Understanding Repetition

 

Anyone you talk to about learning to play the piano -- or any instrument -- will tell you that it entails doing lots and lots of repetition. Thousands of hours. You hear this so often that most people just assume it's true. They don't tell you much about how to do the repetition, just that you must do it.

Before coming to me for lessons, one of my students would often repeat a certain measure or short passage in a piece of music fifty or more times in a row. He always thought that if he just did something enough times, one day it would just all fall into place and he would play it fluently. Sadly, this never happened for him.

What are we trying to achieve when we do something numerous times in succession? As you've read in my previous posts, learning to do any set of physical movements, whether at the piano or elsewhere, requires that neural pathways in your brain be established. This is true for learning to walk as a toddler, or playing a Chopin Etude. Every person is different in the speed at which they form these neural connections, and every person forms them differently for different activities. Someone may be very quick at forming the pathways for the piano but could be slow at forming them for golf or tennis, and, of course, vice versa.

There is no magic number of repetitions which will establish the brain connections you desire. Many people believe that if five repetitions is good then fifty must be better. Not true. The brain does not like to be bored. After a certain amount of repetition, boredom sets in and you lose focus. After that point, the repetitions are probably useless, and very likely detrimental. If you have lost focus, then your playing of that passage will be mechanical and not musical, so you are reinforcing something you don't actually want in your playing. Many students of the piano are 100% concerned with only the notes themselves and nothing else. Any student with this attitude will never play beautifully, and never up to their full potential. You wouldn't dream of learning to do public speaking by practicing just saying the words of your speech over and over, mechanically, without any inflection or nuance, and then think you will later give the speech with those nuances. That is what you are doing when you just practice "the notes."

My recommendations are as follows:

Don't do repetitions unless you have to. If you read my post about "spot work" versus playing through, you'll see I encourage playing through as much as possible; this means the whole piece, if you can, but if not, then at least meaningful sections of the piece. This, however, doesn't mean all the details, which is why I teach and emphasize the importance of outlining, that is, playing a sketch of the piece, adding details little by little. If you do this, the goal is that most of the piece may never need "spot work."

If you are consistently having trouble with a given spot, you will need to isolate it and work on it separately. First however, you need to analyze why are you having trouble. This is where a good teacher is critically important. If you don't really know the technical (or auditory) reason for your stumbling in that spot, doing a lot of repetition may not solve it. If you have been consistently playing "wrong notes," you now have some neural pathways for that, and they need to be discarded and replaced by the desired neural pathways. I recommend doing three to four repetitions. Two is definitely too few; five begins to verge on boredom. Then, when you play the piece through, see if it is better. If not, do the same process the next time you practice. Doing repetition spread out over several practice sessions and/or several days is better than trying to ram it through all at once. It is my experience that when you tell your brain that this is the action you want it to do and you are telling it that day after day, it realizes it must keep this neural pathway and not discard it. This is why when you cram for a test you may know the information the next day, but a week later and it is gone. The brain seems to know it doesn't need it anymore. On the other hand, when you study the material slow and steady over a period of time, the brain is far more likely to retain it.

Use other methods of practice besides repetition which also strengthen the neural pathways. Making the brain work harder through practices such as transposition, playing eyes closed, playing hands crossed, and other methods I have written about, are often more effective than pure repetition, and may take less time as well. Repetition is the "brute force" method of learning, but other, more subtle methods, make your practice time more effective and probably more enjoyable.

Walking Backwards

 

I've just read an article about walking backwards. Specifically, it has benefits for the muscles (such as the hamstrings) due to the difference of how you place your foot down (toes first versus heel first in normal walking). But what's more interesting -- to me, at least -- is the benefits it has for the brain. (You can find the article on bbc.com's Just One Thing.) The article says the Chinese have a saying that 100 steps backwards are worth 1000 steps forward. 

What does this have to do with playing the piano?

Apparently there isn't much research on the brain benefits of backwards walking yet, but it may boost memory. This comes as no surprise to me. Anytime we do things in a way which is different from our habitual ways, the brain must forge new neural pathways, and that's always a good thing. More pathways = more brain power. I view it as  similar to many of the techniques I use myself and recommend to my students, such as playing hands crossed, playing with eyes closed, and transposing. These are all challenging and require the brain to work hard. That's why I call them "desirable difficulties."

Many people mistakenly believe that practice time should be spent playing through pieces, perhaps some extra work on certain difficult spots by employing lots of repetition, and maybe some technical exercises, also with lots of repetition. Or maybe it's not so much that they believe it, it's just that no one has helped them to see other possibilities. Although you will possibly see improvement in your playing from this approach, it is also likely that at some point you will reach an impasse, a plateau in your progress, and it may seem like you're stuck and and go no further in developing the mastery of the music. This is almost certainly because the brain is in a rut; it just goes down the same pathways over and over. In addition to this type of practice being less beneficial, it can also be boring and make the practice time feel like a chore.

When I observe a student struggling with a specific passage in the music, I have many tools in my toolbox to try (a few of them are mentioned above.) Sometimes I just try something really out of left field, something that just pops into my mind at the moment. (You can imagine the looks I get from my students.) The goal is to experience the passage in a new way, mostly physically, but that also means the brain is working differently. It's amazing how often it helps.

I've done my backwards walking today, and plan to continue. My recommendation: do it indoors to start with!

There is No Backspace Key

 

When I look at the stats for all my previous posts, the post titled "Wrong Notes" has by far the most number of views. Everyone who attempts to learn to play the piano wants to know the secret for eliminating those pesky wrong notes. If only it were that simple....

Unfortunately, the way most people deal with the wrong notes is the least effective way. It might be better to say not effective at all. That is to immediately "correct" the note by playing the intended note right after playing the unintended one. The urge to do this is very strong, and most piano students do it so automatically they often don't always realize they have done it, and even when they do realize, they just cannot resist the urge to do this.

There is no backspace key on the piano! (Or any other instrument, of course.) Trying to replace the incorrect note with the correct one as you are playing doesn't mean the incorrect note didn't exist. Your ear heard it, and your hands played it, and you cannot erase that. You may intellectually know that the note you really wanted was the second one, not the first, but your "animal brain" just hears two notes in succession, not placing any value judgement on them as right or wrong. Similarly, your muscle memory (which is really the motor cortex of the brain) had the experience of playing the two notes in succession without having any sense of which one you wanted and which you didn't. Therefore, because of how both the ear and muscle memory work (developing and solidifying new neural pathways in the brain), you are more likely, not less, to just repeat the same succession, meaning the "wrong" note followed by the "right" one, again the next time. And the next time and the next time..... Haven't you all had that experience? The intellect has much less to do with how and what you play than many people think. It's the ear working together with the motor cortext that really run the show.

As I often say, if this method of "correcting" as you play really worked, we'd all be playing all the correct notes by now.

Not only is this attempt at correcting not useful, it's harmful to your playing. First, it interrupts the rhythm. In my many thousands of hours of teaching, I observe that almost everyone is willing to throw the rhythm under the bus for the sake of the notes. But the notes and the rhythm are inextricably linked; to change the rhythm is to change the sound of the music, which your ear also hears, and may lead to less security with the rhythm of that passage in the music. If you are playing hands together (which I hope you are, as close to 100% of the time as possible), if one hand has to stop to go back and "replace" the incorrect note, the other hand has to stop as well. So you may be creating a potential problem in the hand that didn't even have a problem with the note in the first place.

Instead, you must do what is necessary to prevent yourself from playing the wrong note(s) in the first place. You want to stop reinforcing the undesired nerual pathway in the brain so it will not become permanent and will be discarded. Great! you say.... but how do I do that??? 

The first step is to know whether the missed note was just a one-time slip, or whether it happens habitually. As you playing your piece, do not stop and try to correct, just do your best to remember where there was a problem. If it was a one-time slip, just let it go by. Don't make an "issue" of it because you may turn what was a one-time slip into a bigger problem. If you notice you miss notes in the same way and the same place every time, then you must isolate that passage and work on it "offline," so to speak. 

Habitual missed notes are caused by faulty technique and/or a weak auditory image, meaning the ear (auditory cortex) is not really hearing it. If you have a teacher, he/she should be observing what you are doing physically that causes you to miss the notes, and work on correcting that issue. (Unfortunately, many teachers just point out the wrong notes, maybe even circle those notes in your score, and tell you to just go home and fix them! No instruction on how to do that!) If you have no teacher, you can try to do this through careful examination of what your hands are doing. Making a video recording of yourself could help so that you see your hands and arms from a different perspective could be helpful. 

Many people will say play hands separately, go very slowly, and so on, for the spot with the missed notes. These can be helpful, to a degree, because they may allow you to really focus your attention on the problem. Focusing your attention is critical to solve a "wrong note" problem. (That's another reason why just trying to play the correct note after the incorrect one as you play is not successful -- because it's not done with a high degree of focus.) But if the problem is your technique, it will still be there after you have practicied slowly and hands separately.

Many problems that people think are technical are actually "ear" issues. You may think you really hear the passage, but at a deeper level you may not. Playing with eyes closed and transposing the passage to other keys will make the ear work harder and will strengthen the brain's auditory image of the music. See previous posts on these subjects.

Perhaps most important of all, just accept that learning to play an instrument, especially one as complex as the piano, will mean you will play many, many wrong notes along the way. It's part of learning. Try to take a "zen" approach and not get too attached to having 100% correct notes 100% of the time. If you are a concert pianist then, yes, you probably will demand that of yourself. But for the rest of us mortals, don't let wrong notes spoil your enjoyment of playing. Do everything you can to build your technique and your ear. But in the end, throw your whole self into your playing, make it as beautiful as you can, and take your focus off the notes themselves. Ironcially, when you do that, you may find the notes start to fall into place.

Horror Stories From the Piano, 2nd Edition

 

Once again, in time for Halloween, here are some really SCARY stories from piano lessons, as related to me by current or former students from their lessons with previous teachers.

The teacher who would just "show" things to the student. For example, the teacher showed him how to play certain chords as he needed them to play the music they were working on. So the student learned a G chord, a B-flat chord, etc. The student correctly guessed that there must be some "system" to all these chords, and expressed to his teacher his interest in learning that system, instead of just getting them piecemeal. The teacher kind of groaned and said, "Oh, the learning curve is just too steep." At the same time, the teacher would be working on some piece with the student and say, "you see, it's all just chords," as if that would make it easier to understand. But since the teacher never really taught chords in a meaningful way, that statement only confused the student further. The teacher did have a background in music theory so he knew about chord theory, but he was just too lazy to teach it. 

The teacher who told the student that if he struck a note hard, with extra force and emphasis, that it would create a shot of dopamine in the brain, which would make it easier to find that note in the future. His premise was that if you were having trouble with accuracy, the dopamine hit would help. There are so many problems with this! First, although dopamine does have to do with search and reward, it wouldn't have any relationship to how loud or hard you played the note. Second, what if you have trouble with accuracy on lots of notes, as this student certainly did. Are you supposed to play them all louder and harder? Are you supposed to do it once or more often? When do you stop doing it? How do you prevent it from becoming habit? When one note is hit harder, it disrupts the phrase and is not pleasant to hear. Sadly, this student did develop a habit of hitting certain random notes harder and the effect is terribly unmusical. If the "dopamine" thing had really worked, he wouldn't still be having the accuracy issue. The teacher was, quite frankly, spouting bullshit.

The teacher who dropped the student because she said the student made her nervous. The student was somewhat nervous about playing in front of the teacher (as many students are, at least in the beginning), but instead of working to encourage and calm the student, the teacher decided she couldn't be bothered and just dropped her.

A woman came to see me about lessons whose teacher had her play almost all twelve of the Clementi Sonatinas, as well as a bit of Haydn and easier Mozart, in other words, all music of the same period. She played one for me and her playing was somewhat robotic, not musical at all. (I doubt the teacher worked on the musicality.) If you just love this music then go ahead and play it, but be aware you will never gain a broad range of technical and musical skills from this one style alone. This became the student's comfort zone, and when I suggested we do some Schumann, she looked skeptical. She never did start lessons with me.

And here, I will give you, verbatim, how one of my students described her previous lessons. The lack of caring, in particular, is shocking. (This student is very musical, really loves music and the piano in particular, is very enthusiastic, fun-loving, and aims to everything she does with dedication and high quality. Thank goodness these teachers didn't ruin her love for music.)

My first piano teacher gets special mention for tearing sheet music from a book (whose binding was failing) and giving that to me to play from, and for instructing me to “move my butt” on the seat in dramatic performance while playing. I was with her less than a year. I still have that sheet music (Classical) and I ache and cringe every time I see the reminder of her destruction; I feel so bad for the music.

My second teacher caused me to miss my first recital with her studio (and my first piano recital ever) because she did not actually specify the venue and was unreachable day of. 

She did not insist I learn music theory, and did not reinforce music theory principles essential to musicality and performance, and yet thought I could learn pieces well enough to accompany singers like her; I never did learn them well enough. Her studio was her sole livelihood, so when she canceled a lesson, she did not offer a make up [or give a refund], claiming that any make ups had to be made up in the month that they were missed, regardless of who canceled them.

 Although my first three teachers assigned Hanon, the third took it to an extreme. She challenged me to play the first 20 in less than 15 minutes (no repeats at least) in the space of a few months, and after I accomplished that feat, said she’d only extended to three of the dozens of students in her “studio”, and that it was a tool for her to gauge how much to invest in the students. Imagine my surprise when after that, she still declined to provide a curriculum for me or even to field questions about my curriculum and took offense to my making my own curriculum from books that she did not have in her possession. 

She conducted my lessons at my home; she sat several feet behind me, rarely demonstrated anything, rarely provided actual feedback beyond checkboxes. 

She pressed me to take the ABRSM [Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music] exams and then forgot to register me and took offense when I elected to register independently. 

She started me with John Thompson’s grade 1, although I had been playing for decades, would listen to me play through once, and if she was content, moved me on to the next piece in the sequence. 

One memorable episode: recital season was upon us and we were evaluating a venue, and conducting the lesson there rather than my home, and she spent more time inspecting the venue and wandering around than coaching my performance; she took offense when I called her on it. Her student roster was long enough and included enough small children that she divided the group into three one-hour recitals, punctuated with students-versus-parents musical trivia questions, keeping score. I was the only adult performer in my section. She justified it or attempted to mollify me that I was inspiring to the much younger children (as in age 4 or 5).

She encouraged competition for number of minutes of “practice” time across all the students in her studio, with prizes for levels of attainment and getting most practice time. She counted as practice time not just practice at the piano with fingers on the keyboard, but also transcription, research, completing theory worksheets, arrangement, and composition. 

She had a performance heavy schedule for her students (some kind of performance recording every month) that she claimed as optional opportunities, and when I indicated that I would only participate in a very few, she took offense.

 

I eventually learned that her studio location was a tiny, tiny room sublet from another business in a large office building, furnished with an electric keyboard and camera that her students came to (if they did not have an instrument in their possession) so that she could conduct lessons remotely from her rental apartment in Korea while she spent months with Korean orphans multiple times a year. I had an instrument in my home, so we had our lessons with her on an app I’d never heard of.

 

She encouraged me to play as many pianos as possible to find out what I liked in a piano, and after I had confided my tastes, she forwarded me an advertisement that claimed to be someone giving away the type of piano that I preferred after minimal thought or investigation by her, and which turned out to be a scam advertisement. (I did not lose any money, fortunately.) She blamed the situation on a trusted associate forwarding the advertisement to her, thus bypassing any due diligence on her part.

 

When I eventually asked the hard questions about the future of our relationship and she again declined to take responsibility, she berated me (the terminating client) at length after claiming that she never berated terminating clients.

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These stories make me so sad, and so angry as well. I feel badly for these people who trusted these teachers. They lost valuable time that could have been spent more productively through no fault of their own. I wish I could say that teachers like these are a thing of the past, but unfortunately they aren't. I'll probably be writing the 3rd edition of Horror Stories next Halloween.

Caring

 

Over the years I've heard many stories, from students or other acquaintances, about their past piano teachers, and in some cases those stories included unkindness, and even a degree of cruelty, towards the student on the part of the teacher.

There is absolutely no excuse for this. In earlier times, corporal punishment and verbal cruelty were considered "necessary" for the disciplining of the students. Now we know how utterly harmful this is. Luckily, at least in the U.S., if this were to happen in a public school it would come to someone's attention and the teacher would be fired (or so we hope).

But if it happens in a private lesson, it's different story.

Thankfully, none of my students experienced physical harm during their previous lessons, but many experienced insults, criticism, and a lack of consideration from their teachers. Sometimes the teacher has such a high opinion of themself that they view their students as beneath them, which somehow entitles them to be high-handed in their approach. Besides the fact that it is just wrong, I don't know how anyone could actually learn in that environment. 

The teacher must show care and understanding towards the student. Of course this applies to both children and adults. If you don't like children, or find teaching to be too aggravating, you have no business being a teacher. Yet there are teachers who teach, from financial necessity or other reasons, but who don't really like teaching. 

Not only does your teacher need to be kind, but they should be very personally invested in your learning, your progress, and your enjoyment of the experience of making music. If they are dismissive of your efforts, or tell you that you just aren't talented enough, they are not doing their job.

If you read my post from October 2022 titled Horror Stories from the Piano, you will hear some of these sad tales. In the coming days, in time for Halloween, I will be posting my second annual Horror Stories from the Piano. Stay tuned.

I'm writing this so that any of you reading my blog who might be experiencing mistreatment from your teacher can realize that it isn't normal, and immediately find a new teacher. If you have children who are taking private piano lessons, either sit in on lessons frequently, or ask your child for details about the lessons, or both, so you can make sure your child's teacher is kind and caring towards them, at the very least.

You know the saying, "No one cares how much you know until they know how much you care."

Trills and Tremelos

 

Being able to do a trill or a tremelo is an essential technical skill if you want to play advanced music. Every era of Classical music has them. Having a really fast -- and beautiful -- trill is a worthwhile goal.

A trill is usually between two adjacent tones; a tremelo is between two tones further apart, usually an octave. But the concept is the same. They are always fast, and they are NOT measured, which means they do not fall evenly into sixteenth or thirty-second or sixty-fourth notes and do not line up in an even way with what is going on the other hand, for example; instead they are free-form. It is this free and un-measured quality which gives them their excitement and almost ecstatic quality. They often come at a part of the music that has been building to a climax. (I am referring here to a trill which goes on for several beats, not just a simple turn of three notes. Technically that is not considered a trill.)

There are many other examples in our music which are not intended to be measured, such as grace notes. You, the pianist, have the freedom to make them a little faster or a little slower, depending on the character of the music, but they are not a specific speed. If they were intended to be measured and even, the composer would simply write them that way. The small notes you see used for grace notes, mordents and other ornaments indicates that they are un-measured.

Earlier today I came across someone's blog who said a trill should measured, and needs to work out evenly so that you always have the same note coming on the beat, for example. Nothing could be more wrong! This would make your trill sound amateurish and stiff. I'm thinking of a gorgeous piece by Debussy titled L'isle Joyeuse (Isle of Joy) which opens with a long solo trill lasting half the measure. It beautifully conveys the joy that the piece is about. You don't even get a sense of the beat until the end of the measure. If it were measured it would be a completely different feeling. There is no question that Debussy would have intended it to be free ( he was once quoted as having said "I have no use for German bookkeeping.").

In the same post this person said that to get clarity in the trill, you need to lift your fingers. Again, nothing could be more wrong. If the trill is to be fast, you must be efficient. Lifting your fingers any distance off the keys will cause loss of efficiency. Think of an Olympic skier in the slalom race, where they have to ski around a series of gates. They need to get as close to the gate as possible; even a few inches too wide will cause them to lose a tiny fraction of a second and will make the difference between winning or not. Maximum efficiency means being close to the keys. It's just physics. You don't need to worry that the sound will be blurred; you want to be playing so fast that the listener doesn't really hear the trill as individual notes.

Here is how I teach trills. Take the two notes of the trill and play them blocked, meaning together at the same time. You need to use your whole arm, not just fingers. Then, think of how it feels when you are skip a stone on a lake; you have one impulse (the throw) and then several "bounces." Let there be several bounces (not too many) off the first impulse. When the bounces occur, you need to stay as close to the keys as possible. After all, it just makes sense that if you bounce high off the keys there will be too much time between bounces. After you have the hang of this, just let the notes come out separately, but try to keep it feeling almost identical to how it felt when it was blocked. You'll be tempted to try to do something to get the notes to separate, but just try to keep the feeling of one impulse. When your bounces get really fast, meaning as little time between them as possible, you have the beginnings of a fast trill. 

There are many people who will tell you the trill is done solely with the fingers. There are some who can do this. But for the average person, you will find that soon the small muscles of the fingers tire and even seize up. Using the arm gives you the power to keep going without pain or fatigue.

A tremelo is essentially the same and I recommend the same method. I've heard many people say that a tremelo with an octave requires that you use forearm rotation, which means the radius bone rotates over the ulna. They even say to exaggerate the rotation when you are practicing. However, rotation is extremely inefficient. You are tipping the forearm (and therefore the hand) towards the pinky side and then towards the thumb side, which means almost your whole hand is far away from the keys. Again, there is no way your tremelo can be fast unless you stay close to the keys. 

I want to emphasize again that, while you might want to see a video of what I am describing, I am still not including videos in my posts. I don't want my readers to think you can learn to play the piano online by watching videos. You need to have a teacher by your side who is watching your hands and arms in order to correct and refine your technique. What I present here is hopefully giving you ideas for experimentation, or perhaps to explain why you may feel you are not making progress if you are using methods that you have been taught in the past and which do not work. 

Musical Architecture

 

If you ever had a "Music Appreciation" class, or something similar, in college or elsewhere, your teacher or professor probably talked about musical forms, such as "sonata form." She/he would point out the main sections into which the piece of music is divided, and explain the names we give each section such as exposition, development, etc. Or maybe you read about this in a book on music theory. Interesting, but potentially pretty dry stuff.

Maybe you never had such a class, but if you have been playing an instrument or even just listening to classical music, you sense that there is a structure to the music. Even a very short piece, or a popular song, has a structure. You might liken it to a small simple house. A large piece, such as a symphony, by its very nature must be more complex in its structure. You might liken it to a cathedral. 

I like to call this "musical architecture."

Why does music even need architecture? If you think of a painting, you see all the elements all at once, so you can see how everything relates to everything else. You can see what is in the foreground, what is in the background, what the painter wants you to notice first, perhaps. In music, since it unfolds over time, we must have a way for our brains to tie it all together. This happens by relating what we are hearing now to what we heard earlier. The use of recurring themes, and their development, is one of the ways this happens.

You may ask, "is it necesssary to know about this to play the piano?" I could say that you could get by without knowing a thing about musical architecture. If you play with emotional engagement, and have solid technique, you could play beautifully without knowing anything about how the music you are playing is organized. But why would you?  Hopefully, you would want to know what makes it so beautiful, so fulfilling.

The musical architecture of a piece of music is one of the aspects -- arguably the most important aspect -- that makes the music great. The cathedral may have gorgeous stained glass windows and incredible carved decorations, but it is the architecture itself which makes it inspiring and awe-inducing.

Instead of studying it away from your instrument, why not learn about musical architecture as you play. One of the best ways to do this is by "outlining" the piece as you start to learn it. Essentially, you play a "sketch" of the piece by choosing to play the main elements, and omit all smaller details. 

In our music, the structure is inherently tied to the harmonies. If you play a single-line instrument such as the flute, it will be much harder to hear the harmonies because it would be other instruments (the orchestra, or a piano) who would be supplying most of it. But a pianist will always be playing the harmony. Therefore, to do an outline, you are playing the basic harmonic progressions of the piece. A good way to start, if you are new to this, is to play what comes on the first beat of every measure. You must be playing hands together to hear the full harmony. If you read my post on the measure, you will see that the measure is a meaningful unit. What happens on the first beat of the measure is likely to be an important part of the structure. There are exceptions, of course, but you can assume it's a good way to start. Gradually you add more details. See my earlier post on outlining for more on this powerful tool.

When you play a "sparse" outline, uncluttered, so to speak, by all the details (beautiful though they may be), you can start to hear the main themes that the composer is employing. These themes, as mentioned above, are the way in which the composer ties the whole thing together, makes it sound cohesive and logical, rather than rambling, or stream of consciousness.

But "wait!" you say..... aren't the themes made of the melodies rather than the harmonies? Yes, but all melodies have harmony as their basis. Think of the famous opening of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. In the first four notes, G-G-G-E flat, we hear a C minor chord (the I chord, since C minor is the key of the piece), and in the next four notes, F-F-F-D, we hear a G7 chord (the dominant, or V chord) of the piece. So even with just these few notes, not only has the tonality been established, but the main theme of the piece has been introduced, and this theme will be used and developed in myriad ways throughout. It is this devlopment which builds the forward momentum and fuels the dramatic climaxes that we hear in the music. In fact, it has been said (and I agree) that the particular genius of Beethoven is his architecture.

But I digress. When you start to learn a new piece, make sure you don't overwhelm yourself with so many notes that you can't hear the underlying themes and harmonies. Although I don't believe in "interpretation" as a solely intellectual activity, I do believe that hearing -- and understanding -- the architecture of the piece will influence your interpretation and make you a better musician.