niedziela, 21 stycznia 2018

Seven Cardinal Sins of Ensemble Performances

Prof. Jerzy Marchwiński


Seven Cardinal Sins of Ensemble Performances

            The Decalogue and Seven Cardinal Sins are two sets of guidance’s or commandments which hopefully can serve as a foundation for successful group co-existence. The Sins – just to remind the reader - include pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth. Irrespective of the religious context, they make up a universal memento worth of keeping in mind. Their avoidance should at least provide a chance for co-existence which would be creative, successful and simply human, in the plainest sense of the word. However, one should be aware right at the beginning that the world without them is just a dream, or even a Utopia.
            My personal Decalogue, or rather the Dodecalogue of Partnership in Music includes a list of fundamental values which support successful partnership. This article will discuss in more detail the list of seven cardinal sins of ensemble performances. I hope that the Dodecalogue together with this list of sins will prove useful to persons who seek concrete professional guidance.

            The First Sin is the insufficient preparation of the musical work and it may well be the most dangerous one. Contrary to the general opinion, it is not possible to perform an ensemble work after practising it just a couple of times or simply playing it a vista; actually, it seems possible, but only for certain performers. In my view, however, such performance is just a cheap musical equivalent of fast food.
             The perfect preparation to a performance should be a duty encoded in the mentality of each artist for a lifetime, whether the plays solo or in an ensemble and whether he is endowed with a huge talent or just with a modest skill.
Masterful piano performances such as Gieseking’s partnership with Elizabeth Schwarzkopf in Mozart’s Songs, or Alicia de Larrocha partnering Victoria de los Angeles in Songs by de Falla are live examples of great art created by a pianist and a singer. Schwarzkopf told me once how much she was impressed by the several weeks’ long work of Gieseking on the piano part of these Songs.
I am deeply convinced that there is a huge difference between partnering a singer while playing from the score and by heart. A pianist performing by heart has many measurable opportunities to focus on better and more efficient sound of the piano, to listen to the partner and even to maintain eye contact with him or her. In addition to that, a performer playing by heart gives an impression of a partnering pianist and stands in contrast to an accompanist who has his eyes glued to the score stand with – heaven forbid – a page turner sitting at his side. Frankly speaking, a page turner creates an obvious dissonance, although at times his assistance is indispensable. In my view, the presence of two artists on stage is almost as intimate as a love act. The page turner is the odd man in such configuration! I know that it seems like my idiosyncrasy, but in fact I am not alone in my views.
I have to admit that even during the delightful performance of Brahms’ Zigeunerlieder by Christa Ludwig and the great Leonard Bernstein, the page turner who assisted him when he played from the score clearly created a dissonance in the image of true partnership. I just felt dispirited. On the other hand, I will never forget Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto performed in Warsaw by Itzhak Perlman with awesome Zubin Mehta who was conducting the orchestra by heart. It felt like listening to an almost unknown work. Absolute mastery!
My preferences are not so common and I am well aware of that. For me, and perhaps for some other listeners too, a concert is not only an encounter with the sound of music. If it were so, a recording would be perfectly satisfactory. A concert is a happening, an artistic adventure for a person who comes to the Philharmonic not to “appraise” the performance but to experience a gift of extraordinary beauty offered by a live artist. The adventure begins when the performers enter on stage and ends with the last guest leaving the Green Room. For this reason I feel more comfortable mentally – and not only visually – when I see two performers without scores or two performers with scores (particularly when playing sonatas). It carries a sense of sustainable partnership and a promise of an event shared by two artists and not by a soloist and an accompanist, even if the latter is the Emperor of Accompanists.
Naturally, I am aware of the problems related to playing by heart and of the necessity to overcome the understandable mental barriers. Nevertheless, in their essence they are reduced to the issue of preparing oneself. I suspect that the majority of pianists simply do not feel like tackling the job. To clarify matters further, I would like to add that my comments refer to concert or “philharmonic” performances and not to utilitarian work when the pianist co-works with other artists at examinations, auditions or various competitions which requires mastering a huge number of works.
I must admit that I have always did my best  to imprint in my students – consciously and emphatically - the habit and need to prepare themselves diligently and thoroughly to any performances. One of the most effective arguments was a question whether they would dare to play a solo on stage if they prepared it in the same way as the song or sonata just played for me in the studio. Mortification was the most common reaction to that.
Please be aware that I do not insist by any means that all musicians should play only and solely by heart.  I insist, however, that they should know all the works by heart, even if they decided for a variety of reasons to use the score at the concert. Learning a work by heart requires time, involvement and decent work and is a professional investment which always pays later. I was often asked how to achieve success in life – meaning a success in professional career. My standard answer is to get prepared perfectly and to present oneself as well as possible. A perfect performance cannot be hidden. There is always a chance that somebody will notice it, appreciate and it will become a springboard for a professional career. What is the point of working on a piece? The answer is this well-known anecdote which I often tell my students. A musician asked a passer-by how to get to Carnegie Hall. „Practice, practice, my son!”.
Naturally, a good preparation of a work is not limited to the part which is to be played by the artist. One has to learn by heart the whole work including the partners’ score. In case of performing with singers, it is also necessary to learn the text which, obviously, is the key to the interpretation of the work.
Generally, artists who are a bit less talented but come better prepared achieve much better artistic results than those with great talent and nonchalant attitude to work. Once, at one of the most prestigious international festivals I witnessed a case of failed partnership when one of the most elite orchestras led by a top ranking conductor was to play with an outstanding singer. At the one and only rehearsal the „maestro” did not grace the singer with an eye contact even once, because his eyes were literally glued to the score. Chances were, that he saw it for the first time in his life. A month later the same singer performed after many rehearsals with a much more modest orchestra and less famous conductor – but he had almost no need to consult the score. The music sounded much more beautiful and flowed more comfortably, and the partnership was just perfect. It was not the sole example which I witnessed. It seems obvious that one has to put time and effort in preparing a pierce and there are no short-cuts.
In my view, the basic scenario of getting ready for the first rehearsal – that is, the first meeting with partners – should be as follows: learn one’s own part of the work, get acquainted with the score of the whole work and if it involves singing then read the text thoroughly or even learn it by heart. It was also suggested by Richard Strauss in his Ten Golden Rules for the Album of a Young Conductor.

 The Second Sin consists in parallel playing. Each artist performs his own part of the work, often fluently and correctly, but without any relationship with the other partner. Obviously, such two soliloquies can never turn into a dialogue which an ensemble performance de facto is. This sin affects not only music performances, but also everyday life of any human being which lives together with others.
What may be the reasons for such manner of performing music? I suspect, there are two. The first one is a mental solitude of sorts. One is so focused on one’s own needs that he can do without a contact with others. In extreme cases, such contact can even become a disturbance. Perhaps it is a mentality of so-called “singles”. The other reason is the lack of information which an incompetent teacher had failed to supply.  I am deeply convinced that almost all professional details can be taught, provided that the subject is endowed with sufficient intelligence and offers no mental resistance. The only thing which cannot be taught is talent, but this is quite another story.
Frankly speaking, I have no problem or doubts with identifying parallel playing. Personally I find it dispiriting and, frankly,  irritating but I am not sure if others feel the same. It does not seem to be the case, as when I used to sit in juries of various competitions and examinations, low grades which I gave to some participants were surprising to other judges, who very favourably assessed the same persons.

            The Third Sin: Phrasing defects. The phrases are often recited without comprehending their structure and without elementary respect for the punctuation. Often, one phrase chases another while it is still sounding.
            This defect seems to be among the most common ones, appearing not only in the work of young adepts of the performing arts but also of mature artists, who have “philharmonics” experience. Generally, the time between the phrases is shortened and the declamation seems to be short of breath although the interpretation does not justify it. 
            Actually, the key issue is not the phrase itself but the space between phrases. Sometimes, a phrase can be logical and attractive, but the final effect is damaged by its relationship with the subsequent one. The performers are very often unaware of the fact that such lack of logic and, most importantly, of space is detrimental to their work. Even if one can do without such time and space, they are needed by the audience which has to comprehend the message, cope with the tension and get ready for encountering something new. If the listeners fail to get them, the joy and satisfaction derived usually from the contact with music is replaced by understandable irritation, although they are not always able to identify its source. Perhaps this is the secret reason why we adore certain performers and avoid others?
            Soloists who by definition accept all the responsibility and risk for their performances can afford certain panache in their musical declamation. They are the sole authors of the success or failure of their performance. However, ensemble musicians are in a totally different situation. Their phrasing must be clearly legible and comprehensible for the partners who, in contrast to the audience, are not passive but need to be given a chance to respond actively to the logic of the preceding utterance. Therefore, the logic of the partners is interdependent.
             I am positive that it is possible to make performers aware of this phenomenon and, consequently, to achieve a successful ensemble performance. It has been proven by many years’ experience.
           
            The Fourth Sin: Neglect and carelessness with regard to dynamics, articulation and agogics.
            Such negligence affects any type of performances including solo ones, but it becomes particularly troublesome in ensemble playing. A member of an ensemble is not the ultimate boss as far as the dynamics, articulation and agogics go. Everything becomes interdependent in the context of the partner’s utterance.
            Talking with my students, I often describe this phenomenon as the “relative dynamics.” A forte played on my own can considerably differ from a  forte played in the context offered by a partner – a signer or any instrumentalist. The same refers to the conductors, and is even more important in their case.  Orchestral forte can vary greatly – the ones in Mozart are definitely not the same as the ones on Richard Strauss.
            I avoid or even wholly give up asking to play “quietly” or “louder”; I consider them trite or just crass. The most adequate and comprehensive advice is to play “in the context” of the partner or “in relation” to him.  No two partners are alike – everybody’s voice has different character and volume, and instruments obviously differ in character as well. It is extremely important to have the option of dynamic adaptation with the partner, depending on the acoustic conditions, the instrument or the orchestra. 
           
            The Fifth Sin: Failure to learn the partners’ parts. 
            This sin is also quite common. Some of the performers of an ensemble work learn its full shape during the rehearsals (to a certain extent). The conductor and pianist are more privileged, because they have the score in front of them. Even the singer can “see” the whole song or even aria together with the piano part. On the other hand, a violinist usually plays a sonata while seeing only the notation of his own part, written on a single staff and he has no idea of what happens in the remaining part of the work. He learns about it during the rehearsals. Paradoxically, certain destructive teachers feed the students the conviction that their part is the actual solo, and the other one, that is piano, is just the accompaniment for them. Such detrimental deformation imprinted during studies tends to get rooted for the rest of the life. It creates a false image of the relationship between the musicians and, which is worst, dramatically deforms the quality of the final effect, even in the case of mature, independent artists. It is a great fault of mistaken teaching, petrified in the tradition which is definitely wrong.  Following it, certain false teachers convince their students with zeal that Beethoven’s Sonatas are works for the violin with piano accompaniment. It is so harmful and distant from the creative concept of partnership in music! The more so, that Beethoven wrote his sonatas für Klavier und Violine, and Mozart openly emphasized that his sonatas are für Klavier mit Violine obligato!

            The Sixth Sin: The failure to notice that all the performers are  playing the same piece together, and not each to his own.
            One of the main reasons of this common misconception is undoubtedly the well-rooted subdivision of ensemble pieces into the parts of a so-called soloist and so-called accompanist. Naturally, the word “part” is a great simplification of the music to be played by each of the performers: a violinist, a violist or a cellist. Using it is risky: it encourages the idea of splitting a musical work into separate elements. The re-unification of the work requires the awareness that even a single pizzicato is not a separate sound but a significant element of the dramatic structure of the whole piece.
            I do my best to ingrain in my students the imperative to study the piece from a full score. An instrumentalist hardly ever sees the whole score, he just hears the piece and it usually happens after a number of ensemble rehearsals. A pianist does not have such problem because his score always includes the full piece. However, he has another challenge which I always emphasize. He has to develop a habit, or even a skill and a sense of duty to monitor the whole score on an ongoing basis, just as a conductor does it. It often involves the parallel, panoramic tracking of five staves. The signers also track their own part and the score of the pianist, harpsichordist or organist, or even the ensemble. The main problem is posed by the score prepared for an instrumentalist which is usually reduced to a single staff. In order to have the concept of the whole work, it is indispensable to study the whole score, for instance from the piano part which in fact includes the whole notation, or from the ensemble score (starting from a duo).
            The above challenges and reasons are of concrete and direct character. However, the main problem seems to lie in the awareness and imagination and in the ability to hear and understand the work solely from the score – exactly as conductors are trained to do. Naturally, such skill does not develop by itself, after a once-off act of will. It is extremely useful and it can and should be learnt. Teachers definitely should direct the attention of their students to this important professional aspect. Actually, the study of the score – or the whole work – is indispensable to perceive the logic and structure of the composition which in turn gives clear, unambiguous indications for performing the work.

            The Seventh Sin: No differentiation between the leading and accompanying element and no respect for their interrelation.
            This sin also results from faulty preparation which focuses mostly on one’s individual part. Obviously, a notation of a part of a musical work does not allow to understand which element is the leading one and which one is accompanying. I am still amused when I recollect my attempt to perform Brahms’ sonata in F major for cello and piano with a famous cellist who clearly did not make any effort to consult the full score by looking at the piano notation. He just studied his own staff. The second part of the Sonata includes a marvellous, breath-taking chorale played by a pianist – which I perceive as the leading element – while the cellist plays a series of pizzicati which obviously are significant, but still constitute an accompaniment. I must admit that I was flabbergasted when my “partner” who clearly considered himself a “soloist” demanded aggressively that I should subordinate the chorale to his pizzicati.  No wonder that we played together twice – for the first and the last time!
            Just like all issues in art, the problem of the leading and accompanying element requires intelligent, multidimensional and flexible attitude. I included it in this set of my personal reflections although I knew it would be simplified and conventionalised out of necessity.  Generally, no performer should have any special difficulties with defining  and differentiating these two elements, especially in so-called classical music. I have to admit that I have a problem with accepting performances by certain conductors which create an impression of a total gobbledygook and chaos of phrases subjected to a mechanical discipline of the rhythm to make them stick together and follow some logical order. Usually such performances are lacking the most important things while the background and scaffolding of the dramaturgy is blatantly exposed. I can just guess that such performers probably never heard about the implications of the relation between important and less important elements of the musical work. I am also amazed that soloists so often fail to understand the relationship between the leading and accompanying element. Surprisingly enough, this misunderstanding is not restricted to ensemble performances.
            All these  ominous Cardinal Sins are by no means a life sentence and the offenders do not have to fear eternal damnation. Expiation is always an option. As I have already mentioned, a sin requires awareness. It does not count if committed unawares.  Actions turn into sins when one is fully aware of the misdeed and yet does nothing to refrain from such actions in the future, if possible. The Seven Sins are subject to the same principles! Typically, they are hardly ever an invention of the offender. They result from faulty teaching and instruction of incompetent mentors. Naturally, I have no chance to prove this empirically, but I know many cases from my own many years’ experience that the awareness of the “sin” can do a miracle and resolutely change the quality of the performance. Perhaps not immediately, but within an acceptable time span, depending on one’s talent and readiness to change.
            I am tempted to sum up the above with two reflections. Firstly, everything which has just been said can actually be reduced to good preparation. Not only for the performance, but also – and most importantly – for the first rehearsal which is the first meeting with the partners. I strongly encourage my students to develop the all-important habit to get prepared thoroughly and perfectly for such first meeting. I make them aware that it is just bad manners or even immoral to present oneself to a partner without any preparation, committing all the evident professional misdeeds. And everyone has the right to expect reciprocity which is equally good preparation on the side of the partner. I am still appalled recollecting my first meeting with an outstanding Polish quartet (Nomina sunt odiosa!) whose members performed on the level of incoherent score reading. I still feel disgusted by it. Or an internationally renowned conductor (The nomina keep being odiosa) who had the guts to come for the first rehearsal without knowing what work he was to conduct. It is not a figment of imagination!
             Secondly, when I discuss the Seven Sins, and actually all things related directly to performances, I feel trapped by the inadequacy of words. In spite of my best efforts, they are unable to convey the whole complexity of the problem. It is so easy to show and demonstrate things. There is no need to provide evidence. Everything is clear and comprehensible, everything is there to be heard.  Even the most precise, scientific investigation and explanation of a simple leading element would actually need a separate essay. A presentation allows to reach the core of the problem without any intermediaries. To complicate matters further, there are no absolute truths in Art. While discussing it, one continually treads on unstable ground where subjective opinions may be much more reasonable than statements which aspire to be general or universal.  After all, sometimes it is not so easy to tell a kitsch from a masterpiece!


(jmarchwinski@gmail.com)  

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