Thursday, September 08, 2005
Early Keyboard Resource
Princeton Early Keyboard Center describes itself as "a small independent school devoted to the teaching of harpsichord and clavichord playing, continuo realization and accompaniment, and related arts." And it's mission is to "offer lessons in all aspects of Baroque keyboard to anyone who wants or needs them for any reason, and also to offer opportunities or help with anything having to do with Baroque keyboard instruments - outside of or in addition to lessons - to anyone who could use such help or opportunities." Sounds pretty cool!
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Classical music dying?
Some interesting thoughts on what ails classical music from Peter Dobrin:
"But if what we're talking about here is not a crisis in interest in classical music, but a crisis in what the public is willing to pay for that interest, orchestras nationally need to change the dialogue.Our ticket buyers are affluent, orchestras say. Some are, some aren't. But the relevant question today is not what people are able to pay, but what they're willing to pay."
Read the rest here.
"But if what we're talking about here is not a crisis in interest in classical music, but a crisis in what the public is willing to pay for that interest, orchestras nationally need to change the dialogue.Our ticket buyers are affluent, orchestras say. Some are, some aren't. But the relevant question today is not what people are able to pay, but what they're willing to pay."
Read the rest here.
À La Recherche des Temps Perdu
FullerMusic has a great post up about an experience that I think is shared by more than just a few of us:
"It's a strange, occasionally eery and consistent flashbacking (best verb I can think of) that happens nearly every time I practice the piano. These are astonishing, out-of-the-blue, instant transportations to forgotten moments ... (as a 9-year-old walking past a swing ... as a 28-year-old sitting a certain way in a certain house ...) Mundane and tiny they often are, yet they are perfect recollections. Little virtual realities that arrive with an absolute suddenness."
It is a strange experience! Perhaps the piano (or any instrument one has devoted substantial time to learning) is such a profound vehicle for self-expression it is inescapably part of the very machinery of rememberance and memory. Also worth revisiting is a post by Pliable on music and Alzheimers.
Somewhere along this thread (between my earlier post and Carthy's) are intersections with a very interesting post by Emejota (La Idea del Norte) on the production of sonic images and tacticity --thru an interesting reading of a scene from one of Gould's home movies. It's a post that, if you read Spanish, is worth pouring over more than once:
"Lo más chocante de la escena, lo que deja perplejo al espectador, es que en ningún momento se ha producido una nota falsa o un error que justificara los sucesivos parones y el evidente gesto de contrariedad del pianista. ¿Qué ha pasado entonces? Lo que ha pasado es que Gould no había conseguido enfocar la imagen sonora de la música sobre el teclado."
"It's a strange, occasionally eery and consistent flashbacking (best verb I can think of) that happens nearly every time I practice the piano. These are astonishing, out-of-the-blue, instant transportations to forgotten moments ... (as a 9-year-old walking past a swing ... as a 28-year-old sitting a certain way in a certain house ...) Mundane and tiny they often are, yet they are perfect recollections. Little virtual realities that arrive with an absolute suddenness."
It is a strange experience! Perhaps the piano (or any instrument one has devoted substantial time to learning) is such a profound vehicle for self-expression it is inescapably part of the very machinery of rememberance and memory. Also worth revisiting is a post by Pliable on music and Alzheimers.
Somewhere along this thread (between my earlier post and Carthy's) are intersections with a very interesting post by Emejota (La Idea del Norte) on the production of sonic images and tacticity --thru an interesting reading of a scene from one of Gould's home movies. It's a post that, if you read Spanish, is worth pouring over more than once:
"Lo más chocante de la escena, lo que deja perplejo al espectador, es que en ningún momento se ha producido una nota falsa o un error que justificara los sucesivos parones y el evidente gesto de contrariedad del pianista. ¿Qué ha pasado entonces? Lo que ha pasado es que Gould no había conseguido enfocar la imagen sonora de la música sobre el teclado."
Today's Blog Pick
A Monk's Musical Musings A relatively new blog produced by self-described recovering jazzer and music theorist. Particularly noteworthy are a series of posts on Beethoven's 9th. Check it out, folks!
New Orleans
News from the Busoni Competition
The Busoni International Competition has announced the winners. The first prize winner is something a of suprise, at least to me, as his performance at the Cliburn didn't get him beyond the semi-finals. They are:
1st prize. Giuseppe Andaloro (Italy)
2nd Prize Mariangela Vacatello (Italy)
3rd Prize Hye-Jin Kim (South Korea)
Spencer Myer who generated excitement (despite not winning) at the Cleveland Competition doesn't leave Italy entirely empty handed. He recieved an audience "recognition" award.
Details and more here and here.
You can download and listen to Andaloro playing the Beethoven 4th Piano Concerto here on ClassicCat.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Seeing the Music
A couple of weeks back I came across this interesting article published in the UK on music therapy. The article caught my interest with its mention of Paul Robertson's work on music and the mind:
Paul Robertson, the former leader of the Medici Quartet, promotes the relationship between music, the mind and emotions, and says that music may offer a way into the brain when other pathways have become damaged. He cites the case of Stephen Wade, a linguist and amateur composer, who suffered a stroke and can no longer speak, read or write. Wade does not remember a conversation from a few minutes before, but can play complex passages of music. He cannot write words, but is able to write music.
Last year he completed a degree in music composition at Cambridge University. Wade’s story is not unusual; thousands of people lose the ability to process language, but not music. “Music is the underlying structure of communication,” says Robertson. “It is hard-wired into our brains. Neurological research shows that it is not memory that is lost, but the access to it, so music may offer another route in, providing a kind of short-cut.”
Then I came across a reference to Robertson in this article on the perception of sound:
"Among many other things, he (Robertson) presents research where the brain of a male, practicing scales and playing Bach on a small keyboard, is x-rayed. One of the most amazing results of this examination is that the part of the brain that deals with listening is inactive while he plays. On the other hand the part which deals with visual impressions is active when he plays Bach (i.e. is creative) but not when he practices scales (a non creative task)....For some reason our minds let us believe that we are hearing when we are in fact feeling or seeing, and that we are seeing when we´re hearing. Why is that?"
Is there not some other kind or modality of listening going on? I think of my own experiences at practice and I partly think it makes sense, but at the same time something doesn't quite ring true. I've alway enjoyed playing and practicing Bach early in the morning and experienced it as a kind of meditative practice. Often slowing the tempo to a crawl, concentrating on "feeling" each note beneath the finger and at the same time "seeing" it as it fits into a larger network of relations.
What's your experience?
Paul Robertson, the former leader of the Medici Quartet, promotes the relationship between music, the mind and emotions, and says that music may offer a way into the brain when other pathways have become damaged. He cites the case of Stephen Wade, a linguist and amateur composer, who suffered a stroke and can no longer speak, read or write. Wade does not remember a conversation from a few minutes before, but can play complex passages of music. He cannot write words, but is able to write music.
Last year he completed a degree in music composition at Cambridge University. Wade’s story is not unusual; thousands of people lose the ability to process language, but not music. “Music is the underlying structure of communication,” says Robertson. “It is hard-wired into our brains. Neurological research shows that it is not memory that is lost, but the access to it, so music may offer another route in, providing a kind of short-cut.”
Then I came across a reference to Robertson in this article on the perception of sound:
"Among many other things, he (Robertson) presents research where the brain of a male, practicing scales and playing Bach on a small keyboard, is x-rayed. One of the most amazing results of this examination is that the part of the brain that deals with listening is inactive while he plays. On the other hand the part which deals with visual impressions is active when he plays Bach (i.e. is creative) but not when he practices scales (a non creative task)....For some reason our minds let us believe that we are hearing when we are in fact feeling or seeing, and that we are seeing when we´re hearing. Why is that?"
Is there not some other kind or modality of listening going on? I think of my own experiences at practice and I partly think it makes sense, but at the same time something doesn't quite ring true. I've alway enjoyed playing and practicing Bach early in the morning and experienced it as a kind of meditative practice. Often slowing the tempo to a crawl, concentrating on "feeling" each note beneath the finger and at the same time "seeing" it as it fits into a larger network of relations.
What's your experience?