I Don't Like Opera, but ...

Last night we saw and heard Medea, the opera by Cherubini, performed at the Metropolitan Opera in New York. I was absolutely overwhelmed by every aspect of the production, from the superb musicians of the orchestra, through the brilliant staging and costumes, to, of course, the astonishing vocal performances, especially by Sondra Radvanovsky, who played the hugely demanding title role.

The main reason I'm not an opera fan is that I find operas too elaborate, too long, and too artificial.

I just looked up Cherubini now, a Florentine composer who lived most of his long adult life in Paris. A list of his operas is available on the Internet. I imagine that most of them are never performed these days.

I have to think more about the mystery of Medea: a Greek myth, turned into a tragedy by Euripides, rewritten in 17th century France by Corneille, turned into an opera in revolutionary France (1797), and now performed in New York (and watched in Jerusalem). What a trajectory!

Practice will Never Make Perfect

This is the dilemma: is it better to work on something difficult, that you'll never be able to master, or to stick to things at your level? My answer is implicit in my approach.

The Mozart duets for two flutes that I've been working on for quite a while are too hard for me. I'll never be able to play them well enough to perform them. At best I'll be able to make my way through it with my teacher, stopping now and then when I stumble.

But I'm working on great music.

Runs - Embodied Mind

Recently I watched a very instructive video clip on Youtube featuring a saxophone virtuoso named Ben Wendel, who described an exercise that is very simple in appearance but very deep in its reach. It got me thinking about the connection between virtuosity and musical cognition. 

Recently I've been working on Mozart duets for two flutes (originally for flute and violin), which are beyond my ability but still almost within my reach, and the pleasure of playing Mozart outweighs the frustration of not playing his music as well as I ought to.

Not only was Mozart a brilliant composer, he was also a virtuoso keyboard player and violinist. The connection between his ears, his mind, his fingers, and the rest of his body was apparently perfect. Not everyone who can play fast and expressively is also a great composer, and not every great composer was a great performer, but there's something powerful about the extraordinary connection between body and mind in music. In discussion of musical cognition, that's something that has to be addressed.

From the other direction, playing music certainly must strengthen the body-mind connection in the performer.

Improving with the Guidance of a Good Teacher

 Seven months have gone by since I added anything to this music blog. Not that the world has been waiting with bated breath for my words. During those months, I've been practicing flute regularly with the instruction and encouragement of my teacher, Vladimir Silva, who, until his retirement played with the Jerusalem Symphony Orchestra. During his entire career, he's also been a teacher, and he knows how to do it. He's been helping me work on my sound, mainly, but also on other important aspects of music. The lessons consist of warmup exercises and playing duets together.

For a few months we played the duets that Mozart wrote based on the Magic Flute and after that we worked on the six Telemann sonatas for two flutes. Recently we've been playing the first of the Mozart duets, K 156, originally written for flute and violin. Playing Mozart is an extraordinary experience. The more I work on the piece, which is a bit beyond my ability, the more I find in it. He is terrifically inventive, with one idea flashing after another. I have the feeling that I'm inside Mozart's mind while I'm playing, marveling at how his mind could have conceived of this wonderful music.

Especially in the first movement of the first duet, there are a lot of very fast passages. Working on them intensely and slowly and trying to get them close to the right tempo is better than playing scale exercises. The challenge is to keep my hands relaxed and to play with a full tone even when I'm struggling with the technical difficulties. The faster I try to play, the stiffer my fingers get, which is just the opposite of what should happen,

This is a matter of paying attention to a lot of things at the same time. Several of the books that I've read about musicianship describe a kind of detached involvement. The performer should be totally present in the music, yet she should also stand back from her playing. I have occasionally felt this happening and hoped to recover the feeling, but it's not something you can try to do,

Before I started taking lessons with Vladimir, I tried working on my own for nearly a year. My plan was to find my own voice. But it didn't work. I wasn't able to guide myself, and I was frustrated and lost motivation. Now, knowing that I have to prepare for a lesson, I invest a lot of effort.

Taking lessons from a man who is not exactly young, but who is still younger than I am, is nothing like taking lessons from a teacher when you're a kid. Vladimir and I have become friends, but that doesn't stop him from interrupting me while I'm playing and pointing out what I'm doing wrong (and sometimes right). I'm finding that the more I improve, the more I enjoy playing, even the warmup exercises. I'm getting close to producing a sound that I like on the flute, and that's reinforcing.

Should I regret that I didn't begin playing flute until I was in my late sixties? Probably not. Two of my friends were excellent flute players when they were young and got bored with flute and went over to piano. Maybe if I'd played flute for as long as I played clarinet and sax, by now I would be bored with flute and taking sax lessons.

Flute Insights: Relaxing and Concentrating - and Joy

 My teacher, Vladimir Silva, recommended a Youtube clip by Denis Bouriakov about bending notes on the flute, to increase lip flexibility, because in general I have a tendency to play with a lot of tension in both my fingers and my lips. Bouriakov knows what he's talking about (as does Vladimir). 

Along the way Bouriakov explained something about the tone of the flute that I hadn't understood. All along my teachers have emphasized getting a focused, intense sound on the flute, and I'm getting there. He explained what that means acoustically. 

If you don't have a focused tone, the overtones aren't in tune with each other or with the fundamental note. That's the definition of "unfocused." When you have a focused tone, they line up and reinforce each other. That's why it's important to practice producing overtones, and it's also why the note-bending exercise is important. Bouriakov advised not to try to get a "good" sound while you're practicing note-bending, but simply bringing the note down as low as you can. At the same time, if you listen to what's happening while you bend the note, you can hear when the overtones are aligned, as you get to that point, go past it, and return to it.

You can't bend notes if your lips are tense, and if your lips are tense, you will play out of tune.

Why is one tense when one plays? Because of fear. Fear of making a mistake. Fear of trying to play a note and not having it sound. Fear of not being able to play a run fast enough and evenly, accurately. How do you get rid of fear? 

Before a performance, even (maybe especially) amateur musicians are afraid of messing up. Musicians often face auditions, where their professional futures are at stake, as well as contests. In fact, every performance is a test - are they good enough? Confidence can overcome fear and tension. Overcoming tension builds confidence. Even more: joy.

Bouriakov is now the principal flutist of the Los Angeles philharmonic, whose musical director is Gustavo Dudamel. I've seen a few clips of Dudamel conducting. He projects enthusiasm for the music, and I'm sure he communicates it to the musicians in the orchestra.

If I can learn to relax, maybe I can liberate the joy I find in playing.