To perform from memory, or not?

With the performances just around the corner, I can not tell you how many people have asked if would be performing the six suites from memory.

Let me begin by saying that I strongly believe that in order to perform a piece well, one should know it from memory in all of its details.
However... should one always perform it without the music at least nearby?
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
...

I have decided that I will NOT perform the suites from memory!

While the ability to perform all suites from memory is hugely admirable, I don't think I could enjoy the performance the same way if I were to perform all six suites from memory. I would be too afraid I might loose sight of the "big picture", would feel restricted, too worried if I might possibly end up at the wrong end of a passage and having to improvise my way out of it.
Instead I think I would prefer having the music comfortably with me, giving me the freedom to re-invent my interpretation every time again.

I think that this way I would enjoy the performance.

How would the audience feel if I played from music? Would they care? Would the enjoy it more? Would they find it distracting? Would they find it embarrassing?

Some cultures emphasize the importance of performing from memory. The North American culture (if such a thing exists) is one of them, and so seem the Eastern European and Russian schools to be. For some of them there simply is "no other way".

When I am in an audience, I do not care if the performer does or does not have the music. What I care about is whether it is clear that the musician knows the music well and that the performance moves me.

I have, on occasion, felt very uncomfortable when musicians (some very famous ones!) lost their place and either had to start over or improvise to get out of their predicament. In those cases I never fully relaxed again in the audience, because; "what if he or she gets lost again?!"
Some musicians get consoled by the idea that even very seasoned performers get lost. "if it can happen to them, it does not matter so much that I struggle with these issues as well!"
I feel differently: "they" can get away with it; "they" will be forgiven very easily, given their status. However when I loose it in performance, I have to prove myself all over again.

On the other hand; I have listened to ill prepared performances where the performer was clearly just reading the notes. This too, is very uncomfortable, if not irritating, no matter how talented or famous the performer.

Hence my first sentence: in order to perform a piece well, one should know it from memory in all of its details.
For me, however, to be able to be creative, free, expressive and to enjoy it myself, I like to have the comfort of music in the vicinity.

Last fall I went to the second Amsterdam cello biennial. Every morning started with a different Bach suite, performed by a different cellist. These were all played from memory. At many other concerts including some cello concertos performed by very seasoned cellists, as well as most concerts involving cello and piano, the musicians had music in front of them.
I asked my former prof what he thought of the whole issue of memorizing. I remember that during my university years it was never insisted upon that we'd perform from memory, though we did need to be able to play the pieces from memory in our lessons.
He said: "you'd be an idiot to play that concert from memory" (referring to performing six Bach suites in one afternoon). Then he quoted famous Viola da Gamba virtuoso Jordi Savall to emphasize his point.
At a masterclass for Savall, one particular student was playing one of the gamba sonatas by Bach from memory. Savall apparently did not like that. Apparently he said "when you are playing from memory, you are placing yourself between the composer and the music. What you will hear is the performer, not the composer, and who are you to think you are better than Bach!"

You have to remember that I did not hear him say it first hand, so it may have been quoted incorrectly, but I do agree that for me, playing with the music, especially with the manuscript, allows me to interpret the composers wishes more truthfully.

Now that we are on the topic of manuscript: when you read manuscript, it gives you a great insight in the composers' head. Just by the way notes are grouped, slurs are placed, where notes are placed in relation to others, we tend to change the way we perform them.
Unfortunately we do not have an original copy by Bach of the suites. Thank goodness we have several good copies, including the one from his wife Anna Magdalena and some, that appear to have come from the same source, are remarkably similar. It gives us as close a glimpse into what he wrote as we can have.
Will I perform from one of those? Probably not, but they are always there when I practice. It is amazing how much the interpretation changes depending on which copy I play from!

This art of music writing will soon be lost forever. Many music students don't even learn to write music by hand anymore!
With composers largely writing on computers now we are on one hand relieved that we never again have to read badly copied scores but we are on the other hand sad, because we can no longer see the personality of the composer...

...and the winner is...

A much needed update on my blog is definitely required!

What have I been up to all this time?

Well...

I practiced...

and performed....

and practiced....

And performed some more...

At the end of this week I am going to Harbin in China to perform three, possibly four Bach suites on “Canada Night” as part of the opening ceremonies of the 2009 Universiade Games. This concert will sort of be the jump start of many performances; see my website for details!

In the mean time my journey with my four cellos has been an exciting one. I have grown to respect and admire the qualities in all four instruments.

I have done a few performances already, each teaching me more about what I am playing with.

Concert in Spruce Grove, Alberta. Explainations are in order.

With a project like this, audiences almost inadvertently want an answer to the question:

“which instrument is better?”

Opinions are much divided.

AND...; is “better “truly what I am searching for?!?

My personal answer to that: Not really; they are all so different, and each has its strength and weakness. And sometimes its strength can also be its weakness...

For my audiences... AH!... to be part of such discussion and clashes of opinion: excitement!!

I will share some of my experiences and findings with you.

In today’s environment we tend to relate all live performances to recordings we have. The expectation on the performer is to be “as good as the recording”.

If that is the prerequisite, the carbon fibre cello is the all round winner. It is clean, easy and fast. Everything I do on it sounds much cleaner than on any other instrument.

However: what is the sacrifice? The older instruments have character, complications, temperaments...

Have you ever listened to old recordings of master players such as cellist Pablo Casals, pianist Claudio Arrau or guitarist Andres Segovia, to name just a few? Many of those recordings were done just in one take and then never tampered with. It is difficult to listen to that today, if what you are looking for is so called “perfection”, but it sure gives us a connection to the performer and pure music does shine through. These recordings are much more like a live performance, and as a listener you feel as if you are a little bit part of the art as it was being created.

Today’s recordings are done in multiple takes, and performers take from those only the sections they like, splice parts of other takes in there and “voila”; we have the perfect recording!

There is both good and bad to this. With the old style recordings, the listener anticipates certain mistakes or out of tune sections after having listened to a recording several times. With today’s recordings, that toe-curling experience is now eliminated. You lose some of the flow though, and the sense of being part of the art. Only very few performers will still record mostly complete takes and use them in order to keep the emotion, the flow.

For the live performer this search for perfection has created a huge obstacle; we have to measure up! This too is good and bad; we have in general become much better performers because of it, but have we sacrificed some of the true art? When I listen to some very old recordings of the great cellists like Casals, Piatagorsky, Fournier, and many more, I wonder if that statement is true; are we really better players? Maybe not; those guys sure could play!

Spending some time in the practice room.

My old Mirecourt cello had his good days and his bad days.

I know that sounds funny, but it is true. Some days I will pick him up and he sounds absolutely fantastic, and thus: so do I!

Other days he sounds terrible. He will be cranky, moody, and uncooperative. And thus, I sound much like that!

I do, however, have a much stronger “relationship” with this instrument, than I do with my carbon fibre cello. On the other hand; when I get frustrated with the Mirecourt, the carbon fibre allows me to cool down, regain my confidence and does not complain. At what cost? Well, strictly technically speaking, the carbon is superior; I sacrifice character and depth. It is not the instrument for every day. But if I am cranky or just PMS-ing: give me the carbon!

For the Mirecourt, I also make sure I create the “ideal” environment for him: I try to keep the humidity around 50% and check temperature and barometric pressure, so I can adjust anything at any time.

On a stage, the instrument will do what it feels like doing anyway. If I haven’t played him enough he’ll get back at me and misbehave, or reward me when I have spent a lot of time together with him in the practice room.

Did you notice how I refer to this cello as “him”? It has been like that from the moment I got him and I have never had that with any other instrument, except briefly with a cello from California maker Andrew Carruthers. Had I not been so attached to this cello it would have become my companion for sure. I still think about that cello....

The baroque cello is an entirely different beast. It is much less predictable...yet!

The gut strings do not help either. The strings are made out of sheep gut and are extremely sensitive to temperature or barometric pressure changes. If it is not “just right” they will squeak and squawk. I have come to like this cello a lot; it is so warm and the bass is deep and resonant.

Tuning the baroque instruments frequently during performance.

In Bach’s time the expectations on the instruments were very different than today. Of course some of the very best instruments ever were created around that time, but most of the time many of the instruments were kept in less than ideal situations: too dry, too humid, usually cold and damp in the winter, kept in unheated rooms and then suddenly brought into a space heated by a fireplace. ..You can imagine the stress on the instruments. Many string instruments were cracked and had open seams, altering their sound and response enormously.

The gut strings broke frequently and musicians, poor as they often were, could not afford to buy new strings so they would just tie a knot in the string, even if it were in the middle of the string. Because of this, the instruments were also much more out of tune so larger orchestras emerged, since being out of tune was less noticeable in the larger ensemble.

Gut strings tend to get false quickly. This either means changing strings very regular (which is very expensive!), or live with it and change strings only a few weeks prior to important concerts. This gives the strings just enough time to allow them to stretch and reach their maximum sound quality, not long enough for them to become false again.

To the modern ear, many baroque string instruments sound indeed a little out of tune if they are not part of a larger ensemble. To our ear they also sound quite soft.

Because the neck is set in at a straighter angle, their bass bar is shorter, they are tuned at A415 rather than A440 and for many other technical reasons I won’t discuss here (Google it, if you are interested) they project much less than their contemporary brothers. It does, however, gives us a glimpse into the era that Bach wrote it in and the type of instrument he had in mind.

But how far do we want to go in trying to reproduce that?

This is exactly the issue that this whole project is about.

And I don’t want to commit to an answer, since I change my mind just about every fifteen minutes!!

The baroque instrument has its limitations to modern performers and audiences. But at the same time it has huge advantages, if you are open to it.

If, as an audience, you are willing to put aside your perfectionism, your need for extreme clarity in sound and are willing to open your mind and replace all of the above with character, colour and intimacy, then you will find it a very rewarding experience to listen to period performances.

The words “period performance” opens an entirely different can of worms... This will be a future blog entry!

I feel that I have very strong opinions about how a Bach suite ought to be performed. I either agree or disagree; seldom do I find myself neutral.

I do want to mention that I disagree that one should approach Bach the same way one approaches Brahms or Shostakovich. That does not mean you should get too fundamentalist about it though. I will discuss this in more detail a future blog entry.

This whole project so far has been a humbling experience. Because... I am such a different player with each instrument! And while I find I have a strong opinion about performance practice, I have to compromise somewhat, depending on the instrument I play. And to my own surprise, I can’t say that I prefer one over the other; it is just very different! I do sometimes feel strongly that I prefer one cello, but the next day I change my mind again. In general I find that, even during a performance, every time I change from one instrument to the next, the previous instrument sounded much better to me than the next one. As I am playing it and get used to it, I find that the instrument I play right now is always the best one though!

Generalizing quite a bit;

The carbon fibre is a great instrument to show off virtuosity.

With the baroque cello and the Mirecourt cello, I can move people with expression and sensitivity.

This just means I end up working very hard to get that expression out of the carbon fibre cello and the virtuosity out of the Mirecourt. They all teach me to become a better player and... it keeps me humble!

Like I have said before; I find myself searching for some qualities of the carbon fibre cello in the baroque cello, and vice versa. In addition, I cherish some things on each instrument and use them to accentuate the qualities of that instrument.

I will try to explain it through a few examples out of the suites (I repeat myself a little from previous blog entries):

Example 1:

The fingering choice is different depending on the instrument:

Prelude to 2^nd suite, opening bars; d-f-a:

· Open strings are very nice on the baroque cello. The a-string sounds warm, mellow and resonates just right.

· This fingering is OK, but a little harsh on the Mirecourt, so I prefer to play an open d and a stopped a.

· Open strings are just unacceptable on the Carbon I have to play a stopped d and a, or it sounds just silly.

Is one “better”?? Not persé; just very different!

Example 2:

Tempo choice is very different, depending on the instrument as well:

Bars 45 to 61 in Prelude of the third suite:

· Nice on baroque, but slower and obviously difficult. On this cello the pedal point sounds very mellow and actually very nice; easy to control; it will not “bark” at you when you play it and stands out just enough to not be obnoxious.

· Quite easy on Mirecourt. The pedal point is still nice, but much harder to control.

· Super easy on Carbon. The pedal point stands out almost too much if you don’t control it. But then again: at this speed it will be over before you know it!

Is one “better”?? Not persé; just very different!

Example 3:

Expression is very different.

The Sarabande of the 5^th suite:

· Very slow and haunting on the baroque cello. The gut strings demand time and effort.

· A little less slow on the Mirecourt. The steel strings respond quickly. To play it as slow as on the baroque cello would sound very artificial.

· Very different on the Carbon. This instrument responds almost too easy for the expression that I am looking for. I need to pull out a whole new series of “tricks” to try to mimic the emotional effect the piece had on the baroque cello.

Is one “better”?? Not persé; just very different!

The 6^th suite.

Now we are comparing 3 instruments against one; the piccolo. And the winner is....

Yes: this suite is brutally difficult on a 4 string instrument; forcing the cellist to go way up on the fingerboard and execute nearly impossible double stops.

It is close to impossible on a baroque cello, since its fingerboard is much shorter than that of a modern cello, and thus forces the cellist to play past the end of the fingerboard: pretty nasty sounding!

On the modern instruments it is slightly easier, but inconvenient (although I found that I can play it better on a four string now that I know it so intimately on the 5-strings: it has taught me to think about fingering quite differently!)

On the piccolo you could almost say it is “easy” (I said almost; it is not an easy suite by any stretch of the imagination!).

With the 5^th string you rarely venture above the 4^th position.

Of course the 5 strings pose their own challenges. Initially the fact that you now have the d string sitting on the highest point of the bridge poses some right hand confusion and unintended double stops. In addition, the fact that the instrument is quite a bit smaller and you have 5 string very close together is challenging for intonation. But once you get past that, it is pure bliss! I don’t understand why not every cello has 5 strings; it would make our life so much easier!!

This piccolo cello is a baroque instrument. But because it is so much smaller and so different than all the others, I find that I don’t compare it as much. It just has its own place, without competition, where the other three instruments truly behave as competitors!

My Violoncello Piccolo

I now officially own a violoncello piccolo.

(My first seconds with the new piccolo)

Last week I picked up the piccolo from Ifshin at their new store in El Cerrito, California. They had just moved there from Berkeley.

(The new Ifshin building in El Cerrito)

Haide Lin had arrived with my piccolo from China on April 1, and on April 10 I arrived on their door step to pick it up.
This was unusually soon after it had come from China. The instrument was built in China in the shop of Ifshin. Their luthiers over there work much the way they would have in the shop of Vuillaume in Mirecourt in the 1800's: one highly skilled person carves only scrolls. The other one carves top plates and yet another bends sides and one person makes varnish and applies it. Because they do only one thing, these people are remarkably good at it. Haide goes there every few months to help and instruct.
They make a lot of different instruments, most of them are more or less mass production.

However; my violoncello piccolo is another story. As I have told you in previous blog entries: very little is known about the violoncello piccolo. The exact size remains unknown. There are violoncello piccolo's as small as 1/2 size cellos, and some as big as 7/8 size cellos. People such as Dmitri Badiarov seem to have discovered proof that the piccolo was really more like a huge viola played on the right shoulder of the performer. Cellists of course, love to dispute that, since the Bach suites are sacred to us and certainly a violist should never touch them! I guess we cellists shouldn't be too protective of the suites. After all: it is such beautiful music: who wouldn't want to play them! The whole debate about the violoncello piccolo is great. The more people are talking about it, the more it will get researched!

I had opted to have a piccolo built that is roughly 3/4 the size of a baroque cello, but with the sides as thick as that of a regular cello, so that there is more air volume inside. This increases the chance that there is a decent C string on the cello, with enough depth.

For the people at Ifshin, both in California and in China this seemed an exciting challenge.

And?
It worked!
It is great.
It is exciting.

When Haide arrived in El Cerrito with the instrument the beginning of April, he first put it in a kind of dryer to make it suitable for the ridiculous climate it would be going to. It stayed there for 4 days until there was not a drop of moisture left in the instrument. He made a fingerboard, soundpost, two bridges (he liked the 2nd one better) and set up the cello.

As I said: I arrived the afternoon of April 10 and spent a few hours with Haide moving the soundpost and bridge until it seemed right for the moment.

(Haide works with me on the perfect set-up of the violoncello piccolo)

I brought the instrument to my hotel in San Francisco and played it for a few hours. I was to be back in El Cerrito the next day to tweak some more.

Playing 5 strings for the first time was so interesting! Can you imagine: I have never played the 6th suite. Sure: I have tried to "plough through it" on numerous occasions, only to be frustrated by the difficulty. On this Thursday evening, in my hotel room in San Francisco I played it without interruption from the beginning to the end! I couldn't help wondering: why don't all cellos have 5 strings?!?

The biggest challenge was not even the new high e-string; it was trying to find the d and G strings! More about that in later blog entries.

It turned out that the C string was hitting the fingerboard too much when I played.

The next day at the shop of Ifshin, we decided to put a resonator inside the instrument to take care of the small wolf and Haide would take the fingerboard off the cello that evening and shave it down. This meant leaving it overnight for the glue to dry. It also meant we would have to leave a day later than we had planned to drive back to Edmonton (yes: we drove down to San Francisco).

(Jay Ifshin and Haide Lin are debating what to do next)

On Saturday we were back at the shop in the morning. Haide usually does not work on Saturday but ended up being there all day to set up my cello well. He made a new soundpost. That worked. The only thing was... the C string still didn't vibrate freely. Gut strings vibrate very wide and it kept hitting the fingerboard.
And that surely wouldn't get any better in Edmonton.

(In Haide's workshop on Saturday morning)

Eventually Haide cut a small incision in the neck, where it connects with the top plate. The neck now came forward and the fingerboard dropped. It worked. In order to do this he had to open the top plate seam and of course glue it back together once he was done. It had to stay in the glue clamps for a while: preferably overnight. But we were leaving the next morning at 6 am!

We took the cello, clamps and all, and dropped the clamps off on Haide's door step on our way out the next morning!

Of course playing it at home is so different. Now it is suddenly real! I have started practising the Prelude and Allemande of the 6th suite. It is so much fun!
I also rushed in an order for some e-strings! They are so thin: I am sure this e string will break soon.

I had (shallowly perhaps) requested that the piccolo would look different from the baroque cello that I have from them. The varnish did not quite turn out as dark as Haide had wished but it is still quite different from the baroque cello that I have.
They also antiqued it differently, so to the untrained eye it really shouldn't look like I am playing the same instrument when I play them back to back.

(The baroque cello and the piccolo together)

I also have sight read through some Boccherini sonatas. They are difficult! But not so much on a piccolo. How fun!

While in California we went to visit Andy Carruthers and spent a great day with him and his family.
I also got to play "the" cello again. It is still so great!! It is such a powerful instrument. And so intimate at the same time. Someone will fall so in love with that cello! It made my heart beat faster and ache, that is for sure... I seem to have such connection with the instrument. Unfortunately my bank account won't allow me to have yet another instrument.
When I do some performances of the suites in California I will certainly include a Carruthers cello in the series! (I secretly hope it will be this one, but for Andy I hope it will sell before that time!).

The other thing about going to California in this time of year: THEY HAVE FLOWERS!!

While I love Edmonton, there is a two month time that I would rather skip every year.
From mid March to early May. It is brown. While it is usually sunny; I do miss the flowers.

(Calla Lilies are really tall!)

And this weekend here in Edmonton is ridiculous: it is snowing... (yes: that is unusual, even for here)! I feel energized though, by the spring that we had there. And it sure is less busy here!

(California Poppies)

ENGLAND Update:

For those of you wondering how my England experience was: I had a lot of fun.
The performance was fun. It is difficult to imagine that no one even noticed that I had a carbon fibre cello!
But I was sure glad I had brought it.

Even though Air Canada had promised to hand carry the instrument in and out of the plane and put it on the belt for fragile items: it came tumbling down the regular luggage belt and even landed on the bridge...
Needless to say that I nearly had a heart attack.
But the cello was not even out of tune!

(Performance at Canada House on Trafalgar Square in London, UK)