Piano Notes
By Charles Rosen, Free Press, 246 pages, $25
Charles Rosen does not particularly like master classes. Rather than taking part in a masquerade whose only purpose is to make the teacher look brilliant, he chooses to write, a task for which he demonstrates a strong affinity. In this latest work, the author of The Classical Style offers the very substance of his irreplaceable experience. The real-life experience of a pianist enlightened about his art and about its teaching is priceless, particularly when described with such discernment.
Rosen reviews various aspects of a professional pianist’s daily experience, such as the physical pleasure of playing, the importance of listening to the sound, and the issue of conservatories and competitions. He offers pearls of wisdom about concerts and recordings, and concludes with a reflection on styles and manners, probably his favorite topic. Readers will find much more than the tricks of the trade here because Rosen offers his insights in the light of a certain philosophy of music. The learned encyclopaedist crystallizes in Piano Notes what could be called the enlightenment of piano teaching.
But here’s the rub: music is not an exact science and certain positions defended in this book are open to debate. The author’s willingness to entertain such challenges is evident when he writes, "Any dogmatic system of teaching technique is pernicious."
Just to take one example, the question of touch - Rosen defends the rational theory prevalent today as follows: "…there is no way of pushing down a key more gracefully that will make the slightest difference to the resulting sound. A beautiful quality of tone is achieved by shaping the melody and melding the harmony and the counterpoint." This opposes what Lipatti taught, wanting to imitate the sound of a flute in one passage or a baritone voice in another. Or again, think of Arrau, who simulated vibrato with his fingers on the keys. Clearly he was thinking of singing. As for Alicia de Larrocha, the unparalleled finesse of her touch unveils a luxuriant and strongly evocative palette of colors. These three counter-examples show the mysterious aspect of the piano, whose sound production is regulated by undisputable physical laws, true, but which inexplicably manages to produce an infinity of colors under the skilled fingers of an experienced pianist. What Rosen perhaps forgets to note is that the obsessive desire of certain great pianists to imitate the voice or another orchestra instrument makes it happen. This is maybe as a result of shaping the melody, as he suggests. But whatever the reason, the musical end justifies all means, even the least rational. Young pianists today suffer from living in a world of science and technology where there is no room for dreams or imagination. Perhaps it is best to continue believing in touch and its legends. Not everyone wants to be told the truth about Santa Claus, or as Tocqueville said, a lie that is easy to understand is better than a truth that is difficult to grasp. Perhaps it is because of this positivist view of the piano’s mechanism that all of today’s young pianists produce essentially the same sound.
Rosen places the blame for phenomenon on the conservatories and competitions, for "they tend to hinder the development of the direct and experimental approach of the repertory that would be most profitable." It is certainly not enough to leave the conservatory with a repertoire of four recital programs. His insistence on discovering piano music by sight-reading rather than by listening to recordings (not to mention walkmans, which he calls "ghetto blasters") is laudable. Among competition judges, he finds that piano teachers are "the most intolerant and composers are the most tolerant." What he forgets to say is that critics are right in the middle and would be ideal judges.
Concerts bring musicians their greatest satisfaction, despite such problems and annoyances as stage fright, ringing cell phones, and coughing, not to mention the behavior of audiences conditioned by the media. "We hear for the most part what we expect to hear. […] The attention is accorded in advance to a great reputation," he adds, somewhat cynically.
Rosen looks at recording with a very critical eye. He regrets the fashions in sound recording methods as well as the diktat of the sound engineers with whom pianists must collaborate. They strive to give the impression that the concert was played in a large hall. Thus, "we are no longer accustomed to an acoustic with too much intimacy." Rosen insists on the ‘artistic’, i.e. artificial, side of recordings composed of different takes and various splicing. Ignoring that, the public accords a value to recordings that often leads to erroneous judgments of both contemporary pianists and those of the past. Rosen explains also that "the change in the character of recordings led to the myth that pianism was much more free in the grand old days of the past." But he may have forgotten that this so-called myth is not only documented in recordings of the period but also in critical reviews and accounts by the pianists themselves, all of which come to the same conclusion.
The chapter entitled "Styles and Manners" is very exciting. Though Rosen mentions Schumann, Chopin and Brahms, one perceives strong affinities with Mozart, Haydn and with the modernism that he defends ultimately in a sort of anti-dogmatic manifesto. His humility and broadmindedness make a plea for the music of Messiaen and Boulez.
After criticizing the weakness of the neo-tonal system used by the post-moderns, whom he castigates in passing, Rosen the humanist concludes with a discussion on the joys and sorrows of the history of the piano, while admitting his perplexity as to the future of the instrument.
Piano Notes is a goldmine of experience and wisdom. It is also the starting point for further reflection, opening a debate intended to stir up the reader’s free will. Piano teachers and young pianists, if you don’t read this book you will curse yourselves.
VILLEMIN
Published in American Record Guide, Vol. 66, N. 3