Episode 04: Different Moment

“The real magic occurs when you connect the dots between the composition’s form – as written in the sheet – and the way a particular musician interprets it. Only then you’re ready to enjoy yourself fully. As usual, the holy grail is somewhere in the middle.”

There are two aspects to the perception of music while you listen to it. 

On the one hand, you can listen to a piece of music purely for the composition itself. On the other, you can focus on its interpretation – that is on the expression of the artist who performs it.

Together, this duality creates an exciting intersection. In my case, when I hear a piece for the first time, I will predominantly focus on the composition because to me, it's a totally unknown piece, which I need to discover. However, the more I familiarise myself with its structure, the more I pay attention to the various ways of interpretation. When approaching a never heard piece of music, it often depends on how knowledgeable you are as a listener. Basically, the more you know about the world of music, the better you are at evaluating the quality of the orchestra or at appreciating the original style of the performer.

The real magic occurs when you connect the dots between the composition's form – as written in the sheet – and the way a particular musician interprets it. Only then you're ready to enjoy yourself fully. As usual, the holy grail is somewhere in the middle.

If you are a person with no experience with classical music, but you feel like giving it a chance, you might, for instance – one day – find yourself at a random concert. It wouldn't surprise me if you felt completely overwhelmed with different perceptions attacking you from every side. The sheer amount of aspects that determine your experience is almost unbelievable.

So, if you're lucky, you might leave the concert hall pleasantly surprised or fascinated, maybe even persuaded to repeat this experience in the future. In a worse case, you end up being irritated, confused or bored.

Both of these scenarios are perfectly normal even for a music aficionado. Where you and the expert differ is that most probably you don't really know WHY you feel this way. And believe it or not, the interpretation might play a crucial role in this. Don't be afraid to try another concert next time with a different performer, don't give up on classical music just yet! Take my word for it – discovering new artists is a vital part of your journey to fall in love with classical compositions. Who knows, you might end up loving a song you initially overlooked just because someone took an original take on it.

When I study a new piece, at first, I avoid listening to other artists performing it. But, as soon as I begin to understand its complexity and I build my own, unobstructed view of the interpretation, I don't resist it anymore. In fact, I'm quite hungry for discovering other approaches. While searching for them – whether in my vinyl collection or on YouTube – I prefer finding old recordings. More often than not, I go as far back as to the first sound recordings ever made. Nothing beats the possibility to listen to the grand artists of 19th and 20th century performing their own compositions. Maurice Ravel, Edward Grieg, Sergei Rachmaninoff, Dmitri Shostakovich. Just search the Internet and prepare to be stunned and fascinated. Honestly, this never gets old.

Let's try it right now, shall we? Consider Frederic Chopin's Ballad f minor. Make a coffee, put on your wool socks or whatever you need to feel comfortable and go on YouTube.

Firstly, let's find this particular piece performed by a young contemporary artist. For instance, if you type "Chopin Institute - Ballade f minor" in the search bar, you should find videos of several young pianists interpreting this piece.

Listen to a few of them, one after another. If you find it challenging to go several times through the same longer piece, pick just a specific passage that you enjoy to contrast and compare. Take your time, and if you can, also mental notes, they'll come in handy later.

Ok, shall we dive deeper in the past? Let's hear this ballad interpreted by Ignaz Friedman and Samuil Feinberg in the first half of the last century. Sure, the difference in the quality of the recordings is palpable, but that has never stopped a real enthusiast like you and me, has it. Quite the opposite. After all, old recordings are wrapped in a romantic atmosphere and mysticism. But shush now about the quality and focus on the music – its movement, inner liveliness, energy, contrasts, individuality, momentum, the imprint of the artist...

Well, how was it? Who of them moved you, bored you, agitated you? Isn't it just mindblowing, the way each of the pianists transforms the energy of the composition into his or her unique creation? And congratulations for taking your step to expand your listening repertoire!

One of the pianists, who has undoubtedly become a great inspiration for me, is Alfred Cortot – a solo pianist, chamber musician, conductor, also the founder of the music school in Paris. There he led interpretation courses attended by prominent pianists such as Clara Haskil, Solomon or Dinu Lipati. He was also known for publishing his own editions of sheet music with extensive notes and worked on several studies on piano technique. If you enjoyed deepening your listening scope through Chopin's Ballad, I have good news for you - Cortot's interpretation is on YouTube too! If I had to characterise him with one word, I'd say Cortot was a poet. Listening to him playing, you feel as if every tone had a life of its own... and yet at the same time, he also opens your senses to an entirely new and complex dimension somewhere in the space behind them... Check it out yourself, I'll leave you to it.

You might notice quite a lot of mistakes in several of his recordings. It's no secret that in his advanced age he suffered from memory loss. Yet, the genius way he perceives form and content goes far beyond the score.

Recently I bought an LP with his interpretation of Cesar Franck's Prelude, Choral and Fugue – that is composition that I play myself. Listening to the album, I fully realised the vital importance of recordings from times long gone, even though I play quite differently myself. I perceive time, tempo and phrases differently, I emphasise other inner voices, I work differently with details... Which is all understandable given almost a century separates us.

What I feel from their music is this – they don't approach playing the piano only for its technique. Through playing the piano, they make sense of music, and through music, they make compositions come truly alive. Their sophisticated understanding of the piece transpires through their music, especially when interpreting the romantic repertoire.

And yet, I don't listen to them in order to play like them. I listen to them because it encourages me on my own journey.  Thanks to them, I'm not afraid of losing myself in feelings and imagination. Last but not least, I listen to them because sometimes they are capable of transforming music that would otherwise bore me into brand new, fascinating pieces. 

Ok, time to entertain ourselves once more.

Let's do another experiment, this time with Rachmaninoff's Prelude Op. 32 no. 12.

If you look at the notes on its first page, you'll see that in addition to the score, there is at least one extra note in each bar, marking either tempo or the dynamics. And yet, even if you religiously follow the author's detailed description, you're still left with room for free creative work. Choosing tempo, phrasing, access to gradations, dynamic vaulting, working with time, choice of keystroke… Despite all the "rules", you've got so much space to make your own choices.

The first recording you should definitely look up is the Prelude performed by Sergei Rachmaninoff himself. That's a must, hands down. It's so inspiring! To compare it with a different and quite distinctive approach, check out the video recording of 1966 recital by Sviatoslav Richter. Third time lucky, search for Vladimir Horowitz as well – be it his recital in Moscow in 1986 or a magical documentary recording from his own home with his wife sitting on the sofa and listening.

Wait a minute, I nearly forgot! You can listen to my own take on this Prelude in the second part of this episode. Who would have thought, one song and so many options!

I beg you pardon, but I'll add yet another little caveat to this already messy picture I'm painting here.

One pianist can play one piece in many different ways. Let me give you a concrete example. Emil Gilels, another of my all-time favourites, re-recorded many of the pieces he used to play as a young man when he reached old age. His interpretation of Beethoven's third concerto comes to mind. Go on, give it a listen, and discover the gap between a young, energetic, unrestrained approach and the insightful expression of an old stager.

Similarly, in the last example of today's episode, let's contrast two interpretations by the same person. But what if I told you that both of them were recorded the same day, the only difference being the time of the day and sartorial choice :-)? 

If you remember the previous Cataplasm episode, I played Rachmaninoff's Moment Musicaux. Also, I wore a black dress :) How is that important you might think? Well, bare with me. 

It wasn't the only recording of that piece we made, nor it was the single dress I put on that day! You may want to check out the white dress version included in the second part of this episode. And even though it's me playing the same instrument, the two versions are separated from each other by time as well as by the way I felt in my attire. Long story short, it is a different moment. Different Moment Musicaux.

It's just a subtle difference, I didn't play the piece to create contrast. Yet, if listening carefully, you will detect nuances in the white dress version.

The black version carries tension and charge for me, it's more precise and full of energy. The white one has finer poetics, it comes across as more cautious and restrained, and you can spot the impact of fatigue on the purity of my play. Each of them captures the moment there and then, no other.

The combinations are endless. No single piece is ever the same.

You might love a song so much that you don't care who plays it. You might only appreciate a piece performed by one specific artist and no other. You might find yourself listening to one recording over and over again since to you it is flawless and you don't desire to discover any other. Whatever it is, don't ever forget to play and experiment. The freely accessible pool of fantastic recordings is out there for you to jump right in.