Another misconception: curved fingers

 

If you've had piano lessons, you may well have had teachers who told you to "curve your fingers." You may have been told to imagine your fingers curved around a ball, such as a tennis ball. There are beginner books, for both children and adults, which show a picture of how this should look.

The problem is, it's just plain wrong. 

Challenge anyone who tells you to curve and ask them to explain why. There just isn't any good reason. Try playing an octave, or a chord spanning an octave with four notes, and you'll see you can't do it with curved fingers. The hand (the palm, actually) must open up to be able to span that distance. Look at Chopin's first etude in C major; the entire piece consists of arpeggios which span a tenth, and the whole thing is meant to go at lightning speed. There is no way to do it with curved fingers.

If your piece requires loud dramatic chords, of course this has to be accomplished with the arm (despite what some will tell you.) But if you come down hard onto curved fingers, the joints of the finger take all the impact and it can be dangerous for the joints.

Instead, you want to have the natural curvature of your hand. Lay your hand palm up (prone) on your lap, and your hand will form it's natural curvature. Move your hand to the piano without changing anything; this is how you should play. Some people naturally have more curvature, some have less. No one has a completely flat hand, and no one is naturally curved as if over a ball. You may need to flatten (open) your hand even more to play a ninth or tenth. Watch a video of the late Vladimir Horowitz; you'll see he had practically flat fingers, yet he had huge technique.

With curved fingers you contact the keys on the tip of the finger. This is why you'd hear the clicking of your nails unless you keep them extremely short. (See my post "Can Pianists Have Nice Nails?) But if you have more of an open hand, you contact the keys with the pads of your fingers, which, as that term indicates, gives you more padding. It is much more comfortable and better suited to take the impact of loud playing, and you won't hear your nails clicking.

As with many other old ideas about piano technique, curved fingers orginated in the days of the harpsichord and early pianos, which were very different from our modern piano, and the music being composed at the time was also much less demanding. Curved fingers is another example of what I call a "300-year-old idea."

Plateaus

 

If you've been playing the piano for a while, you've probably had the experience of being on a plateau -- just not seeming to improve even though you're still practicing as much as you always did. (This is a phenomenon that other discliplines, such as athletics, deal with as well.) It can be very frustrating. You wonder if you are doing something wrong. You might even have thoughts of giving up.

First of all, know that this is how learning usually works. It is often not a steady climb, as if on a hill, but more like a staircase: you make a movement upwards, then stay at the same level. Then another jump up, and level off again. You can even learn to enjoy the plateaus, knowing that your brain is preparing for the next jump up.

However, if you have a lot of plateaus that last for a long time, you're probably practicing wrong. Just playing the pieces over and over again is the worst thing to do. You can't "white knuckle" your way through a plateau. Instead, you need to find some more creative ways of practicing that challenge your brain, and cause it to form new "wiring" (neural pathways). I've blogged about many of these, but not necessarily as regards plateaus. Here are some things you can do.

Transposing. Playing the whole piece, or at least parts of the piece, in another key is supremely challenging for most people. The challenge is why it works. The goal is to transpose as much as possible by ear, but use the score as necessary. When you use the score, you are mentally calculating the distance (interval) from the original key to the new one. But doing it by ear is where the real benefit happens because it "drives the music into your ear." By that I mean that you ear will really know the music.

Playing hands crossed. Play the right hand's part with the left hand and vice versa. What this does is temporarily destroy muscle memory so the ear has to take over. Like transposing, it strengthens the auditory image of the music, that is, a deep knowledge of how it sounds.

Play with one finger, alternating hands on each note. This will obviously only work for a single line melody. You could do this with the main melody, the bass line, or any individual voice. If you are having trouble memorizing even just the melody, this would be good to do. As above, you can't rely on muscle memory so you have to use the ear.

Playing with eyes closed. You should be doing this a lot of the time anyway, as soon as you know the piece or passage by memory. If you haven't been doing this and you find yourself on a plateau, definitely include this in your practicing.

Practice the piece in sections in reverse order (assuming it is a piece of some length). Practice the last section through, then go to the next-to-last section, practice it and then play them both through to the end. Continue with each previous section until you are playing the whole piece. I can't really explain why this works, other than it is just a fresh perspective, but it does seem to help.

Take a break. Put the piece aside for a few weeks and take up some new pieces. The brain will develop new neural pathways from the new pieces that will, hopefully, assist in everything you play, including the piece you set aside. As mentioned, trying to force your way through a plateau is probably not going to work, and it certainly won't be fun. 

Does Every Good Boy Do Fine, actually?

 

Most of you will probably recognize the phrase in the title of this post. Someone came up with it decades, if not centuries, ago, as a way to learn the notes on lines in the treble clef. "All cows eat grass" was the phrase for the spaces in the bass clef. Theortically, if you know these, every other note would just be one note away from one of these. But in reality, if you see the note at the space above all the lines in the treble clef, you might have to say "every good boy does fine" to find the F on the top line, so you can find the G on the space above it. That would be too slow for real-time playing. Instead, you'd want to just know that top line is F, for example, rather than having to repeat the whole phrase to yourself. (See below for how to do this.)

But the main problem with this method is that it focuses on the absolute note names instead of the intervals, or distances, between them. Navigating by interval is the ONLY way to become proficient at sight reading. Even if you think you learned the E-G-B-D-F method (which you may very well have), your mind eventually figured out the distances between notes and switched to reading by interval.

Another problem with the E-G-B-D-F method is that it is hopeless for reading in ledger lines, the notes that are written above or below the clefs. Almost all of my students who came from other teachers still have trouble reading in the ledger lines, and have to count the notes up (or down) to the one they see, and then they often resort to writing the note name in the score so they won't have to keep counting up to it. If you are playing -- or want to play -- advanced pieces, there will be many notes on ledger lines, so it's imperative that this be just as easy as reading the notes which fall on the staff.

However great reading by interval is, sometimes you need to find a note by its absolute name, such as the first note of the piece. For this purpose I have a set of "landmarks," which are all the Cs, Fs and Gs on each clef. (Middle C is the same for both clefs.) In the treble clef there is middle C, written on a ledger line, then G on the second line (indicated by the "curl" of the treble clef symbol"), then C on the third space up, and F on the top line. In the bass clef you have middle C, then F on the second line going downwards (indicated by the two dots around that line in the clef symbol), the C on the third space down, and lastly G on the lowest line. Looking at it as a mirror image, the Cs correspond, the Fs and Gs flip. This way you are never more than two notes away from any other note, and the same system works for both clefs. With the every-good-boy-does-fine and all-cows-eat-grass, you have different systems for each clef, and they do not match up well (one is on lines, the other on spaces). 

Of course, after a period of playing, these landmarks will become internalized, and in fact, so will all the notes on the staff. You won't have to think about their names at all. And that is the point. Don't think about note names. See my post titled Sight Reading from March 2015 for a fuller discussion of these concepts.

This is Madness

 

I recently saw an article in the magazine Piano Street regarding a new device, basically a robotic hand, which, when attached to the hand, is touted as being able to increase the speed at which the pianist plays. 

Here is the link:

When Practice Stagnates: Robotic Training for Pianists

As you see, the device fits on the hand and the makes the fingers move rapidly. The hand isn't really doing the work, it is just passive. The article shows a pianist before and after using the device, and demonstrates that there is an increase in speed even after the device is removed.

Wow, there is so much that is wrong about this.

First, the device only deals with the fingers. As you've read in this blog, I don't subscribe to the common misconception that piano technique is all about the fingers. It is more about the integration of the arm, hand and fingers (and even the torso). The example shown in the video is a pianist playing "double thirds" (a slow trill on two notes) which essentially stays in one place. This, however, is not real life. All challenging music for the piano will require you to movie up and down the keyboard. Chopin's "double thirds" etude (Opus 25 #6) starts this way but then proceeds to move up and down the piano in scales and other patterns in thirds, which obviously must include the arm. ("The hand isn't going anywhere the arm doesn't take it.")

Second, the article admits that, even though the hand is passive, there is still the possibility of injury with the device. You don't say! Over-use of the small muscles is the main cause of injury and strain for pianists. The author of the original article states: "I'm a pianist, but I injured my hand because of overpracticing. I was suffering from this dilemma, between overpracticing and the prevention of injury, so then I thought, I have to think about some way to improve my skills without practicing." Instead of questioning his whole approach to technique he just looked for a workaround, a way for something else to do the work for him. Learning to use the larger muscles of the arm and less reliance on the fingers would have prevented his injury. The late pianist Leon Fleisher developed dystonia in his hands and had to stop playing altogether. After many attempts to cure it (which didn't work), he discovered he could play if he stuck to pieces that weren't so "finger-y," that is, pieces with big chords, for example, which used more of the arm. As it turns out, dystonia is a "scrambling" in the brain from over-use of the fingers, and not a physical problem with the hand at all. To me, that indicates you could have the same problem even if the robot is causing the movements. It's still affecting the brain.

Third, the playing in the article's video sounds.... well... robotic. Of course it does! The device would not allow for any nuance in the playing. If you've been reading this blog, you know I really reject the idea of practicing without musicality and then hoping you can flick a switch and play musically when you want to. Listen to a great pianist play the Chopin Double Thirds Etude and you'll hear there is a lot of nuance, and can, and should, be played very musically. To play musically, you have to practice playing musically.

One valuable thing that this experiment with the robotic device demonstrates is the power of the brain in everything related to piano technique. The article states: Surprisingly, the untrained hand also showed improved performancee, demonstrating an inter-manual transfer effect. So, in other words, it was something that happened in the brain which caused the other hand -- the one not trained with the device -- to improve as well. Wouldn't it be better to explore how to change our brains everytime we practice, rather than use a cumbersome device with potential for harm? I emphasize this in my teaching. See my posts "It's All (Neuro)logical" of December 2020, and "Practicing to Build Your Brain Power" of August 2020.

I doubt whether this device will come into common usage due to cost and other factors. But if it does, I shudder at the thought of every beginning or intermediate, or even advanced student starting to practice using this device. It is frustrating when you feel you reach a "plateau" in your piano practice and you aren't improving. Some of this is the natural learning curve. But most of it is probably how you're practicing. Some of the things pianists do to try to break through a plateau are useless and some are just plain harmful. In an upcoming post I will discuss what to do about plateaus.

What Are You Thinking?

 

What exactly is the role of "thinking" when playing the piano?

Thinking goes hand in hand with talking to yourself. See my post titled "Talking to Yourself" (December 2023). Most of us have thoughts going on in our heads every waking minute of the day. You'd probably agree that, while some of it may be necessary, much of it is just inner babbling.

Discliplines such as meditation, Tai Chi, yoga, Qigong and others aim to quiet the mind. In meditation, when you become aware of the thoughts going through your mind, the goal is to just observe them and let them go. 

You may notice when you have a lot of thoughts, you are less observant of what is going on around you. If you are having a conversation with someone, the ideal would be to focus on them and what they are communicating, and not be rehearsing your response in your head while they are talking. Sound familiar? We all do it.

Some would say to think about what you are doing as you learn a new piece of music, to "process" it, even analyze it. But is that really desirable? If you are thinking then you are talking to yourself, and if you are talking to yourself, you aren't listening, just like in the case of a conversation with someone.

I recently read an article where the author wrote: Control your thoughts to express emotion in your music. He goes on to say the the process of learning music is a mental one, and when someone is not physically capable of executing some difficult music, the mind can overcome it. This is, he explains, how young prodigies manage to play all the big challenging pieces that adults do. Your common sense tells you this can't possibly be correct. A person's mind can't possibly overcome the difficulty of running the 50-yard dash in under ten seconds, or any other athletic feat. It's all physical! Yes, the mind plays a role in having confidence, overcoming self-doubt and visualizing success while in training. But while they are running the race itself? I'd bet their mind is not full of chatter and thoughts. During the race, their mind is only observing.

How would "controlling your thoughts" translate to playing with more emotion? He doesn't explain. You'll find the more you try to control your thoughts, the more they will fight back, so to speak. The only thing you can do is observe them and let them go. In playing the piano, this means your goal is to focus solely on listening to the music as you play. If you are truly listening, there is no room for thoughts to enter. But if you observe you are having thoughts, just return your mind to listening. 

Playing with or without emotion is determined far more by what you do physically (the word emotion has "motion" in it) than it is by how or what you think. If you feel your playing doesn't have enough emotion or expression, it is probably due to several factors: 1) your technique is faulty and doesn't enable you to play with beautiful phrasing and legato, for two examples; 2) you've spent too much time practicing without emotional involvement (the idea that you "learn the notes first" and add expression later); 3) you've spent too much time doing exercises which train you to play mechanically; and, 4) not really listening.

What Are Master Classes, and should you participate in one?

 

A "master class" can be offered in many different fields, but I suspect it is most common in the field of music.

A master class may be offered by a famous, or at least well-known, musician. Perhaps he or she is in your city for a concert, and they decide to offer a one-time master class. Attendees can participate, or, in some cases, just observe. The idea is that you, as a student of the piano, for example, have a chance to have a famous, top-notch pianist, listen to and evaluate your playing, and give you some pointers or advice. You would also hear the pointers being given to the other particpants (who would be playing different pieces), and potentially benefit from those as well. You would need to come prepared with at least one piece to play, one that you can play at a competent level. True master classes are never meant for beginners; you would have to be somewhat advanced to be allowed to participate.

The amount of time the master spends with each individual participant is probably going to be fairly short, because, of course, there could be a fairly substantial number of participants. They probably won't have you play the whole piece, just sections of it.

Clearly, every participant comes at a different level of ability, and the master is tailoring his comments to your specific playing. It is not a case of giving the same information or advice to everyone.

If you read my post titled Coaching vs. Teaching, you will see that the idea of a master class falls solidly into the coaching category. You have already learned the piece you are playing at the class. You have also developed your "interpretation" of the piece (whether it was intentional or not). You have already developed the level of technical ability to be able to play that piece. So the teacher of the master class is not teaching you new skills; there wouldn't be time for that. Rather, they are just coaching you, you might say "tweaking" your playing of that piece. The teacher might make suggestions regarding dynamics or phrasing or other aspects of interpretation. Perhaps some of these suggestion are quite enlightening; after all, the "master" has far more experience with music and the piano than you do, so one would hope their advice would be valuable. However, "interpretation" is a very personal thing. The master may be giving you his/her interpretation which may not feel right to you. Remember, they are not correcting wrong notes or anything at that level -- it is assumed you can actually play the piece. So it follows that most, if not all, of what they can address during the class is interpretation.

Naturally you are free to take some or all  -- or none -- of their pointers to heart. 

In my view, changing some dynamics or phrasing here and there doesn't fundamentally change how you play. How you play is essentially already "baked in the cake" because of your physical technique. Many people believe that interpretation and expression are like a coat of paint you put on at the end, but I strongly disagree with that idea. Everything you do physically affects the sound you produce, therefore, your physical technique and habits have already largely determined your "interpretation." For example, if you have developed a very finger-oriented technique, which can produce a stiff and mechanical sound, no amount of advice from the master about your phrasing is going to enable you to change that overnight. It would require a whole re-working of your technique, which would require a really great teacher, not a coach.

So-called master classes can be found online. One says it offers "small bites" of advice from famous jazz or classical musicians. However, this is not a master class, if the teacher of it is not even hearing you play. Clearly nothing they say is in response to your particular playing. If it is a one-way street of information flow, then it is really no different from all the other thousands of videos and "classes" you can find online. If you've read some of my earlier posts, you'll see I strongly advise not to try and learn this way. You will almost certainly reach a dead end. The reason for having an in-person teacher is so that they can respond to your playing, and problem-solve your particular issues.

If you are an advanced player and have the opportunity to take a master class from someone whose playing you admire, go ahead and do it if you can. But just remember it won't be a magic wand that will transform your playing.

Memorizing, Part II

 

I wrote about memorizing in a previous post (November, 2012). Some of this will be repetition of those points, but in this post I also want to give my thoughts regarding a post I've recently read from someone who also has a blog about learning and playing the piano.

The best memorizers are the the musicians with the best ears. It's really that simple. (The exception would be those with a photographic memory, who are picturing the score as they play. This may be a very reliable way to memorize, but I feel it is not the best way, from a musical standpoint.) Of course you realize that when I say "ear" I'm talking about the auditory cortex of the brain. If you know a piece of music by ear then you automatically know it by memory. Let's take a simple example: you never saw the sheet music for Happy Birthday, but it was easy for you to pick out the melody by ear and then harmonize it with a few simple chords. You are probably not going to "forget" it. Once your ear knows it, it always knows it. (You don't foget how to sing songs you've known well. Maybe the words, but not the tune.) You may think that's a huge stretch, to know a Chopin Ballade "by ear," but I assure you it can be done, and is done, by all the top pianists.

There are quite a few earlier posts which discuss how to develop your ear.

The points made by the other blogger are as follows:

• Play through your music regularly. Yes, of course, if you learn a piece but then don't play it for many years, the memory may fade. It will fade the most if you depended mostly on muscle memory, which is the first "memory" to be acquired and the first to be lost. The neurological pathways that form muscle memory have fallen into dis-use and will disappear, or perhaps they are "over-written" by new ones. If you've played piano for a lifetime, as I have, and have learned thousands of pieces, it's difficult to play through all the pieces frequently. But I do agree with the concept: the more often you bring your pieces out of "cold storage" the better you will know them.
• His second point is to understand the structure of the piece through music theory. I agree that it's a great idea to understand how your piece is put together, especially when it comes to harmony. You can learn what comprises "sonata form," which applies to sonatas as well as concertos, many symphonies, string quartets, and many others. But a Mozart sonata is very different than one by Prokofieff, and just knowing the "facts" of sonata form isn't going to help you with memorizing. Am I saying it's OK to be a dummy about musical form? Absolutely not. Although it would be possible to know nothing about how how music is structured and still play beautifully, why would you? If you love music, hopefully you'd want to know more about it -- in depth. In my previous  post on memory I discuss the ways that intellectual knowledge of your piece can be important. But it is not the primary foundation for memorizing.
• His next point is "learn the music correctly from the start." What can I say? Duh.
• "Slow practice reinforces your memory." Not necessarily. If it did, you'd find it easier to memorize slow pieces than fast ones. But you'll find that's not true. A fast Clementi Sonatina is far easier to memorize than, say, a slow piece by Rachmaninoff, Brahms, or Bartok. Why? The harmonies in the latter pieces are exponentially more complex, and it is hearing those harmonies (not just being able to name them) that creates the challenge for memory. 
• "Play through the piece in your mind." Your "fingers" may go through the motions of playing even when you are not at the piano, and your mind may be hearing the piece internally. But how much are you really hearing? Can you sing the bass line? How about one of the inner voices? I emphasize the importance of singing. The ear and the voice have a direct connection; there is no muscle memory to assist you. So if you can sing it, the ear knows it. I think limited amounts of "playing" when you are away from the piano, such as when you can't really get to a piano, could potentially be useful, but try to spend your time at the actual piano instead.
• His final point is to take care of your body and mind. Again, what can I say..... If you are ill or depressed you may not memorize easily. But I'm sure there are many exceptions. Even so, of course take care of your health for its own sake!