Readers' Poll: Who is Your Favorite French Composer?

This is one of my all-time favorite quotes from Pierre Bernac's The Interpretation of French Song:

The mixture of harmonic sensuousness and clarity of thought explains why French music so well conveys precise and colourful description, or the suggestion of a poetic climate. The composer Henry Barraud writes: "A French musician knows that one does not reach poetical achievement, the one aim of all aesthetic creation, merely through verbalism and self-exhibition. Other quicker, surer roads are to be found, and there is nothing like the unexpressed, to make the inexpressible understood."

Who is your favorite French composer?

Answer the question on the latest CPB poll, which can be found on the right-hand sidebar of any blog page for the next few days. Those of you reading on email or via RSS reader can vote here.

Voting closes at 9pm on Sunday night, after which the winning composer will be crowned.

Beware of Moving Pianos

For those of you who enjoyed Ellen Johansen's hilarious recital-preparation story a few days ago, here's another one, this time from Jan Grimes, coordinator of the venerable collaborative piano program at Louisiana State University.

I have a funny story to share with you; one of many working with students that have contributed to my salt and “silver” hair!!!

This soprano (who sold Mary Kay products by night) was in the green room before her recital when she suddenly wanted to “go over” that spot that she had such difficulty counting in “the Monk and his Cat.” As we did so, she made the same mistakes as usual, but when I informed her of that her response was, “Oh, I just wanted to see how well you would ‘follow’ me.” !!!!#@ .......my internal reaction. I smiled and encouraged her to sing whatever she was doing with confidence and that I would be with her. Well, in the recital all went as I expected: dropped rests here, prolonged breaths there, and wrong words everywhere. However, she did surprise me with one thing. You must picture this young lady as a fully grown diva, and as Gerald Moore says, “the curve of the piano was made to fit.” As she was singing one of her last selections, and as the finish line was now in sight for her, she really began to THROW herself into her music, so much so that she threw herself back on the piano and it moved over an octave to my left!!!! I quickly directed my page turner, with a stern look to avoid debate, to put his foot behind the wheel. ( I think he was afraid for his appendage.) Well, we all survived and I was as happy as anyone when this event was over. The only thing I have neglected to tell you so far was a non-musical thing that happened during the intermission. As we all know, we collaborative pianists do much more than play the piano. We are cheerleaders, team players, coaches, and sometimes “locker room” assistants. With that in mind, I must tell you that this young, but large, diva was wearing a body suit under her gown and after a visit to the powder room during intermission found that she couldn’t reconnect the snaps. Well, the rest of the story is obvious. I was gracious and kind the entire time, but inside.........you can imagine. :)

If you have a hilarious story that you would like to share, send me at note any time. I can either credit you or list it from an anonymous source.

(Thanks, Jan!)

Beyond the Mozart Effect?

Whether the Mozart Effect actually exists and can improve spatial-temporal reasoning is a matter that has been often debated. But what if there were documented effects for the music of other composers and musical styles? Messybeast looks at what some of these might be:

BABBITT EFFECT: Child gibbers nonsense all the time. Eventually, people stop listening to him. Child doesn't care because all his playmates think he's cool.

BRUCKNER EFFECT: Child speaks very slowly and repeats himself frequently. Gains reputation for profundity.

SCHOENBERG EFFECT: Child never repeats a word until he's used all the other words in his vocabulary. Sometimes talks backwards. Eventually, people stop listening to him. Child blames them for their inability to understand him.

STOCKHAUSEN EFFECT: All you get out of the child is an atonal cacophony, but those around him are conned into believing it has some sort of artistic merit.

For the whole list, check out The Mozart Effect...and Beyond.

Follow...no...Join....er.....Like the Collaborative Piano Blog Facebook Page

Not all the action on the Collaborative Piano Blog is actually on the blog these days. Join Like the CPB's Facebook Page (with 1100 fans and counting) and you'll see a lot of stuff that won't end up here. Many of you will have by now heard about the hilarious Parker's Practice Tips series by University of Toronto faculty member and Gryphon Trio pianist James Parker. Since he uploads his videos to Facebook, they're only viewable within its walled garden. As of tonight, I've added Out of Tune Piano and Lieder Translations Parts 1 and 2, with many more to come in the next few days.

I've also recently discovered that there are several key figures in the collaborative piano field who secretly read CPB articles in their free time, but who won't join Facebook because it would "send the wrong signal" or "damage their standing in the profession". Never fear, all is not lost. Here's what you can do: simply ask one of your students to log into Facebook between lessons so that they can visit the CPB Facebook page and watch the videos. Then ask them to go to People for the Ethical Treatment of Accompanists for the really lurid horror stories of the pianist's life...

You're Cutting How Many Bars?

Earlier today, East Hampton-based pianist and teacher Ellen Johansen sent along a hilarious story about playing a concert for cantors and choir. I too play in a reform synagogue (although only for High Holy Days), and can attest to the high level of sight reading, score reading, chart reading, and transposition that is required. What remains so fascinating for me as a non-Jewish pianist working in this setting is not just learning the music, figuring out the order and style of the service, nor for that matter remembering to read the machzorim (prayer books) from back to front, but the experience of learning a living tradition that goes back thousands of years.

Here is Ellen's letter in its entirety, reprinted with her kind permission:

Dear Chris,

I have been reading your blog for a few months now and I remember you were sharing stories about accompanying experiences that no one would want. I just finished one in this category and it has many elements of horror! I was hired to accompany a landmark event. This concert would be a cantorial concert including an orthodox male choir, an orthodox male cantor and, never ever had this happened before, a female reformed cantor, who is my regular cantor. It is taboo for the orthodox to hear her sing, let alone share a piece with her. So I was the unwitting accompanist for this event.

A month before the concert, my Cantor was emailing the conductor asking for their music, but the emails were not being acknowledged Day after day we received no music until one week before the concert. Then it came in drips and drabs, some faxed (I call this dirty music) and some pdfs (they were not much better - most cantorial music is barely written out and the piano is more of a concept, but that's another story.) I was planning to use my airturn and Music Reader so as the music came in I would add them to my Music Reader playlist. I often had to rewrite the piano parts (and figure out the music in the haze of fax world) using my PrintMusic program. Adding the Hebrew lyrics was taking too much time and I was told it not to spend the time because often the words for the prayer do not quite fit the rhythm of the part so the music is altered to make the words fit better.

This Friday I suddenly got 7 more pieces, arias, a chorus with a complicated piano part and I had lots of practicing along with the other 20 pieces. There was no set order yet. The rehearsal was booked on the day of the concert.

Day of the concert, the choir was 40 minutes late and the other cantor didn't arrive. When we started the first piece, the conductor said, "you do have the piano part for this?" Of course I didn't. I had re-written the dirty score (with no words) that was emailed with only vocal parts and my cantor and I figured I would just play the vocal parts. He gave me the piano part. It was in a totally different key from the score he sent me. My Cantor was singing the high part and I was concerned the higher key would be difficult. Not to worry, he would give the high notes to a member of the choir. So I sight read it. My Cantor seemed comfortable so we moved on. Of course the music was now not on my computer so I would have to turn the pages manually and because it was a two sided copy I was turning and slapping them onto a pile. Suddenly I was lost...oh, there was a repeat from page 11 back to page 5! Sure I can do this without a page turner! Uh, oh, a coda somewhere, but don't worry I can find this. I do often wonder if we pianists should come to rehearsals dressed as a super hero.

We began another piece that was with the other choir and the not yet arrived cantor. I was asked to create a two measure opening. As the choir began to sing I realized my score wasn't matching what the choir and missing cantor would be singing. I stopped and asked and the choir answered that each member had a different score! The conductor said that was not a problem. As we resumed the conductor would sort of sing the cantor part. The conductor kept stopping to correct what I was doing including removing measures because the canter tended to ignore those measures. "OK," I said and made what ever annotations I could. When he would begin the conductor would say go to... and then say something in Hebrew. I didn't have the words in my score so I kept asking for measure numbers. This really annoyed him. I asked when the Cantor would arrive so we could rehearse with him. The choir laughed and asked when does the concert start. "4:00", I answered, "5:30" was their responses. Ha, ha. We continued this way through the rehearsal (or non-rehearsal I am not sure what it was) adding notes on tempo changes and dynamic changes that may or may not happen depending on the mood of the absent cantor. It was 30 minutes before the concert and then I insisted that I needed to change. The conductor ran to the piano and asked me if I could play just two more pieces I had not yet seen. They had no piano part. I was to improvise with the choir. I said I could but I wouldn't!

I was finally given order of the program and most of the pieces were cut including all of the last minute arias!

Five minutes before the concert the male cantor came striding in. I was introduced and he said he "couldn't make it to the rehearsal because he was taking a walk in the woods, ha, ha." I said, "I hope you don't continue to walk in the woods when I am accompanying you." He actually didn't hear me, he was too far into his arrogance but the choir heard and were snidely laughing behind him.

During the concert he decided to pay attention to some of measures that were "cut" by the conductor. He would glare at me as if I had missed something. It became quite a game. I decided to just follow him and let him sing. He did not vocalize before the concert so you could imagine the first piece was quite skreechy and flat. ( I wonder if the walk in the woods was with wine). Of course the concert was a huge success (I even found all the turn backs in my manual music) and my air turn worked like a charm (the last minute shuffling of the pieces on the playlist was great) although I learned that "new" batteries from a large pack of batteries offered by the Synagogue concert coordinator does not mean new. My airturn did not work too well for the first piece so I manually turned the first piece and then switched back to my re-chargeables.

At the end of the concert the cantors and conductors got flowers. The Male cantor gave me his flowers.

At least my dress looked gorgeous. Oh, I foolishly added a performance of Un Sospiro in the middle as a break for the singers. I had also decided to change my biography and mention that I teach an adult piano class and had many old ladies come to me after the concert and slip me their telephone numbers.

There, my concert that no one would want to accompany. I have a feeling they are going to ask me again next year.....until they get my bill.

(Thanks, Ellen!)

Dani Rosenoer Plays and Smashes Piano in Punching Keys

Longtime CPB readers will recall that I'm a fan of piano destruction videos (evidence here, here and here), so it's no surprise that I enjoyed Dani Rosenoer's Punching Keys, in which he plays, smashes, and kicks an abandoned piano in the wilderness. Stick around for the action sequence at the 1-minute mark:



If you enjoyed Dani's music, check out the pay-what-you-want downloads of his music at Everyone's Talking.

Thomas Glenn Sings Jack Perla's We Would Fall

The art song is alive and well in San Francisco. From the Noe Valley Chamber Music Fundraiser on May 23 (previously mentioned here) Thomas Glenn sings Jack Perla's We Would Fall - Jack is also the pianist:



Also be sure to check out Jack's new website and blog to keep up with his latest projects.