, they are often shown them on the piano. All of you reading this know that if you play from C to C on the white keys you get C major. If you play from A to A on the white keys you get A minor. Following along with this idea, if you play from D to D on white keys you get Dorian; E to E is Phrygian, F to F is Lydian, G to G is Mixolydian, B to B is Lochrian. However, you must remember that ALL of these scales came into being hundreds of year before the first keyboard instrument, so they were in no way influenced by the idea of "white keys." (See my post titled "Do you have a white key mentality?") Any and all of the scales/modes can begin on any key, white or black. The scale is determined by where the whole and half steps fall, as mentioned above. I have found people to be confused and locked in to the idea of these modes being all white keys.

As mentioned, many composers have used the modes in their compositions. Jazz improvisors use them (but I caution you about asking a jazz musician to explain modes to you; it may be very confusing!). If you enjoy improvising, I would encourage you to try improvising in, let's say, Dorian. You may find yourself drifting to minor (since Dorian and minor are similar). Our ears are so conditioned to hear just major and minor that is is challenging to really hear the others. You can do it on white keys the first few times to make it easier, but then challenge yourself to play them starting on other keys. Most people will experience the modes as a new and "refreshing" sound. As with some other areas of life, what's old is new again.

Let's Just Play it by Ear

 

Here in the Pacific Northwest we are snowed in, with freezing temperatures -- very unusual for us. Since I'm confined at home I thought I would take the opportunity to write a light-hearted post I've been thinking about for a while.

When people are making plans to go somewhere or do something and the plans can't be finalized, they often say "let's just play it by ear." What they mean is that they are going to keep things flexible, see how the situation develops in the moment and be able to respond.

I love that a phrase about music and playing an instrument have become a part of our mainstream language and idioms. When people hear the phrase "let's just play it by ear," they know exactly what is meant, even if they have never actually played anything by ear.

However, playing by ear is not exactly the right analogy for this situation. When you play music by ear, you are attempting to reproduce the actual song or instrumental piece as closely as possible to the written music. If you are playing a melody by ear, you want to get it exactly right; otherwise, it won't be the actual song, but something similar. If you are going to harmonize the songs, you want to get the harmonies exactly right, or very close, though you may have to do it in a simplified way. For example, if the song was from a movie score and it was accompanied by an orchestra, and you are attempting to reproduce it by ear on piano, you can get the harmonies exactly right, depending on your abilities, of course, but, needless to say, it won't sound exactly like an orchestra. You may be making your own arrangement of the song, but you are still attempting to have the song sound very close the actual song, so that your listeners will recognize it.

When you improvise, you are truly making it up as you go along. The best improvisors may never play the song or piece the same way twice. You may be using a previously-written song as the basis for your improvisation, but, depending on your skills, you may embellish the song's melody and harmonies to such a large degree that is almost becomes something else entirely. And, of course, you can do free-form improv, that is, not based on anything except your own musical ideas at the moment.

So when people say "let's just play it by ear," what they actually mean is "let's improvise." Making it up as you go along is more akin to improvisation than it is to playing by ear. And sometimes people do say "we'll just have to improvise" when they realize they can't predict or plan the future.

Either way, playing by ear and improvising are great skills to have, and, as you know if you've been reading this blog, I highly recommend both!

Keep it Simple

 

Everyone who listens to music (I'm speaking here in particular of classical music) has their own preferences when it comes to performances and interpretation. One person will love a particular performance of a piece and another will not like it much at all. There is no one right or wrong way to play a piece of music; it's really all a matter of taste. So it is not for me to tell someone what to like or not like. That being said, I'm going to share one of the attributes of playing that I feel contributes to the beauty and power of a musical performance. It is this: keep it simple.

Some musicians feel they must "do something" to a piece they are playing in order to put their personal "stamp" on it, to make it different that other people's playing of the piece. They would call this their "interpretation." It would be almost impossible for two people to play identically, so you are already going to play it differently than anyone else due to the way your body moves, the way you hear things, and all the other influences throughout your life that will affect how you play. I've heard pianists say they want to "decide" on their interpretation of the piece, as if it were an intellectual decision. Personally, I'm completely mystified as to how one would "decide" that. Rather than impose my ideas on the piece, I would prefer to let the music flow through me, unemcumbered. I'm not exactly saying I would be "channeling" Beethoven, for example, but I am getting out of the way so the music can speak to the listener without a filter, so to speak.

When I listen to someone play who is trying to "interpret" the piece, I usually experience it as "fussy," that is, too oriented to small details. Their performance misses the forest for the trees. Their playing gets bogged down in details and lacks the sweep and emotional power that I want to hear.

I recall a performance of a Chopin Nocturne by someone I know. From the very first measure she was doing all sorts of extreme rubato (nuances in the timing) and fluctuations of dynamics, and then piling on more and more of that type of thing as the piece went on. The performance was, to my ears, almost a jumble of unrelated phrases. She seemed incapable of just making a simple statement, letting the beauty of the music speak for itself. Someone I knew years ago said "You don't have to try to make the music beautiful; it is already beautiful." I believe that the work we do in our practice, improving our technique and strengthening our ear, is in order to have the mastery to let the music come through. 

When you start working on a new piece, just see if you can play it simply, without trying to "do too much." It would be analogous to a sentence with a straightforward message, without a lot of flowery language. I'm not saying to play it without emotional involvement -- quite the contrary. You must be emotionally engaged, but as the listener. Just listen to the music you are producing and you may, over the course of learning the piece, instinctively add the nuances that your ear is searching for.

I realize this goes against come of the conventional "wisdom" about playing and performance in classical music. I believe that too much emphasis is placed on the performer. They become celebrities. When you hear a really great performance, in my opinion, you get carried away by the beauty of the music to the extent that you become almost unaware of the performer. I believe that we, as performers, need to get our egos out of it.

Please ready my earlier post entitled Interpretation (2/13/15) for more in-depth discussion.

As with many areas of life, it would benefit us to keep it simple.

Favorite Quotes from my Teacher, Part II

 

It's best if you read my previous post, Part I, before reading this one.

If you can reach the interval, you don't need to stretch; if you can't reach it, no amount of stretching will help you.

This seems counterintuitive at first. Don't you have to stretch to reach, say, a tenth on the piano, if your hand is not very large? Wouldn't that be the only way to manage it? Actually, the correct way to reach an interval that is just at the limits of your hand is to relax into it. Stretching actually tightens the muscles. When you stretch in yoga, for example, you don't force the body into the pose, you relax into it. That is the way to become more limber. My hands are small to normal, yet I reach a tenth, because I have learned to let the hand relax into it. Try this: close your hand in a relaxed (not tight) fist. Gradually open your hand, as if you were watching slow motion photography of a flower blooming. Then just float onto the interval you want to play. You will notice it feels much easier and reachable now, as long as your hand didn't tense up at the last second. Keep practicing this and you will train your hand to stay relaxed for the larger intervals. Since I can't reach any more than a tenth, no amount of stretching will make it happen.

How you hear will be how you play, and how you play will be how you hear.

This is actually a very profound concept. Other than my teacher, Joseph Prostakoff, I have never heard anyone else propose this idea. If you move in a stiff or choppy way when you play, your ear will become used to this sound and will not only accept it, but prefer it. It will sound normal to your ear. Because your ear expects that sound, it will continually drive you to play in that way. If you play in a very smooth, connected way, with long lines and phrases, your ear will accept and prefer this sound, and will continue to compel you to play that way. In other words, there is a feedback loop between your ear and the physical, actually your motor cortex, which sends the impulses to the hands and fingers. Think of a young child playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star; it will be quite choppy -- what I call "note-wise" -- which is basically the hallmark of a beginner's sound. To the child, this sounds perfectly fine, and the child would not be at all aware that there is a better sound to strive for. If the child receives no instruction in how to use their hands and arms differently, they would most likely continue to play in this way. They might, however, as they grow up, hear recorded or live music played in a more connected and fluid way, and could possibly try to achieve that sound. In that case, their ear would be directing their body to do something differently. 

For the teacher, this presents a singular challenge: how to get the student to play and hear differently. Which one do you start with? I start with the physical, which is easier for me to work on with them in the allotted lesson time. Through various means, including, but not limited to, having their hands lightly on mine as I play, or my manipulating their hands as they play, they get a sensation of a new way to move. When they can start moving this way, the ear gets a chance to hear the improved lines and phrases, and will, as explained above, start to seek out this sound. It's a long process. This process may go extremely quickly in a student with more natural ability, and go slowly in a student with less. Some people say you can't teach "talent," but you can teach the student how to move more beautifully, and therefore play more beautifully.

All we have to fear is fear itself.

Of course you will recognize this is actually a quote from Franklin Delano Roosevelt, from a speech about World War II. It applies to many areas of life, including playing an instrument. If you've read my posts entitled "Fear," you'll see that I strongly believe that our fears -- fear of mistakes (wrong notes), fear of not measuring up to expectations, fear of "putting ourselves out there," and many others -- govern a great deal of how we play, and how well we play. Some fears you may be aware of and others not so much. It doesn't matter how many hours you practice; if your playing is encumbered by fear, it will never be truly great. An insightful teacher can help address these fears at the piano. Mr. Prostakoff was an amazingly insightful teacher. He would often quote this FDR phrase at our lessons. It certainly bears repeating.