Musical reminiscence

How does music reside in memory? In what specific form is a melody embedded in our brain? I always found these questions fascinating, but something I listened to today brought home these questions in more vivid terms:

When I was a child, there was a TV show on Greek television. I never really watched it, and I could not even remember what it was called. BUT, I did remember a theme played on the harpsichord at the end-credits. It's strange; this theme has ever since remained "intact" in my head, down to the smallest detail - in fact,  I could (still can) play it by ear on the piano. And today, some 20 years on, I bumped into it on the internet! And I listened to it again after such a long time of keeping it vividly in my memory for so many years. I really cannot grasp the mechanics of such a mysterious procedure. I can only say that music is a powerful thing, much more powerful than it may seem to be. For it affects in a decisive way not just our emotional world, but our whole being in ways that are really beyond comprehension. 

Just for the record, here is the theme...

 

Rachmaninov's Rach 3: Cadenza recording...

This is one of the most exciting things I've ever played! It's perhaps interesting to know that Rachmaninoff actually composed two cadenzas for the 1st movement and many pianists prefer the ossia version; yet I think that this one (the one here below) is more original and light and, most importantly, allows for a more convincing crescendo. Here is what Geoffrey Norris has to say on this (excerpt taken from his excellent book on Rachmaninoff):

"Rachmaninoff composed two versions of the first part of the cadenza. One is 59 bars long with an intricate passage work; the other has 75 bars, is chordal throughout and is considerably more taxing (...) The numbering of the pages in the manuscript indicates that the longer cadenza was the composer's first choice, but presumably the necessity to fit the concerto conveniently  on to 78 rpm records compelled him to choose the shorter one, or maybe Rachmaninoff simply felt that enough power had been generated elsewhere and that lightness provided an agreeable contrast.  Both versions achieve the same purpose in providing a suitable platform for displays  of virtuosity and in commenting adequately upon the motifs from the first subject". 

I am not convinced that the longer version was the composer's first choice but it's of no importance really. 

So, here is an excerpt from the [short] cadenza (I had to stop when the orchestra comes in, for obvious reasons!). 

Any comments are most welcome!

 

Stanford: Magnificat in G

I am not very familiar with Charles Stanford's music - though I should be since he taught for many years at the Royal College of Music (where I studied)... But I am very fond of this Magnificat in G. The beginning is so uplifting: the  calm, staccato arpeggios played by the organ, and the child's treble voice on top - the personification of purity and meekness-, all these speak directly to my heart. And the final chorale ("glory be to the Father...") is really majestic and magnificent! 
The best recording I have so far come across is the one here below, with King's College Choir, Cambridge: 

The case of Valentina Lisitsa

I don't think there is a single pianist with an internet access who does not know the Ukrainian pianist Valentina Lisitsa! The extraordinary thing about this girl is that she was made known not through winning prestigious competitions or through experienced agents but almost exclusively through youtube! It must be the only case of a truly "virtual" career! 

Of course, now she is playing everywhere (she has a recital in the Royal Albert Hall this coming June), although I don't think she has any plans to visit Greece! 

She is outrageously  talented, not doubt about that. It seems to me that she has to the fullest extent this very special Russian quality that only people from these countries (ex-Soviet Union) seem to possess: an incredible dynamism matched with a "masculine" (I cannot find a better word) musicality; Valentina's Rachmaninoff probably best summarises her musical qualities: listen, for instance, to this rendering of R's etude-tableau op. 39 no 6. 

I've played that piece myself many times, and I am well aware of its great difficulty. What strikes me in Valentina's recording is not so much her technical achievement (she plays it as fast as it can really get!) but the fact that she has a very clear idea of what she wants to do and why. As I read  in  a review for one of her concerts, "she uses her vistuosity to express, not to impress". 
Clarity of thought, intelligent decisions, daring interpretational choices - these are the perfect ingredients for a unique and masterful recording. 

Rachmaninoff Third Piano Concerto (part 1)

I have been practising Rach 3 for some time now... I am playing the piece on Feb the 20th, in a concert hall in Athens. Not with an orchestra (alas!) but with a second piano. It's actually a quite clever arrangement, I think: in the first part of the concert, I am playing the aforementioned work while in the second part, the pianist who accompanies me will play his piano concerto (Chopin 2) and I will be his "orchestra". We began rehearsals some months ago, and it seems to me that the "project" (quite unusual, by Greek standards at least!) is going fairly well.

I played Rach Three about 10 years ago (in Athens and in London), but things are not that easy any more, in terms of practising! (full time work, three children...). Anyhow, I am doing my best to play this wonderful concert as well as I can. 

It is, in my view, Rachmaninoff's best piano concerto, greater than the Second in terms of maturity and musicality. It is also technically the hardest. For me, the main challenge is to be able to play it through to the end without getting really exhausted. I still have about 15 days to go, so I am not that stressed yet!! 

There are so many things I 'd like to write about this concerto, so let's call this post "part 1", and I will continue...

Best Moment from the "Thirty Two Short Films on Glenn Gould"

I always found this film by Francois Girard so strange and at the same time so fascinating! These are 32 snap-shots in the life and music of Glenn Gould. Some of them I fail completely to understand; others I find moving; others I find utterly successful in terms of depicting the "reality" of this great pianist. 

By far the best "moment" in this film is , in my view, the extract here below. In just four minutes Girard manages to convey so many elements of Gould's life: his seclusive life-style, his wit, the obsession with his health, his eccentricity, and, above all, the way he chose to communicate with the other people: not simply through his music but through his records. The relationship between him and the cleaner is transformed to another dimension by the end of the piece (it's Beethoven by the way) and she is gradually (and so charmingly!) "won" by his music, but the point that Girard wants to make is that the means and vehicle of this transformation is a record, not any kind of direct communication. This was Gould! 

Thoughts after a concert... Bach's Concerto After Marcello

Just came home from a concert where I played Bach  (Concerto after Marcello in D Minor) and Brahms (Intermezzo op.117 no 1). Brahms was more or less ok, while with Bach I felt sort of uncomfortable, especially in the first movement. I've played this piece many times in the past but only a few times did I feel that the result was satisfactory. 

What I try to do (and it's not easy!) is not to imitate Glenn Gould's performance. (from his "Italian Bach"- one of his best records, in my view). He does incredible things in this recording, yet the challenge of the performer is to develop a sense of detachment from his sound, and try to find new things and new perspectives. And yet I must admit that I am so influenced by him and so persuasive do I find his reading of Concerto after Marcello that all too often I unconsciously [and hopelessly] try to do what he does. 
Yet there is another, more subtle danger for a pianist: to try and do the opposite of what another (usually great) pianist is doing. In an effort to distance from someone else's playing, one can play things differenetly just for the sake of doing that. So, for instance, Gould plays it staccato here - I'll play legato; Richter brings out an inner melodic line- I'll try to cover it a bit. And so on... 
What's the conclusion? It's quite simple (to say it at least!): Find your self, look for your individual uniqueness, be genuine.