Thursday, January 31, 2013

Lessons on Piano Lessons - Part 1

One of the greatest joys I have is getting to teach piano. I teach Monday afternoon and early evening. I rush from my "day job" as a French Immersion teacher to teach private piano lessons.  It's exhausting to make a 30-km commute from school to where I teach, normally in pouring rain but the reward is great. 

My students are motivated, love music, and I have been fortunate enough to develop positive relationships with them.  In the last few years, I have become increasingly curious about what differentiates a good piano teacher from a great piano teacher.

After observing two recent masterclasses, one by former UBC Professor Jane Coop and current Rice University Professor and the pride of Vancouver, Jon Kimura Parker, I believe that I may have a few insights to share on the subject.   In this post, I'll share what I learned from Professor Jane Coop.




In both masterclasses, exceptional young pianists were picked to perform for these esteemed musicians. After hearing a young girl play Chopin's Ballade no. 3, Professor Coop had just one question: "When you hear a pianist in concert, what draws you to them?"  Are we asking our students how they're going to grab, maintain, and then release their audience's attention?  

The next question that Professor Coop asked was "What's the most difficult thing to do on the piano?" After some coaxing, the student arrived at the answer that creating a legato sound is our biggest challenge due to the decay of sound.  Professor Coop further urged the student to consider that what makes legato challenging is when we can't physically hold down the notes to overlap, how do we create a legato sound? Professor Coop's answer was that we shape the line to give the illusion of legato. 

One element of Professor Coop's teaching style that was very evident was her use of questioning technique to engage students in thinking about the music that they are learning.  Another teaching technique that Professor Coop used was to remind the student of elements that they needed to work on before they demonstrated to her that they had understood her suggestions.  Moreover, Professor Coop sang and conducted a fair amount to give the student suggestions on musicality. How many of us are confident enough to do that? It was a very powerful tool which resulted in a lot of improvement from the students.



The next student to perform did a delightful job of Haydn's Piano Sonata in E-flat Major, Hob. XVI: 52.  Professor Coop asked very intriguing questions such as "Why do you think that this sonata is popular?" and "what is the character of this music?"  The first question, in particular, is so critical because the student will share with their audience what they perceive to be great about the music.  Professor Coop drew the student's attention to certain figures that were being blurred by his use of pedal.  An effective piano teacher will always maintain high expectations of their students ensuring that the student is being attentive to each detail present in the score.


Following the Haydn, a young pianist played Debussy's Jardins sous la pluie.  Professor Coop asked the pianist many questions to ascertain whether the student understood the atmosphere and setting that the music was meant to create.  One aspect of Professor Coop's teaching that remained consistent throughout the masterclass was how positive she was toward each pupil.  For example, she complimented the student who played Jardins sous la pluie on having met the technical challenges of the piece. Nonetheless, she urged this student to reach beyond the technical aspects of the piece and aim for colour, confidence, and flare. How often have we been to a recital or festival and heard gorgeous music reduced to a technical study in how to fly across the keyboard?  


Have you ever been last in a masterclass or festival class? It's honestly the worst. You have the difficult task of maintaining everyone's attention after they've already heard three performances and witnessed three mini-lessons.  Nonetheless, one last pianist performed Chopin's Ballade no. 4.  It was in this last lesson that Professor Coop's gifts as a teacher really shone through.  Her first response after the young woman finished performing was to compliment her on how she has focused on bringing out the melody.  

After that encouraging remark, Professor Coop addressed what is a universal issue for musicians. It's the psychological game of having confidence in yourself before you perform and having an idea of what kind of sound you wish to produce.  Professor Coop recommended that the young pianist hear the first few notes in her head before her fingers even touched the keyboard.  Moreover, she suggested having a sound level in mind before depressing the keys.  Finally, her most valuable advice of all: "Remember what it is to sing a line."  Professor Coop reminded the audience and the students that it is challenging for pianists to create melodic lines because our instrument doesn't lend itself to having a strong "sense of intervals."  She claimed that much happens between the intervals of which pianists are very unaware.

To summarize, it was an incredible two hours spent observing a truly masterful piano teacher. Her teaching techniques of encouragement, singing to demonstrate desired musical effect, and using questions to guide knowledge acquisition were all exemplary.  Moreover, her demeanour was consistently calm and pleasant. Nonetheless, her wealth of knowledge made her presence very authoritative indeed. I am still trying to figure out how Professor Coop was so efficient in her instruction but for now I am simply grateful for the opportunity to have watched her generously share her knowledge of the piano and its music.

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Give the gift of music.

Dear friends and readers,

I am of the firm belief that music lessons were the greatest gift my parents ever gave me. I still thank them on a regular basis for paying for my music lessons and making my practise.

The joy of music lessons is often restricted to those who can afford lessons, if their school doesn't have a music program.  I'm hoping to combine social justice and a passion for the arts in this campaign.

I would love to give students free piano lessons. Unfortunately, I don't have a piano in my home. With the help of Indiegogo, I will hopefully be able to raise enough money to purchase a piano and then volunteer my time to teach children music in my home.

I would be so grateful for your support!


Merci! Danke! Thank you! Gracias! Grazie!

Please click here to support: http://igg.me/p/326335/x/401994

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Choosing Bach

My wonderful teacher has said that I can choose a new solo Bach selection!

This is so exciting. New repertoire with my nice new bow arm...so, friends I need your help. Which of these pieces should I learn?


Danke schön!

Option A) Happy, happy, peasant dance, E Major, pure joy


Option B) Melancholy, profound sadness (yet peaceful), g minor, such a great key to play in


Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Brahms: What music ought to do to our hearts

There is a multitude of research on the subject of how music affects our brains.  What a wonderful topic to investigate! However, what about how music affects our hearts




Monday night, I witnessed music that did what it ought to do: it moved my heart.  The highlight of Monday evening's performance was the Brahms Violin Concerto in D Major, op. 77, performed by the impeccable Midori as soloist with the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra under the baton of Maestro Bramwell Tovey.

It was not the first time that I'd heard this piece performed live. In fact, earlier this year, in Montreal, I heard it performed by Maxim Vengerov with the Orchestre Symphonique de Montréal.  However, my friend and I arrived literally one minute too late and were not able to be seated in time for the first half. Nonetheless, we watched disappointed from the cushy, gorgeous, comfortable lobby at Place des Arts on their video screens.  My heart was aching because I knew that I was missing a once in a lifetime opportunity.  



Moving on from that tragic experience, involving the wrong bus on Avenue du Parc, I bravely continued with my concert-going life.  As fortune would have it, 2013 granted me another opportunity to hear this formidable concerto live.  Monday night, after an extremely hectic day of teaching school, teaching piano, and tutoring, (with 10 minutes to spare for something that resembled food), I headed downtown to the Orpheum Theatre.



My friend who accompanied asked: "So, what makes this Brahms Concerto so special?" I smiled and replied: "Oh, it has many technical challenges. The melodies are quite nice though."  My answer should have been about how Brahms' music touches the core of the human soul and what it means to love, lose, try again, and experience joy and pain during life's journey.  After Midori's sensitive, humble, and touching interpretation, my answer would have been that this amazing work of music allows us to experience all of those sentiments on such a heightened level.



What allowed Midori to play Brahms' music so that I felt each emotion that the composer intends for me to experience? In a word, her maturity.  Midori is in her early forties. She has been concertizing since the age of eleven. What I witnessed on stage was her taking a secondary role to the music. Her stage presence and choice of dynamics allowed us to appreciate the notes that Brahms has left us. We rarely noticed Midori, but we sure paid attention to Johannes!  That is what a true musician is supposed to do when they interpret a composer's work of art for us.  They are, in fact, simply the vehicle by which that composer's art is delivered to us.  From this concert experience, I will always remember how Midori made herself literally and figuratively small.  She is a diminutive woman in stature but she made herself small in relation to her ego.  There was no encore. We did not need one. She had given of herself and was an incredible partner with the orchestra.  There were moments when I had wished to hear more of her violin and I had wanted her to "play out" more.  Then, after a few minutes, my ears adjusted and I simply listened more carefully.  Her modesty was simply exemplary.  In fact, my dear friend, who is an accomplished pianist, made the comment: "A showy person really couldn't play this concerto."  

There were a few points during the first movement where I could actually feel my heart hurt.  Since Midori so faithfully presented the music to us, her willing audience, we were able to experience loss, yearning, frustration, love, peace, and triumph - all of the sentiments that Brahms includes in this masterpiece.  I have no qualm with the fact that many feelings of loss or melancholy stayed in my heart after the concert. That, after all, is what good music ought to do. It ought to affect you profoundly and emotionally.  If the musicians are successful, and the composer has written something to which you can relate, a wonderful performance will touch deep scars, open old wounds, and make no promise to patch them back up again.  


Saturday, January 5, 2013

Les Troyens: One time I watched opera for 5 hours

Les Troyens by Hector Berlioz




A few days ago, I checked the website for the Met Live Opera Schedule to buy my ticket for their presentation of Les Troyens.  I was genuinely surprised to see that there were only a few tickets remaining for the Vancouver presentation downtown on Burrard Street.  I quickly purchased my ticket. I was definitely looking forward to this Met Opera broadcast, live from New York. I had not attended any Met HD Live broadcasts since July 2011 in Montréal when I watched Jonas Kaufmann, Deb Voigt, and Bryn Terfel literally knock my socks off in Wagner's phenomenal Die Walküre.  


Before this morning, I was completely unfamiliar with Berlioz's grand opera Les Troyens.  All I knew was that I was in for a fairly long day. The performance was to last from 9 am until 2:30 PM!  Earlier this week, I went and borrowed a copy of the score from the UBC Music Library with the noble intention to listen to the whole opera before Saturday. Well, the week got busy and I only listened to the first fifteen minutes of Act I.  Saturday's broadcast would have to be a surprise - and a surprise is what Berlioz delivered!

Not once, during the entire 5 hours of the opera, was I tempted to check the time. The amazing musicians of the Met Orchestra, Met Opera Chorus, and the stunning soloists kept me engaged the entire time.  This, after all, is what fine art is designed to do - capture the attention of its audience and prompt their thoughts on the human condition.


What is it about this opera that kept me engaged?  After Acts I and II, I was already impressed musically and dramatically by what the composer had created.  After seeing Les Troyens, I would argue that Berlioz is one of the 19th Century's more underrated composers.  The choral writing, small ensemble writing, and arias are simply wonderful.


Acts III and IV feature gorgeous ballet scenes where Berlioz's gift for orchestration truly shines. Oh, and the love duet between Dido and Aeneas at the end of Act IV was one of the most sensual, beautiful performances of opera that I have ever witnessed. One almost felt as if it were appropriate to leave the couple in privacy. Berlioz perfectly captures the intimacy shared by Queen Dido and the Trojan hero Aeneas. 



Just when you thought things were going well for this lovely couple, you realize: "Right, it's French romantic opera. People have to die and the lovers break up." Welcome to Act V and the reality check that you knew was coming but didn't want to admit was going to actually materialize.  To make an extremely long (as in five hours long) story short, the power couple of Queen Dido and Aeneas call it quits.  Forced to choose between staying with his love, Queen Dido of Carthage and re-building Trojan civilisation in Italie, Aeneas chooses to be loyal to his duty and leaves with the entire Trojan fleet in search of a new home, namely Italy.  


Dido doesn't take the news very well and ends her own life with the blade of Aeneas' sword.  I would make comments about her being a "drama queen" but after taking a step back, Berlioz' music actually leaves his audience quite sympathetic to the heartbroken mezzo-soprano. The music in Act V is, for lack of a better word, intense. The string section of the orchestra is kept extremely busy and the emotional level is heightened.

How is it that a modern audience can sympathise with a character from the Ancient World? Perhaps it is because the problems that Dido and Aeneas face are not unfamiliar to modern audiences.  The problem that Aeneas faces is not uncommon today. He has to choose between his "professional duties" and a relationship.  The music in Acts IV and V shows that he deeply struggles with this decision. (Honestly, he's a decent guy!)  

Opera (and other forms of art) endure across periods of time because they speak to something universal that affects a wide variety of audiences. I have observed the pain that people go through when making a choice similar to the one that Aeneas made.  I have also observed the pain that people who are on the receiving end of that decision feel.  This opera leaves us with more questions than it does answers. What prompts someone to choose professional duty over romantic loyalty? Can someone be faulted for choosing to pursue a career rather than a relationship? Did Aeneas make the right decision by being loyal to his people as their de-facto leader? Berlioz leaves it to his audience to make that decision. 

In conclusion, what keeps someone in their seat for a five-hour opera? We are kept in our seats because although the costumes being worn are from Ancient Troy and Carthage, the hearts of the characters are our hearts.  The decisions that the characters face are our decisions. The range of emotions portrayed on stage (passion, love, betrayal, despair, helplessness) are the feelings that we experience.