Element | Qraig An Oldie, From The 1988 Vaults. Piano Improvisation One Evening In Los Angeles Of Long

Element | qraig An oldie, from the 1988 vaults. Piano improvisation one evening in Los Angeles of long ago.

Not perfect, not bad. But certainly the last commandment should read "...and dead."

nevver:

10 Commandments for Artists, Luc Latulippe

Practicing the Ligeti Etude #1

Ligeti, Book 1, Etude 1, Day 1

Let us begin by saying that the first Ligeti etude for piano should properly be played by a computer. Yes, a computer! Programmed into a sequencer and laid down hand over hand with its spikiness and perfectly odd-body parameters powerfully intact. It would not be so difficult to program the hardest (and most human) part: those constantly shifting and personal crescendi and decrescendi an individual player will want to satisfy the ear.

Let us also say that this first etude is among the richest and most rewarding masterpieces of 20th century piano writing. And there is much to be gained by not programming it into a computer but rather studying it oneself and attempting to master or at least shake hands with its challenges and intricacies and altitudes.

This series of essays will take on the business of looking at the etude from scratch, from day 1, and taking an approach to learning it: technically, aesthetically, or whatever other adverbs we find to properly apply.

Day 1 (Overview + 1st Stave)

Have you played anything by Ligeti before? Do you know who Mr Ligeti is? (Or was rather, he died in the flesh 2006.) How he might be figured in the history of music? These matters, fascinating as they are, are beyond the scope of this approach. And while they may have some basis for crafting what is broadly called “interpretation”, I have at least some doubt to the utility of this knowledge in fashioning the technique required to simply play the work.

This etude is dedicated, as several in the 1st book are, to Pierre Boulez. Is there any information, any special key, to be gleaned here in accelerating our quest? No. Not on day 1 anyway. It is also titled “Désordre” (Disorder). Titles for music are as useful for music study and performance as are titles for abstract expressionist paintings: something subjective, haloing, and extra-musical. Let us move to other matters.

Broadly speaking, there are two ways to approach a new work, and both must be considered at the start. Of course one cannot do this simultaneously, so we’ll look at both one after the other and you can decide which you’d rather choose. It is sometimes a temptation to just jump in and there is nothing wrong with that, in my view. I would favor a big picture approach first, so that’s what I’ll look at first. (We may have heard the work performed before. That seems most likely to be the case since this work, while “new”, has been rolling around the airwaves since 1986 or so; however let’s assume in theory we have not so we can at least take the approach that all elements must be observed as carefully as possible.)

Overview

So the two ways are, simply, the big picture and the small picture; the piece as a whole and the piece in small parts: note by note, note to note, hand by hand, and other such fragments.

Let’s take a measure of the piece as best we can as an entirety. Large points.

The piece in score is 8 leaves/pages

We are told the piece should play in about 2 minutes 20 seconds. As the barlines are for organization only and there is no time signature, we may imagine this piece moves at a fair clip. And so it does. “Molto vivace, vigoroso, molto ritmico” (that last point will prove particularly challenging). A whole note roughly mm=60.

First things first: take a moment now, as you would in any work that is not printed with them, to number your bars. Especially in more contemporary repertoire, it gives us a way to segment and refer to moments in the work that would be difficult otherwise. But how to number when the bars are different in each hand? Let’s use the right hand as our measure and we’ll deal with the left hand as markers relative to the right.

There is a separate key signature for each hand. (If one’s first response to this is WTF! Fear not. The notes themselves may not prove to be the deepest of our difficulties.) No accidentals of any kind in the right hand. The left hand has 5 sharps. You’re welcome for the moment to this of this as B major although it’s probably more productive just to think of it as 5 sharps and aharmonic.

A cursory overview shows the piece has a consistent driving rhythm consisting of eighth notes. Eighths and more eighths. A little more digging will reveal the odd quarter note held between hands. But the rhythm is eighth note pulse throughout, first note to last.

There are seem to be a good number of octaves. At least initially, the first two pages show octaves as the driving accent force. Alas, right and left hand accented ensemble lasts a precious short while. No latter than the first stave, the “molto ritmico” starts its molto and with a vengeance.

The octave observation is good for more than half the work and serves as a kind of base from which the departures later may make better sense. We’ll choose that as a working theory for now anyway. In the last third of the work, all kinds of chords come into play. But the same idea of these chords landing on the accented beats holds true.

A broad variety of the keyboard is used. We start right in the middle but venture out both low and high. The right hand never goes low, but the left hand sometimes goes hand. And each hand goes to its territorial extreme at some point.

It’s worth noting at once that the last third of the work, almost exactly in tandem with the change from strict octaves to chordals as mentioned above, occupies the higher registers in both hands.

There are a few comments from the composer. He tells us initially to use the pedal sparingly. (That is good advice no matter what the work, in my view.) And that the melody should be legato. We may keep that in the back of our heads for now. The other comment won’t come into play until later as it is quite tactical.

So. There are the initial big picture items. Is there anything we can see, hear or say harmonically? Not really. The work seems to be aharmonic, or atonal, as noted. Harmonically indifferent, may be a better way to say it. What about melodically? We already know from the composer that he considers the melody to be the accents between hands, those strong octaves increasingly played against each other. Or do we? He instructs us in a footnote to play the melody “legato”. Accented legato? Well, perhaps he simply doesn’t want specific detached sforzando. I’m not sure at tempo the difference would be noticeable. But let’s consider the other possibility. The melody is the full phrase, as he’s marked via slurs, in eighth notes. This would make more sense. From the perspective of our learning the piece, as opposed to performing it at an advanced level, I don’t know that we’re in a position right now to make the determination or to know what its import might be. Let us just say it’s something to think about as we begin to get the sounds in our head.

Finally, in terms of overview, is there anything immediately impressive, melodically or rhythmically, we can glean?

The eighth notes seem to be grouped by three followed by a group of five. That lasts for two bars. Then five are followed by three. Then a run of seven and the apposition between the hands begins. Now that doesn’t seem like much usefulness but in fact the pattern is one that, while not precisely consistent, does repeat in various ways over and again. We see lots of threes, lots of fives, lots of sevens. At the very least this gives us an immediate sense of the rhythmic feel. Three and five equal eight, a simple, even, round measure, but accented three and five do not feel simple, nor even, nor round. Even if the hands were together, which they are not for very long. We must remember this is an etude. Even if it were not, Ligeti’s job description nowhere says: to ease and please.

As the ensemble between hands separates, we can also immediately see the separation occurs at the value of the eight note. That lasts for approximately one stave and then the value goes to two eighth notes. Ah, a pattern! Perhaps he’ll cycle through three and four and so on? Yes, in the fourth stave we find the value goes to three eighth notes separation between the hands (which makes for some coming together of accents between hands as the groups of three and five mathematically harmonize, as it were). By the fifth stave (top of page 2), I personally begin to lose the plot. Yes I think the pattern, or at least the pattern in some way, continues. But I’m not sure how useful it is from a performance perspective. So unless you’re writing an academic paper on the work, let’s leave it for now. Suffice to say there is a consistent trope that recurs over and again throughout the work in a consistent if not precise fashion.

Melodically we may note the obvious ascending pattern in all the runs. These runs, at least in the right hand, seem typical to start with an interval leap followed by consecutive notes. The left hand almost immediately becomes atypical and following intervals that outline “chords”. It doesn’t take too long before we can also notice the left hand alternate its pattern between upward runs and downward intervals. These patterns evolve about halfway through the work and then return in force to the end. After living with the work for a time, we mind find a better way to think of these melodic lines. But for now let’s move on.

Diving In

While that is enough writing to say — Day 1 is over! Let’s start with the specifics tomorrow! — that wouldn’t fit the manner of most piano players I know. We want to put finger to key and begin the pressing. So let’s.

Everyone’s target on a day by day basis will be different. Some players might do an entire first page. Some might prefer to focus on a single bar or phrase. Others might want to read through the entire work, at whatever tempo their talent permits, to get a feel. I cannot tell what tactic is right for you. I have done all of these and more. But for this work, and since we’re writing about it and not taking some other approach to the conversation, I’m going to do this: bits and pieces will add up to the full pie. And the first bit for us will be the first stave. And the first stave we’ll take hand by hand.

Right Hand

Again: The hands match up, so to speak, infrequently in this work after the 1st stave. Part of the etude’s goal is to make very individual parts, very separate parts, “match up” in new ways. And from a player’s perspective, we have to come to a place where this feels “natural”, where this is the music, the specific music written by this composer that is now in our bones.

Still, some facility in knowing the notes themselves is the cost of entry in putting the hands together. I feel, except for those sight-readers so exceptional that they can toss off this simultaneity with ease, that struggling through the unique note values in both hands at once limits our progress and increases our toil. There is also the technical matter of the hands’s proximity to one another, often uncomfortably close or even right on top of left or vice versa. Ugh. So independent facility in hearing the notes and feeling the patterns under each independent hand is, in my case and possibly in yours, a necessity.

The right hand begins with a middle of register B octave and uncovers the devices we’ll hear throughout the work. Play these lines through paying careful attention to the fingerings that will work best for you. In this series of essays, I will limit my remarks to fingerings that are essential or that present particular problems.

Note the dynamics of forte (the accented octave) followed by piano. In initial practicing this isn’t of much concern and is, frankly, redundant. We can see immediately, especially in performance, that accenting the downbeats of each phrase will create dynamic distinction. However, do be aware that clodding through with every eighth note equally loud is not only counter-musical but make the technique more difficult to achieve.

Focus on the right hand alone, 1st stave, for a period of 5 minutes. Ten if you’re the obsessive type.

Left Hand

Similar approach to the right. Remember those sharps! Yes all the keys are black, which makes things easier or as I could even say: “possible”.

Focus on the left hand alone, 1st stave, for a period of 5 minutes. You may or may not wish more as the left hand in this early going doesn’t present any particular challenges.

Hands Together

I suggest beginning by simply playing the octaves alone without the intermediate notes. Play in time, getting a feel for what will be the signature rhythms of the piece:

1-2-3, 1-2-3-4-5, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4-5, 1-2-3-4-5, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4-5-6-7

This method of playing octaves only gives us two important benefits: first it outlines the rhythmic discourse that fits the piece together and gives it sense; second, it gives us a technical fingerhold (so to speak) on the ways the hands interweave, whether near or apart. Knowing these geographies will become essential in playing the piece with confidence and power.

I suggest focusing on these octaves for a brief period but keeping in mind that this technique can be used extensively as we learn more and more of the work.

Finally, play both hands together slowly, all notes. Pay devout attention to the way your unique structures fit with the structure of the music. When learning to play the piano, we practice so much diatonic technique that it becomes second nature to play the common intervals and scales. Depending on your familiarity with serial, atonal, or other music of the late 19th and 20th centuries, Ligeti may feel like the moon. Gravity is different. The terrain is unfamiliar, wondrous, frightening. Remember to breathe. Strap on an extra oxygen tank.

Give this work as many minutes as you think necessary. Then I advise moving off the work to something else. Scarlatti perhaps.

These kinds of focused sessions, from 10 to 15 minutes several times a day, will form the working method of learning the etude. When enough is put together so that such an approach feels too fragmentary, adjust as necessary.

But for now, enough. Day 2 is just around the bend.

“Without music, life would be a mistake.” [yeah well even with it it's a fuckin disaster]

Friedrich Nietzsche. (via orchideyes)

It may simply be the distortion of the camera lens, but this Erard looks like it has a beautifully tall fallboard. The keys look rather plasticky, but I could be wrong about that.