Virto .. virtuo.. what? (Thoughts on development of pianistic techniques)

The last few days have been grueling for me, practising my Rapsodias, some of them I've never played before. No no, not because I feel "examined" by the young pianists who are coming to my concert next Sunday who, most of them, have played or studied at least one Rapsodia of mine. They should not expect the composer to be the best interpreter of his own works, especially if we talk about the virtuosity (oh, oh, what an excuse eh, some of you might be thinking right now). We composers usually are too lazy to practice our own pieces, I personally feel much more responsibility in playing other people's work, not because they aren't mine, but because I always admire them more than my works. And I don't think this is due to the fact that the neighbour's grass is greener (except if your neighbour put lots of sh*t to fertilize it!), but because I always learn a lot from those works of Haydn, Rachmaninov, Busoni etc. They inspire me. The only thing I learned from studying my own pieces is what NOT to do in my next pieces :( .............................................................................................................................................. I have heard incredible performances by young(er) people on my Rapsodia, or other works of mine. And I haven't got used to Henoch Kristianto's new CD of my works, it is, for me, still admirable. Indeed, their virtuosity is stunning. But is that so unusual these days? Perhaps not. ............................................................................................................................................ The overall level of technical proficiency in instrumental playing, especially on the piano, has increased steadily over time. Many pianists and piano teachers friends of mine have noted the phenomenon, which is not unlike what happens in sports. Records keep being broken, barriers are renewed all the time. Something similar has long been occurring with pianists. And in the last decade or so the growth of technical proficiency has seemed exponential. ............................................................................................................................................ What long-term effect this trend will have on the field is not clear. Unlike in Asia, especially Indonesia where audience is growing, classical music in Europe is facing its challenges, including declining appreciation among the general (especially young) public, and not all segments of the audience are noticing the breakthrough in technical accomplishment that is apparent to insiders: pianists, concert presenters and piano freaks. Because so many pianists are so good, many concertgoers have simply come to expect that any soloist playing the Liszt or Tchaikovsky Concerto will be a phenomenal technician. A new level of technical excellence is expected of emerging pianists. I see it not just on the concert circuit but also at conservatories and colleges. In recent years, at my masterclasses or recital programs at some conservatories that I visited as guest teachers, I have repeatedly been struck by the sheer level of instrumental expertise that seems a given. Certainly a phenomenon is taking place. I remember back in 1990s when the movie “Shine,” about the mentally ill pianist David Helfgott, raised curiosity about Rachmaninov’s 3rd Piano Concerto, a Juilliard professor Jerome Lowenthal was asked by reporters whether this piece was as formidably difficult as the movie had suggested. He had two answers: “One was that this piece truly is terribly hard. Two was that all my 16-year-old students were playing it.” ............................................................................................................................................ What role do composers play in all this? A lot, I think. Along the history, composers always push at the boundaries: Someone creates a work of extraordinary difficulty that seems unplayable and then, simply because it exists, people rise to the occasion, and we find that it was indeed possible. But of course, it has to be the composers themselves first who had to prove it, unfortunately : at least Liszt and Busoni did. But has it always been like that? Nope, don't think so. Rachmaninov said about Vladimir Horowitz's playing of his 3rd concerto: "This is the way I always dreamed my concerto should be played, but I never expected to hear it that way on Earth" (I quote it from freerepublic.com, but apparently this statement appears in other pages too). Britten's excellent piano concerto, too, relied on Svjatoslav Richter for its formidable interpretation (by the way, do you know that the incredible recording that we know now was taken during a live performance?). It didn't take off that brilliantly when Britten himself premiered it. .............................................................................................................................................. I think a reason that pianists are getting technically stronger is that as in sports, young pianists are just learning to practice the craft better, becoming better conditioned and getting better results due to the toughness of competitions, and that pianists are rising to the challenges of new music that push boundaries. If we see it in historical context, the first several decades of the 20th century are considered a golden era by many piano buffs, a time when artistic imagination and musical richness were valued more than technical perfection. There were certainly pianists during that period who had exquisite, impressive technique, like Busoni and Rachmaninov. And white-hot virtuosos like the young Vladimir Horowitz wowed the public, but the audience tolerated a lot of playing that would be considered sloppy today. Listen to 1920s and ’30s recordings of the pianist Alfred Cortot, immensely respected in his day. He would probably not be admitted to any European conservatory now. Despite the refinement and élan in his playing, his recording of Chopin’s 24 études from the early 1930s is, by today’s standards, littered with clinkers. These days playing the Chopin études with comfort is practically a basic requirement for passing the first round of any competition. ............................................................................................................................................ There is a danger in pursuing perfection. After Van Cliburn won the 1958 Tchaikovsky Competition and became a household name, every young pianist saw competitions as the route to fame and success. A new generation worked tirelessly to achieve technical flawlessness. Critics found that many of these young pianists had “competition chops” but not much else to offer. During every era of the piano there were players who were superb artists with more on their minds than dazzling virtuosity. You might divide pianists into two basic groups: those who have the technique to play anything and those who have all the technique they need, thank you, to play the music that is meaningful to them.And now, since only in China itself there are more than 1 million young pianists who can play ALL the right notes, a new breed of pianists are searching something new. A new expressivity, a new kind of artistry, and a new kind of REPERTOIRE. The fact that they are all active right now suggests that a new level of conquering the piano is taking place. You could argue that younger performers are expanding the boundaries of technique in other instruments as well. But singers are the exception to this trend. One obvious reason is that while the instruments themselves have not changed that much in the last century, every voice is unique to a person and a body. Though there are certain time-tested principles, each singer must come to terms with his or her own voice.But let me tell you my opinions about singers later, after I finish my concert this Sunday. Right now, I have to struggle with those crazy jumping chords, strange arpeggios, weird running notes all modulating to places where no man have gone before. And unfortunately, all those problems are all created by me. As John Lennon put it, you might say I am a dreamer. But I'm not the only one.

Dedication

Now that Henoch Kristianto's CD of my piano music is released, not only with 6 of my Rapsies but also with my other pieces each dedicated to someone, most compliments that I got are not only how good they are performed, but how lucky are those people who received dedications of my pieces. Well, perhaps some of them are. This issue brings me back many years ago, and I almost forgot about it. When I was in the beginning of my career, it was very important for me to receive a dedication from prominent composers. And of course one can't go around pulling the composer's shirts shouting "dedicate a piece to me pleeeaazzze", it just gotta come from the composer himself, or if you are rich, you can commission a composer to write one for you, like all those royal families in the past or the Medici family, or patrons of the arts have been doing. Or you can commission a composer to write something ABOUT and FOR your loved ones. The process is exactly the same as asking a painter to paint a portrait of yourself or your love ones. ............................................................................................................................................ Playing "my" pieces written by them indeed boosted the number of audience, my reputation and therefore my career. The audience are sick of the same Beethovens n Chopins in concerts and they always welcome new GOOD pieces of music. Many of those pieces dedicated to me are a kind of "portrait" of the characteristic of my playing which the composers see in me and not in other pianists, and that I somehow inspired them to do it. Therefore, I can mention pieces by European composers which sound pretty "Indonesian" because of, and written for me, such as "Many Returns to Bali" by Per Norgaard (Denmark), Little Passacaglia by Peter Sculthorpe (Australia), Alio Modo by David del Puerto, Kecak Sonata by Jesus Rueda, and even that celebrated hyper-virtuosic piece Anandamania by Santiago Lanchares and many others. I am indeed grateful that I have contributed something to the development of modern pianistic techniques. Of course as a pianist those dedications come with a (huge) responsibility, since it is my task to introduce those pieces to the audience, otherwise it won't mean anything to have them. Those pieces were then accepted by other pianists who later perform them, but the birth of the piece, and how it gives the first impression, is very important and I am responsible for it. Of course the attraction of the pieces play a major role in its popularity ; the hyper-virtuosic and noisy Anandamania was so much high in demand that I've played it, usually together with the Ligeti Etudes, in more than 100 concerts and not only in Spain or even Europe. That piece alone, breaks the record of my most frequently performed piece, even more than my own ones (writing this, I now wonder if I ever played it in Indonesia). Some of those composers then wrote more pieces of music for me either for professional reasons or just as a "token of gratitude", and somehow I became "identified" with their piano music and received contracts to record their complete piano music on CD. Ah, some of them were so sweet to write (sometimes more than) a few notes dedicated to my daughter, Alicia Pirena, knowing that she used to play the piano too. Needless to say, it wasn't written for her virtuosity, but just an act of love. Usually those composers did it because they have spent some time at our home in Cantabria so they got to know her too. ............................................................................................................................................ But some of my "dedication" pieces are written not for musicians, but purely out of friendship or gratitude. Even if they are for musicians, it can be for just as simple as that, not for professional purposes. You see, I hate going to department stores, let alone shopping malls to buy presents for birthdays or weddings, and I prefer staying in bed writing music. If I give someone my music, there are some advantages for both of us: 1. usually that person knows, and likes, my music, so (s)he would like my present. 2. Now don't say that I am not spending anything. I do spend my time, and time is money. But with music, spending doesn't mean losing, and we both receive, since I don't lose anything. My time writing it usually gives me pleasure, or even therapeutic for my Tourette/Asperger syndrome when it's concurrent. 3. That "present" hopefully will be beneficial not to the receiver, but to other people, coz if it turns out to be nice it will be played by many others, therefore it is a good material either for educational or concert purposes. It is in fact a tradition in Europe to do it, perhaps the most celebrated is Edward Elgar's Enigma Variations, where each movement is dedicated, in his own words to "my friends pictured within", each variation being an affectionate portrayal of one of his circle of close acquaintances. Leonard Bernstein wrote his charming short piano pieces "Anniversaries", with each bearing a simple title "For ...", filling the blank with the name of the (nick)name of the dedicatee. In fact, it is those pieces which triggered me to do those "musical cards" which at the moment sums up to around 40+ short pieces. And 4. now it's helping to save the earth, since a musical score doesn't have to be printed on paper anymore, although poco a poco I am including them in my "Alicia's Piano Books". ............................................................................................................................................ If I write for someone, usually something in that person triggered me to write, although there are a few cases that I found a manuscript I wrote ages ago, and decided I'd dedicate it to someone, sometimes for some random reasons. And if I get the character of the piece formed in my head, I would need a concrete material for it to be developed, and usually I use their names/initials to make a motif. But hey, it doesn't have to be that way. It could be the subject of our conversation, or the place or situation where we had our chat. And I don't care who is that person, as long as (s)he means something for me. A good friend, or someone who's been kind to me. Instead of sending flowers after a dinner invitation, I could just write a musical card, if something we talked during dinner could inspire me. That piece of music usually is a record, or musical photograph of what was happening around the writing process. And if I want to express something so deep that words are not able to do, well, music is always the best means to do it. Music is so powerful to express things that can't be done in words, and mostly it's about the pain so intense inside. And in writing music for and about someone, usually I realize more things about myself in that piece. That's why the act of composing can be so scary, sometimes. Sometimes. ............................................................................................................................................ Ah yes, I am also playing some of those "dedicatorial pieces" in my concert next October 20th. Still not sure which ones, though. I am doing a survey through twitter about which are the favorite ones. You can tweet me at @anandasukarlan ... just let me know which ones you like me to do in the concert. If more people want the piece, certainly I'll play it/them. More info about the concert, and ticket reservations, please contact my manager Chendra at 0818 891038 or ycep@yahoo.com