By Janet Horvath, Interlude

During the 150th anniversary of Rachmaninoff’s birth, pianist Yuja Wang undertook an extraordinary feat. She performed all the Rachmaninoff Piano Concertos and the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini in one marathon concert at Carnegie Hall on January 28, 2023. Wang appeared with the Philadelphia Orchestra and Maestro Yannick Nézet- Séguin. The audience was treated to a four-hour program, with two intermissions, consisting of 97,076 notes and 621 pages of music. But who’s counting? It turns out that noting the numbers was part of the evening. Wang was asked to wear a device to track her heartbeat during the concert, and so did the conductor, nine members of the orchestra, and six members of the audience. The results of this experiment are quite extraordinary.

The ganjingworld investigation began with statistics: Yuja Wang has played so far, Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 2, thirty-five times, Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 1, fourteen times, Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 4, twenty-one times, Rachmaninoff Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini thirty-one times, and Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 3, a total of 72 times.

No one had ever attempted playing all of Rachmaninoff’s five works for piano solo with the orchestra before. Who else would have the stamina to do it? It’s akin to winning a gold medal in the Olympics or climbing Mount Everest.

In planning the program, Yuja decided the 3rd Piano Concerto had to conclude the program as it is the epitome of emotion, drama, and physicality. Who can play anything after that?

Unsurprisingly, Wang’s virtuosity and musicality were riveting from beginning to end. Wang also amazed the audience with a different outfit for each concerto while keeping track of the tracking device.

© Carnegie Hall

When the results were revealed to Wang, it was uncanny that she could look at the graph and identify exactly where she was in the music just by looking at the peaks and the valleys of her heartbeats.

The highest peaks, of course, occur where the music is physically or psychologically difficult. As a benchmark note, resting beats per minute is approximately 62 BPM. During the finale of the 2nd Concerto, her heart rate reached 139 BPM, predictably where there are more notes, and it’s faster and louder. During the finale of the 3rd Concerto, she surpassed that number at 146 BPM. But the highest level reached 149 BPM— 233% more than resting—was during the finale of the 4th Concerto.

The interesting thing is that Wang’s heart rate didn’t always consistently go up when it was loud and fast or just in the finales. In fact, the 3rd Concerto, despite being the longest and most difficult concerto, on average, indicated the lowest BPM rates. Wang thinks there are two reasons for this slower heart rate. Spiritually, the piece has a calming effect on her. Technically, as an elite and superbly skilled pianist, she’s able to save her energy when needed during the performance. Her heart rate is affected by how economical her movements are.

There is a third possibility to consider. Perhaps the reason her heartbeats were higher in the first and fourth concertos is that Wang has had the least experience performing these works. If she was more keyed up, it certainly would affect one’s heart rate.

Another statistic amused Yuja Wang. The numbers indicated how much harder she worked than the conductor. She: 2,427 calories burned and 20,275 steps taken; He: 1,645 calories burned and 15,079 steps taken.

Vindicated! We musicians know this! But Yannick actually recorded the highest peak, higher than any of Wang’s uppermost BPMs, when he reached 153 BPM in the final variations #19-24 of the Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. It is, of course, a very exciting ending, and it’s strenuous to marshal all the musicians for this mighty climax, as it is for us to play it.

Throughout his career, Nézet-Seguin has sought to bring people in sync with his music-making. He was astonished when he saw this reflected on the graph. There is an amazing synchronicity when comparing the heartbeats of the soloist and the conductor. Yuja and Yannick were musically and physically on the same wavelength throughout. But even more impressive, even during Wang’s cadenzas, when the orchestra and the conductor were “at rest,” their heartbeats rose in sync with the soloist’s playing and emotion. Whenever the music became more emotionally intense, the constant interdependence between all the musicians on stage, even when they weren’t playing, was notable. The phenomenon could be seen in the tracking devices of audience members as well. Their heartbeats went up, too, during the emotionally moving sections.

Does this occur in other settings? Choir music and song have permeated civilisations throughout different cultures and religions. In a 2013 study, it was documented that when choirs sing, their heartbeats become synchronized, beating as one. An article in NPR and the BBC World Service in July of 2013 reported that researchers of the Sahlgrenska Academy at the University of Gothenburg in Sweden studied the heart rates of a high school choir in a variety of choral works. They published their results in Frontiers in Neuroscience. Singers must exhale and inhale in a coordinated fashion. The findings showed that singing in a choir calmed the singer’s heart rate, especially when they were singing in unison, and within a few moments, each person’s heartbeat became synchronised. Somehow, the singers’ collective consciousness is connected to each other. Their controlled breathing, as we’ve seen in yoga and in other meditational practices, had a quietening effect.

Listen to The VocalEssence Ensemble Singers conducted by Philip Brunelle perform “The Day is Done” by Minnesota composer Stephen Paulus to a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. “And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall be banished like restless feelings, That silently steal away.”

I can’t help respiring, sighing with them.

Stephen Paulus: The Day in Done 

Choirs breathe together, but so do wind and brass musicians in a band, ensemble, or orchestra—to make a phrase, to play seamlessly, and to express the musical lines homogeneously. Many audience members may not know that string players must also breathe together, especially during chamber music performances when we don’t have a conductor. The sniff at the beginning of a piece, in addition to body language, will lead colleagues, much like a conductor’s upbeat, and the rate of the sniff indicates many things—when to play, the type of entrance, the rhythm, the meter, the style. Breathing helps us stay together and to feel the music as one.

The Yuja Wang Rachmaninoff Heartbeat Study was more than an amusing experiment. Dr. Bjorn Vickhoff concludes, “We speculate that it is possible singing could also be beneficial.” Performing and listening to music is good for us and is a positive experience which can synchronise our heartbeats. Unlike many other activities, music can bring people of all ages, cultures, and backgrounds together, in sync, in harmony, despite wide-ranging experiences with music.

Here is the video of the entire study courtesy of Yuja Wang, and Carnegie Hall, director Joe Sabia, producer Greg T. Gordon, Images Carnegie Hall Rose Archives, Cartoon Jeffrey Curnow.

The Blame Game – Musicians’ Excuses When Things Go Wrong

by Janet Horvath

Several years ago, I wrote an article entitled The Dog Ate My Music- Excuses for Not Practicing.

Those of us who are musicians have tried these excuses with varying success; teachers have heard them all. Just like in other professions, musicians can be guilty of procrastinating.

After several months, once we do our dedicated practising and have put in the long, sometimes frustrating hours, our recital, concert, audition, and competition are upon us. What could possibly go wrong? Despite our best efforts, something does. These may be out of our control, like a distracting noise in the hall, terrible chairs, poor lighting, an out-of-tune piano to play with; and some not, like going to the wrong hall, arriving at the wrong time, or forgetting your music, your shoulder rest, your mouthpiece, your shoes, your glasses, or your pants. While we’re playing, no matter the hours of practice, we might have a memory slip, miss a passage, or lose our place in the music. When things happen, musicians once again come up with ingenious excuses, otherwise called the Blame Game.

How many times have we been challenged, if not foiled, by our surroundings? I’ll never forget the recital I played in a historical hall in Rome, most often used for theatrical productions. I had to make my way through a thick, dark blue velvet curtain behind which, was a minefield of stage sets, piles of wood, props, tinsel, and dust. Once I was able to negotiate getting onto the stage, snagging my dress in an exposed nail, I might add, I was alarmed to find that the rake or slope of the stage was at an incline that made me woozy. It may have helped to improve with the illusion of perspective and increase the sight lines for spectators, but once I staggered to my seat, the chair and me on the seat kept sliding forward, especially whenever I played forte. You can imagine the result in a piece like Brahms Sonata for Cello and Piano in F major Op. 99, which begins very loudly and with passion. 

Performance anxiety can often get the better of us. Some musicians are not plagued by nerves, while it undoes others (and we are so jealous of them.) That subject is quite another story.

The following excuses are ever-present in the musician’s world. (For novices, there are some notes at the end of the article.)

I shouldn’t have had that double cappuccino.

I was too hungry to concentrate.

I had the flu. That’s why my bow was shaking.

The chair was too low/high.

The stand was too low/high.

The lighting was too dim/blinding.

We are quick to blame the instrument itself:

My instrument is too small/too big.

My chin rest is too low/too high.

I forgot my shoulder rest. I had to use my shoe! (violinists).

It was the reed again. It cracked and quacked (1) (oboe players).

My strings are too high off the fingerboard. I can hardly press them down (cellists).

My strings are old/cheap/false/unraveling (all strings and harp).

My bridge is warped.

My mouthpiece got stuck. (2)

My instrument is a piece of crap (all).

Someone set up the instrument all wrong! (even a novice will notice that the strings should be over the bridge not under!)

And in the case of cellists – the woes of the endpin

The endpin is warped. (3)

My end pin slipped because my rock stop/puck/strap slipped!

My endpin was too low. When I started, I tightened it as hard as I could but it s-l-o-w-l-y descended while I was playing.

It was a wolf tone. It sounded like my outboard motor. (4)

We might blame the bow or bowings:

You want how many notes or beats in one bow (or one breath!)? How long do you think my bow is? Tristan und Isolde by Wagner is a case in point. 

Something is wrong with my bow!

My bow is warped.

My bow needs to be re-haired.

I need darker rosin.

Carbon fiber bows are so unresponsive.

Or the music:

This edition sucks.

It was hand scribed. What do they expect?

Kalmus!

The editor put in strange and terrible fingerings/bowings.

The page turns were impossible.

Too many leger lines! (5)

We can always resort to blaming the conductor and/or the composer:

Why did the conductor choose this piece?

What was the conductor thinking? That was an unplayable tempo.

Didn’t the conductor conduct 4 in a 3/4 bar?

The conductor got lost.

The conductor can’t conduct his/her way out of a paper bag.

The conductor glared at me.

The composer doesn’t know anything about the cello, the string family, or likely failed music theory and composition.

The composer must think we have a degree in calculus and algebra to figure out these rhythms.

When we are really piqued and need an excuse right away, we impulsively blame our stand-partner:

I missed that passage because of my stand-partner. He/she:

Didn’t get the page over fast enough.

Put the stand too far away, too high/low.

Put his/her fingerings in the part, and I couldn’t see mine.

Was singing along, and he/she has a terrible voice.

Was playing out of tune, out of rhythm, got lost, swayed too much, screwed up the bowings.

Or we can always blame the weather or travel

I got caught in the rain.

It was the jetlag.

And if these don’t work. Here are a few on an ascending scale of desperation

I usually play better.

I practised so much I almost died!

I sounded great at home.

I blame my parents.

I blame my therapist!

A swarm of termites has moved in!!

(And when all else fails)

It was the viola section’s fault. (With apologies to my amazing viola playing colleagues such as Julian Rachlin on viola in Resurrection of the Viola Player.) (6) 

These are some insights into life as a musician. Jokes aside, those of us in the business know playing a musical instrument takes practice, tremendous discipline, focus, and dedication. The preparation for each concert can take months if not years, and attaining excellence is a lifetime quest. Deep down, we truly acknowledge that there are no excuses. Musicians never want to let down our audiences, our teachers, or ourselves, so we continue to pursue excellence and strive for that impeccable performance. But even more important, we endeavor to play with enough panache to move our audiences and fool them into thinking it was effortless!

Notes:

(1) A reed is used by the clarinet, oboe, English horn, and bassoon players. Many musicians carve their own reeds out of cane. Reed making is a fine art and can take years to learn as the reed is directly responsible for the response, sound quality, ease of playing, and playing in tune. Yet sometimes they might only last a few minutes as they can easily chip or crack but well-cared for, they can last 2-3 weeks depending also on how much the musician is playing. But they can sound like a QUACK!

(2) The mouthpiece of brass instruments can become stuck in the receiver. This can be caused by playing with too much pressure, when the player forgets to clean the moisture from the mouthpiece, or when the player forgets to take out the mouthpiece after playing. If it becomes stuck, it is essential to use the specially designed tool to remove it— a mouthpiece puller, that will separate the mouthpiece from the receiver without damage to the mouthpiece or pipe. Brass players call wrong notes CLAMS!

(3) Cellists may jam the sharp end of the endpin into a wooden floor, making a hole, which doesn’t please stage-managers. There are several implements available to “hold” or anchor the spike/endpin in place. These range from pucks to straps. But sometimes these slip too! Carrying the cello should be enough, but chairs are often too low. Hence bringing a wedge seat cushion.

(4) The wolf is an undesirable phenomenon that occurs on some bowed string instruments, especially on the cello. When the pitch, often an F# on the G string, is played and it is closely related to a natural, resonant frequency of the instrument, the instrument will vibrate intensely. It can be difficult to control and can sound strange, like a stuttering or warbling. Some cellists resort to a wolf tone eliminator—a small metal tube with a screw mounted on one of the strings below the bridge. They don’t work reliably. I used to squeeze my cello with my knees to reduce the vibration of the instrument and this sometimes worked. But it can still sound like a howling WOLF!

(5) Leger line is used in western musical notation. They are short lines that extend above or below the staff, placed parallel to the lines of the staff, and equidistantly spaced to denote higher or lower notes beyond the staff. Try reading these with progressive glasses or when you haven’t had enough sleep!

(6) Tristan Schulze wrote “Resurrection of the Viola Player” to be played by Julian Rachlin on the viola. This is the very first piece that Julian ever played on the viola, and he had to learn it for memory because he did not know the viola cliff well enough at the time! With violinist and comedian Aleksey Igudesman, Daisy Jopling, violin, Tristan Schulze, cello.

 by Janet Horvath, Interlude

Musicians and music lovers enjoy musical puns. Who doesn’t need a laugh these days? I thought why not expand on some of the puns colleagues have shared with me, of course omitting the ubiquitous viola jokes! (Special thanks to prolific writer and cellist David Johnstone.)

I was going to tell an Alban Berg joke but I have to go to the loo, Lou!

I have a Wagner joke but it would take 110 musicians and more than four days to tell…

I have a Debussy joke, but it’s hard to follow. More of an impression really…

There is a Hungarian joke to tell over a pint of beer, but Bartók can’t happen at the moment due to the pandemic. They’re all closed.

I considered telling a joke about an orchestral suite of Handel but thought it might not go off with a bang especially if it was all wet.

I figured out why Bach had so many children. He didn’t have a stop on his organ!

I have a Haydn joke but I can’t tell you now. It’s a Surprise.

When I began a class about the development of the famous piece Bolero my students told me it was too difficult to un-Ravel.

OK. Who left the Ring in the bath?

I’d tell you a Tchaikovsky joke but it’s rather Pathétique.

There’s a humorous story about Messiaen, but in the end, I don’t have Time.

Do you know the joke about Schubert? But it’s un…

I related an opera joke to my friend Bill but could William Tell?

My Philip Glass joke; My Philip Glass joke; My Philip Glass; My Philip Glass joke…

I have a Reger joke. Ha-ha. Tricked you. There’s obviously no such thing!

I could tell a John Cage joke, but I don’t have 4 minutes and 33 seconds and it’s too loud here.

Did you hear about the composer who committed suicide? He didn’t even leave a note.

I have a joke about American music but it’s too late now. Ives gotta go to bed.

There are children in the room so I won’t tell an off-color Baroque joke. I don’t think they can Handel it.

Joan Towered over me as she referred to my very petite stature.

I was going to tell the joke about The Trout, but my wife said, “shoo, Bert!”

Want to hear the joke about the staccato in Mozart? Never mind it’s too short.

Did you hear the one about Arnold Schoenberg? When he walked into a bar he asked for a gin without the tonic.

What a Florence Price to pay for that evening. Amy felt totally de-Beeched by the atmosphere.

Did you know Mozart was a child prodigy? He was A sharp minor.

I wanted to tell you the joke about Carmen but I’m too Bizet at the moment.

I was going to tell you about the trout who practiced her scales in Schubert’s quintet. It was tough to listen to…over and over…“Da capo al fin.”

I don’t understand why you’re complaining about these jokes. You can’t Telemann anything these days.

For anyone who didn’t “get” some of these here is a key, and with deepest regrets to:

Alban Berg and his opera Lulu

Richard Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen (The Ring of the Nibelung) or The Ring consists of four operas all very long: Das Rheingold, Die Walküre, Siegfried, Götterdämmerung.

Claude Debussy was considered an impressionist composer.

Béla Bartók was one of the giants of 20th century music from Hungary.

Béla Bartók

Two of George Frideric Handel’s works includes his Music for the Royal Fireworks and Water Music

Carl Nielsen was a Danish composer, conductor, and violinist.

Carl Nielsen

J.S. Bach had two wives and an astounding 20 children.

Joseph Haydn’s Symphony No. 94 in G major is nicknamed “Surprise.”

One of Maurice Ravel’s most well-known pieces is his Bolero.

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky Symphony No. 6 in B Minor Op. 74 is entitled the Pathétique.

Olivier Messiaen Quartet for the End of Time, written for clarinet, violin, cello and piano was written in 1941 when the composer was a prisoner-of-war in Germany.

Franz Schubert’s Symphony No 8 in B Minor was left unfinished and has only 2 movements.

William Tell is an Opera by Gioachino Rossini. The overture is one of the most famous overtures in the repertoire and is frequently performed in concert.

Many accuse Philip Glass’ music of being repetitive. It’s tough for that reason to play, but I love listening to it! Mesmerizing.

Max Reger, a German composer, pianist, organist conductor and pedagogue. His music was serious, especially his many works for organ.

Max Reger

John Cage was thrust into the public eye by his work 4’ 33” a piece which the performer remains silent on stage for that length of time.

American composer Charles Ives.

American composer Joan Tower.

Joan Tower

Franz Schubert’s Piano Quintet in A Major D 677 is named The Trout due to a song he uses in the fourth movement, which is a set of variations on his famous song, “Die Forelle” (The Trout.) Stunning.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Arguably Georges Bizet’s best-known work is his opera Carmen.

Arnold Schoenberg was the first to introduce the 12-tone system of composition and rarely was there a “key” or a tonic note.

Florence Price, an American composer, pianist, organist, and teacher, was the first African-
American woman to be recognized as a symphonic composer.

Florence Price

The Boston Symphony premiered American composer and pianist Amy Beach’s Symphony in 1896—the first symphony composed and published by an American woman.

German baroque composer George Philipp Telemann, a self-taught musician, played several
instruments and was a prolific composer.

Who Was Mozart’s Real Musical Father?

by Janet Horvath, Interlude

Fans of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart will likely be aware that he was taught, shaped, and influenced by his father Leopold Mozart, a violinist and composer. When Leopold began to teach his seven-year-old daughter Nannerl, in 1759, he discovered that Wolfgang could imitate anything his sister played on the keyboard. Leopold began teaching the little boy, and in no time, Wolfgang made astonishing progress. Leopold, deciding the children’s exceptional talents had to be shown off, organized extensive concert tours of the continent, and the children impressed and amazed kings and queens with their music making.

Leopold Mozart © stringsmagazine.com

Wolfgang met many illustrious musicians while traveling in Europe and encountered the music of George Frideric Handel, Johann Sebastian Bach, Joseph Haydn, and Johann Christian Bach. Wolfgang’s friendship and musical kinship with Johann Christian (J.C.) Bach became pivotal.

Both Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Johann Christian Bach, were sons of famous musicians. J.C., the youngest son of Johann Sebastian Bach, was born in Leipzig. The elder Bach was by then fifty years old and in 1750, when J.C. was a young teenager, Johann Sebastian passed away. J.C. traveled to Berlin to live with his older brother and to further his studies in composition and on the keyboard with him, the eminent composer Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach. Johann Christian soon developed into an accomplished performer and composer in his own right. He began to travel widely, eventually settling in Italy.

Portrait of Mozart by Johann Nepomuk della Croce

Captivated by the new musical style he heard in the operatic music there—lyrical, charming, and effortless that shied away from the serious counterpoint of baroque music, J.C. began perfecting Stile galant. It was the music of the future, which introduced simple, graceful phrases that highlighted the melody. Johann Christian’s successful first operas were composed in this elegant style.

Appointed to the position of Music Master to Queen Charlotte, he moved to London in 1762. His reputation increased after writing several successful operas. In 1764 “The English Bach” met and mentored the young eight-year-old Wolfgang and the two enjoyed improvising on the harpsichord. Nannerl, Mozart’s sister, wrote in her letters that Bach would sit Mozart in front of him at the keyboard. J.C. played one bar, then Mozart would elaborate on the next bar, ‘and in this way they played a whole sonata, and someone not seeing it would have thought that only one man was playing’.

Mozart’s predilection for wind instruments originates with J.C Bach. The latter thought the winds should be featured; they should carry the melody and not simply double melodic lines. In fact, J.C. Bach’s earliest opera was the first to include clarinets.

Portrait of Johann Christian Bach in 1776 by Thomas Gainsborough ©

Bach’s keyboard style also greatly influenced Mozart. Naturally Mozart and his sister played keyboard duets throughout their childhood, and Mozart’s sparkling and enchanting compositions for piano four hands and for two pianos will always be celebrated. Piano duos or works for piano four hands are performed on one piano and differ from compositions that are written specifically for two pianos. Mozart wrote his Fugue in C minor K. 426, and his Sonatas in D major K. 448 and in C major K. 545 for two pianos, and many other composers from Ravel to Liszt, and Brahms to Rachmaninoff followed suit.

At the Duo Pleyel concert

It was enlightening to hear the two composers, Mozart and J.C. Bach, juxtaposed, and to hear Bach’s influence firsthand in a recent concert by Duo Pleyel in Austria at the spectacular 12th century abbey Klosterneuburg, in Augustinus Hall. Pianists Alexandra Nepomnyashchaya and Richard Egarr presented a program entitled “Mozart’s Real Musical Father” that alternated Piano Duets by W. A. Mozart and those by J.C. Bach. They performed on a replica of Chopin’s preferred piano, a Pleyel built in 1848.

The duo opened the concert with the Mozart Sonata for Piano 4 Hands in D Major, K. 381. I think you’ll agree the first movement Allegro could not be more beguiling. Within the movement the interlocking melodies alternate from the major and minor key effortlessly, moving from charm to mystery, and from affecting to poignant.

Stift Klosterneuburg

A delightful duo by Johann Christian Bach followed, the Sonata for Piano Duet in A major Op. 18, No. 5. The duo is only two movements. The allegretto is expressive and lyrical, with the two pianos evenly matched singing through beautiful scale passages and ornaments, certainly an example of Stile galant and the compositional style Mozart would emulate.

Mozart’s Five Variations in G Major for Piano Duet, K. 501 was next on the program. Mozart’s wizardry in this brief work of only 7 minutes, is riveting. He highlights and embellishes the initial enchanting melody first in eight notes, then in triplets in the lower piano line, then in sinuous sixteenth notes in the higher register. It’s followed by a slow and weightier variation in the minor key. More virtuosic flourishes follow before the simple version from the introduction returns towards the end and fades out gracefully. It’s masterful.

Acciacatura

The Sonata for Piano 4 Hands in F Major, K. 497 by Mozart begins with an exquisite Adagio before it embarks on a lighthearted Allegro di molto. What could be more beautiful than this opening? Mozart composes with such brilliant panache. Listen for the acciaccaturas – grace notes played as quicky as possible before the main note with the emphasis on the main note, as if little birds are chirping—as well as the speedy turns—a four-note pattern where the main note is played, then the note above, followed by the main note again, and then the note below, and is notated by a sideways ‘S’ symbol.

J.C. Bach Sonata for Piano Duet in F Op. 18, No. 6 followed, a work of only two movements, an Allegro, and a Rondeau-Allegro, which is an animated movement featuring unison playing and short cadenzas. One can hear many similarities in style that Mozart later adopted and perfected.

The concluding piece on the program, W.A. Mozart Sonata for Piano Duet in B-flat, K 358, begins with a lively and vivacious Allegro that highlights scales and unison passages in each of the two parts.

The third movement, a captivating Molto presto, features long passages of repeated notes, light and quick staccato notes, sparkling ornaments, rhythmic accents on the offbeats, low register bombast, all in merely three minutes. It must be so much fun to play, and lovely to listen to.

To hear these piano duos and to see the parallels between the composers in this most enjoyable program was illuminating, and evidence of the musical kinship between J.C. Bach and W. A. Mozart.

The Dog Ate My Music — Excuses For Not Practicing

by Janet Horvath  

The dinosaur ate my homework. The dog ate my homework. The computer ate my homework. Through the ages teachers have heard extremely convincing excuses to not do their work. Dear music pupils: Don’t tell me you’ve practiced when you haven’t. I can always tell.

My parents were both musicians. My father set the standard for practicing. He would slavishly prepare his orchestral music week after week. I remember that he practiced Beethoven Symphony No. 8, which has a difficult triplet passage in the cello part in the Tempo di Menuetto movement. (It is often inaudible, covered by a gorgeous horn solo, but you can hear it at 3:07 in the link below.) He went over and over the passages with a metronome, starting ever so slowly, then inching the speed up. Both of my parents made sure I practiced properly. Music is more audible than homework so I couldn’t fake it. The piano was in our living room and while my mother, a quintessential piano teacher washed the dinner dishes, she’d listen critically. “COUNT! One–and–DA, Two–and–DA!” she’d bark.

There was no escape when I practiced the cello downstairs either. The door had to be open so my father could intervene. He was from the old school and firmly believed in a methodical approach. “What? You play duets? Why aren’t you practicing your scales and etudes? Popper and Grützmacher.

“Play S-L-O-W-E-R. Do it again!”

One thing for sure—no matter how little I practiced there was no getting out of the lesson that week. They wisely understood that even if I had hardly practiced—according to their standard, at least an hour on each instrument every day— playing during the lesson was worthwhile.

The avoidance of practicing is ubiquitous. Students come up with excuses that are so creative they deserve repeating.

Unacceptable Excuses:

“I didn’t practice this week because I couldn’t be bothered.”
“My hands have grown since last week and so I keep hitting wrong notes!”
“Our housekeeper tidied up the music and I couldn’t find it anywhere.”
“I’ve been chewing gum all day and can’t hold the violin today.”
“It sounded much better in the practice room…”
“I sold my instrument to pay for music school.”
“I left my instrument in my other pants.”
“My cat vomited in the piano.”

Possibly acceptable:

A friend of mine told me that a new student presented himself for their first lesson with a great excuse—a car ran over his bassoon. (Perhaps it sounded better?)

Another colleague told me about a trumpet student who fell onto his trumpet and crushed it while the teacher watched in horror!

Once one of my students, Clara, came to a lesson with the black, ebony fingerboard hanging, the strings dangling, and flaccid. Looking very sad Clara proffered her hand to show me four cello pegs. The strings must be wound through the pegs to hold the strings at the right pitch. On a blistering summer day she had left her cello in the car for several hours. When she went to retrieve her cello the fingerboard had come unglued, the bridge, which supports the strings, had toppled over, and the pegs had fallen out. “I didn’t know where to take it to have it fixed.”

Though we sometimes have our doubts, students are only human. To be honest, I’ve known several musicians who have left music, bows, endpins, and instruments on car rooftops. Hence Darren’s story: “After my last lesson I put my sheet music on the top of the car. Then I wrestled my cello into the backseat. My mom was in a hurry so I quickly hopped in. We drove off. I remembered the music when we were almost home! My mother was so annoyed. She turned around right away and we raced back to your street. I didn’t know my mom could drive so fast! Do you remember that it was such a windy day last week? Well the music was scattered all over the place. We found only this piece,” and then he showed me one page of his music. The page was covered with muddy tire tracks.

It’s important for parents to know that some of my best lessons were those for which I hadn’t practiced enough. Lessons were never cancelled. My music teacher used these lessons as an opportunity to practice with me, to isolate the difficult spots, to play slowly, to play hands separately (as in the case for piano lessons.) We would carefully analyze issues:

Was the fingering tripping me up? Did it need to be changed? Were inadvertent accents happening because the bow speed was not smooth and uniform? Was the tempo unsteady? Was I miscounting a passage? Was I being careless with intonation? Was I following all the instructions marked by the composer such as the dynamics, the articulations and the phrasing?

Nothing serves the student better for their future work in music or in any field than learning how to apply oneself and practice effectively. This intentional approach helps the student improve exponentially. Inconsistent practice prevents improvement, but poor, ineffective practice just reinforces mistakes!