Dear Readers,
So why should it be so difficult just to study Salome? Sometimes, I can barely bring myself to pick it up, much less open it. And yet, in spite of its immensity, at least of its orchestral scope, it is just the same 12 notes. Same twelve notes as in Bach, as in Mozart, as in Schoenberg, Debussy and Brahms. Different order, different level of density, but ultimately, just 12 pitches in various patterns and forms of organization. Is the conducting difficult? Not really - it is 1, 2, 3, 4 and occasionally 5/4. Phrase structure? Mostly 4-bar phrases. Deep dramatic issues? Not so much - girl meets guy, tries to get to know him, guy turns girl down, she has his head chopped off. Mixed marriages - you know, they never work. A lot of talk about the moon. Oh, and there are some Jews yammering about; we had similar discussions when I was at Temple Israel in Minneapolis.
So what is the problem? Well, they may only be the same 12 notes, but there are SO DARN MANY OF THEM! Kind of makes me miss Arvo Pärt. That, and anticipating the problems of rehearsing it (you think it is hard to play on the piano? Take a gander at the 1st violin part) and preparing for the balance issues of concert performance when the orchestra is on stage.
I think it is crucial - just as we ought never underestimate the complexity of a Mozart piano concerto - not to overestimate the challenges of a big Strauss score. It's like how you go about eating a 3-lb. porterhouse - one bite at a time, and what you don't eat now, take home and have tomorrow. I have found it helpful to open up the score on any given day somewhere in the middle, or towards the end, and sometimes to work backwards. This helps me get a larger view of the work, and to look at mastering the score in pieces rather than as a marathon from the first page to the last. Above all, DON'T PANIC. It will all get learned, if you - or rather, I - keep at it.
And don't skip steps, tempting though it may be. I'm currently writing the text in the margins of my piano score (yes, I'm working out of a piano score first, then will address the instrumentation and traffic - only one anxiety attack at a time, please). Speaking text, speaking text in rhythm, repeating text. I think of it like grinding the ink for my sumi-e paintings; just keep gently grinding the stone, over and over again.
I'm pretty much through these first two parts of my process, and have started singing it (yes, it's already translated; the more German you do, the more German you know!). I sit down and play the score more for pleasure than for understanding at this point. Still haven't sat down with a recording, and I'm not sure I will. It is a luxury to have the time to do this; nothing worse than cramming a score down my mental gullet.
There comes a point, after the dread, the laziness, the fatigue, when it becomes fun. Pleasurable. I'm starting to get to that point; the point where the notes don't seem quite as small, the harmonies not quite as thorny, the words not so tongue-twisting. Where the drama emerges as a panorama of possibility, not imperative. Just keep going. Chop wood, carry water. Or in this case, chop head, carry..uh...torches.
Best to all from Beijing,
MG
So why should it be so difficult just to study Salome? Sometimes, I can barely bring myself to pick it up, much less open it. And yet, in spite of its immensity, at least of its orchestral scope, it is just the same 12 notes. Same twelve notes as in Bach, as in Mozart, as in Schoenberg, Debussy and Brahms. Different order, different level of density, but ultimately, just 12 pitches in various patterns and forms of organization. Is the conducting difficult? Not really - it is 1, 2, 3, 4 and occasionally 5/4. Phrase structure? Mostly 4-bar phrases. Deep dramatic issues? Not so much - girl meets guy, tries to get to know him, guy turns girl down, she has his head chopped off. Mixed marriages - you know, they never work. A lot of talk about the moon. Oh, and there are some Jews yammering about; we had similar discussions when I was at Temple Israel in Minneapolis.
So what is the problem? Well, they may only be the same 12 notes, but there are SO DARN MANY OF THEM! Kind of makes me miss Arvo Pärt. That, and anticipating the problems of rehearsing it (you think it is hard to play on the piano? Take a gander at the 1st violin part) and preparing for the balance issues of concert performance when the orchestra is on stage.
I think it is crucial - just as we ought never underestimate the complexity of a Mozart piano concerto - not to overestimate the challenges of a big Strauss score. It's like how you go about eating a 3-lb. porterhouse - one bite at a time, and what you don't eat now, take home and have tomorrow. I have found it helpful to open up the score on any given day somewhere in the middle, or towards the end, and sometimes to work backwards. This helps me get a larger view of the work, and to look at mastering the score in pieces rather than as a marathon from the first page to the last. Above all, DON'T PANIC. It will all get learned, if you - or rather, I - keep at it.
And don't skip steps, tempting though it may be. I'm currently writing the text in the margins of my piano score (yes, I'm working out of a piano score first, then will address the instrumentation and traffic - only one anxiety attack at a time, please). Speaking text, speaking text in rhythm, repeating text. I think of it like grinding the ink for my sumi-e paintings; just keep gently grinding the stone, over and over again.
I'm pretty much through these first two parts of my process, and have started singing it (yes, it's already translated; the more German you do, the more German you know!). I sit down and play the score more for pleasure than for understanding at this point. Still haven't sat down with a recording, and I'm not sure I will. It is a luxury to have the time to do this; nothing worse than cramming a score down my mental gullet.
There comes a point, after the dread, the laziness, the fatigue, when it becomes fun. Pleasurable. I'm starting to get to that point; the point where the notes don't seem quite as small, the harmonies not quite as thorny, the words not so tongue-twisting. Where the drama emerges as a panorama of possibility, not imperative. Just keep going. Chop wood, carry water. Or in this case, chop head, carry..uh...torches.
Best to all from Beijing,
MG
No comments:
Post a Comment