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.
No comments:
Post a Comment