Sunday, September 26, 2021

What effect (if any) does this 32-second audio clip have for you?




HOW 'BOUT THESE PERFORMANCES -- SAME EXCERPT?

Performance A


Performance B


Performance C


by Ken

I'll tell you what effect that top clip has for me: It makes me want really badly to hear whatever follows it.

No, we're by no means done with Dvořák -- or Brahms, for that matter. (Parenthetically, isn't it curious how our inquiries into how Brahms became the composer he was have accidentally detoured into Dvořák, a composer Brahms ardently championed, and who was so strongly influenced by him. Different as the two men were, in so many important ways they can seem like almost the same person.) But while the next installments are writing themselves -- at least I hope they are, 'cause I sure don't seem to be making much headway writing them -- I thought I would throw out this performance I mentioned awhile back which kind of clobbered me, now that this particular missing CD has resurfaced.

In a moment we're going to hear the complete movement of which what we're going to call "Performance X" is the opening 32 seconds, and even read some words of Wikipedia-gleaned wisdom, or at least information, about it. What we're not going to do, I think, is identify either the work or the performer -- just so you're not unduly influenced in your listening by these names. Unless of course you recognize one or both. Which might not be that difficult, since the work is hardly an obscure one, and I'm not sure the pianist could be anyone other than who he is. (Okay, yes, it's a "he.")

I WILL SAY THIS MUCH --

As I said, the piece from which this movement comes isn't obscure. I just happen not to be on a ready-recognition basis with it. What's more, I've owned this disc for years. It resides, though, in an ample (15-CD) box set whose contents I can say I still haven't listened to in their entirety. I would have to think long and hard to remember how I happened to play this disc. Whatever the reason was, at the time I was probably only half-listening, until . . . well, wow!!!

The pianist is even farther from obscure, and I have to say, again, that his identity I think I might well have guessed. I'm still trying to think of a pianist who has either (a) this stupdendous set of technical resources or (b) this range of musically persuasive imaginative responses, let alone a combination of the two.


IN THE MATTER OF THE TECHNICAL RESOURCES --

I am not historically a passionate piano enthusiast. However, my interest in piano-playing expanded vastly some decades ago when it began to dawn on me, after all those years of not wildly enlightened listening, that the actual sounds a pianist produces are by no means just a function of the instrument he or she happens to be playing.

The piano, after all, is a percussion instrument. It basically serves up sound by having little hammers strike taut wire strings, and while any reasonably competent player has a fair amount of control over volume, even what we might call "usable" volume is more elusive. To pick only the most extreme, and therefore most obvious, examples, while pounding the daylights out of the keys will produce a fair amount of sound, it's not a sound anyone is going to especially want to hear. And at the same time, while touching the keys as lightly as possible will produce a minimum of sound, it's not a sound anyone is likely to be able to hear.

In your own piano listening, have you noticed how relatively uncommon it is to hear a piano player play really softly? Not entirely by coincidence, much the same is true of singing, and for that matter the playing of many if not most musical instruments -- soft sound of real presence and impact is really hard to produce, and an awful lot of surprisingly successful practitioners don't for the most part even attempt it.

Again, though, this matter of volume of sound is only a frightfully obvious example of how hard real mastery of the piano is to achieve. To pick another frightfully obvious example: Without resort to use of a pedal, a pianist can never produce a true legato sound. Since the sound again is produced by those little hammers striking taut wires, how could any pair of sounds actually be produced in a continuous, as opposed to merely consecutive, manner? Yet any reasonably competent pianist has ways of faking this, even without pedaling.

It remains for the master, however, to produce sound that actually sounds like it's legato, and this is only the most obvious of a vast range of touches and articulations of which any professional practitioner commands a basic set but only a keyboard master has a master's level of control. Including, as it belatedly dawned on me, the actual sounds produced, which can be colored and in assorted other ways personalized by that true keyboard master. And remember, a professional pianist may find him/herself playing on almost as many different pianos as he/she has engagements.


SO FAR WE'RE TALKING ONLY ABOUT RESOURCES

You'll recall that I made reference not just to Pianist X's "stupdendous set of technical resources" but to his "range of musically persuasive imaginative responses," not to mention "a combination of the two." Think of a painter and the considerable assortment of materials at his/her disposal and the even more considerable skill required to have technical control over them -- those are still just tools, waiting to be used to realize the artist's vision. Of course for musicians as well as visual artists, this loop threads both ways: The need for added communicative expression often drives the practitioner to find new ways of manipulating those tools.

We have a sloppy tendency to think of piano "technique" as the ability to play lots 'n' lots of notes -- more of 'em than most any other pianist. And there's no question that a pianist needs sure fingers -- the surer, the better. But if that's all the pianist has to offer, the effect is likely to wear thin pretty quickly. As with any artist, what we really want to know is what he/she has to communicate to us.


THAT SAID, IT'S TIME FOR US TO LISTEN TO OUR
FOUR PERFORMANCES OF THE WHOLE MOVEMENT


Simple question: How would you rate Performances X, A, B, and C in order of preference?

ii. Con moto [With movement]
3/4, A major, ABABA form. The second movement is unusual in its quickness, signified by the unique tempo marking. A driving pulse written into the phrasing augments an otherwise wistful melody in the A section. The bold, expansive B section features a novel syncopated dotted rhythm that produces stops and starts of momentum and is used to dramatic effect. Several recitatives and meditative digressions punctuate the piece, which has a sophisticated texture and inventive writing in general. The syncopated rhythm of theme B is merged with theme A for its final appearance, and the movement dies off with a brief and shadowy outro. -- Wikipedia
Performance X


Performance A


Performance B


Performance C



AT 6pm ET TODAY (SUNDAY), THESE PERFORMANCES WILL BE
REPOSTED WITH PROPER PERFORMANCE IDENTIFICATIONS


But I think maybe still not the work itself, plus I'll share my "rankings." But there will still be thoughts to share about the individual performances, and at some further point we're going to want to extend consideration to the whole of the work from which this movement comes. I don't see any of that happening today.
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