The first few measures of Mozart's Sonata in C minor, K. 457

I was taught, when I was little, that Mozart ought to be elegant. Always.

This turn out to be a beautiful misunderstanding. Look at this:

The powerful and almost disturbing (in the Classical sense) Sonata in C minor, one of only two piano sonatas in the minor mode by mozart, starts with an upward octave gesture in forte. Angry, solemn, masculine, or in some musical jargons, the Ratnerian topic of military/ horn call, or the Mannheim rocket. Measures 3 and 4 answers with piano. being sorrowful, docile, feminine, or an Nietzschean Angst, if you will. The first four bars constitutes what we call the antecedent phrase (the first in a question-answer pair), and the following four the consequent.

Here's how I heard it played by a person of undisclosed name a few days ago, and also an ex-colleague a few months ago, as well as in the first video search result on Youtube when I typed "Mozart Sonata in C minor":

As if it is a plague, numerous people apply the pedal at the second beat of the second bar, prolonging the E-flat until momentarily before the next E-flat played by the right hand.

They also apply a diminuendo from bar 3 to four, partly, rendering the antecedent and consequent phrases totally symmetrical.

There are a few rebuttals for the above interpretation. What Malcolm Bilson preached in his DVD Knowing the Score would forbidden us from applying the pedal at measure two, and I concur totally. Firstly, applying the pedal shortens the silence after the note. The drama of silence conveyed by the rests is one of the things I am looking for. The upward thrust ends "untimely" at E-flat, as if it should have gone up infinitely. The abrupt stop causes silence and question, and the rhetoric continues by picking up the high E-flat as a start of the feminine gesture. Applying the pedal creates what I call a plateau at E-flat, and it may sound like a legitimate emotional linkage between the agitated octaves and the languous melody afterward. This plays with elegance (which is not the character of this passage) and buries musical surprise.

The dampers of the modern steel piano truncates sounds very well, but in a good concert hall or practice room, the resonance during the rest is still evident. In Mozart's piano, the dampers are less efficient, and the resonance constitute part of the musical excitement. I believe this intention is naturally translated well from a Mozartean piano to a Steinway or Yamaha.

Now, take a look at the harmonies:

Measure three to four suggest, harmonically, a crescendo, as the diminished chord at measure 4 is more dissonant than the first inversion tonic chord at measure 3. it makes no sense to play measure 3 louder, and let the music "resolve" to measure 4. The resolution is non-existent. I certainly admire the slight imbalance between the antecedent and consequent phrases more than a dogmatic balanced elegance within the eight bars. This decision based on harmony is very suitable on a fortepiano. But does it translate well on a modern piano? Not necessarily. Therefore, I would do the following:

As a pianist with some talent but far from a natural player, I think about music often with great complexities, however aim at having it sound simple and natural. My markings may look complicated, but I think you will understand my intentions.

Interestingly, this sonata was written before most, if not all Beethoven compositions. There is, however, the vigor that is often associated with Beethoven. Also notice the orchestral effect imitated on the piano (tutti/ strings for mm. 1-2, woodwinds for mm. 3-4). Although he wrote the most elegant and tuneful melodies in the history of music, Mozart is neither a transcendental being who only writes angelic music, nor is all his music suitable for shopping malls or the Mozart Effect compilation.

Good speakers for good music

I am particularly happy that I purchased my new iMac a week ago. With a better speaker, I come to sit down and appreciate music much more. Seriously! As a music major, I've been suffering from poor speakers since... I listened to music! I am not a fan of headphones and did not invest in a proper one. My HP personal computer does not give good effects. The iMac does not have a spectacular speaker, but it's enough to distract me from my readings when it plays youtube music. Nuances... ahh... yea...

Book Review: Musical Childhoods & the Cultures of Youth

Book Review: Musical Childhoods & the Cultures of Youth
edited by Susan Boynton and Roe-Min Kok
Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 2006

Parts read: Preface, Ch. 4 to Ch. 9, and Afterword
Parts skimmed: Ch. 1 to Ch. 3 and Ch. 10
See content page here.

This book review does not intend to be in the style of a formal review as in academic journals. It is, instead, an exploration of ideas, a field for ideas to sort and sediment, and a place to pose questions. For a formal review, see Barry Cooper's essay on Music and Letters.

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I was initially attracted to this book by Ch. 5, Roe-Min Kok's Music for a Postcolonial Child: Theorizing Malaysian Memories. As a western music learner from Hong Kong, I struggle to give a statement - not even a provisional one - about my culture identity, and how I appropriate my views of nation and culture, views that seems to come directly from my mind than by reason. (Resemblances of Bourdieu's habitus?) This book serves as a great introduction to topics in children studies. My greatest gain after reading is the heightened awareness of the mediated nature of discourse, especially one between children and adults.

Ch. 5 and Ch. 6 most explicitly grapple with the matter of the mediated nature of discourse. Roe-Min Kok's essay is a deconstruction of her identity as a Malaysian professor of western music in Canada, and then a reconstruction of various powers around her youth that makes her the person she is. In her words, she "theorizes from [her] personal loci" and attempts to "foreground and interrogate forces that have shaped [her] identity in order to facilitate reconciliation of the fragments created by the dominant discourse of [her] early music education." (90) This is an autobiography of her youth, however not one that only recounts her indelible memories of youth, but goes beyond and questions her post-colonial experience. That includes the western music education she received on an eastern soil, and the ABRSM music exams she endured. She put her story as a post-colonial discourse, and ascribes her post-childhood character to values planted by the British colonization of Malaysia. In Ch. 6, Patricia Tang succinctly points out that Senegalese griots attempt to shape their identity through the construction of their childhood stories in front of western scholars. Both essays seem to suggest the death of the fatal "A-word" authenticity, not to discredit the informant, but to acknowledge that discourses are always mediated, and to investigate the mediation would be a fruitful process in what we call critical studies.

Ch. 8 and Ch. 9 testify that some pieces of music do not bear the same effects as their composers intend them to. Ch. 8 reports on the living Germans' memories of political-imbued folk songs of the 50s. Ch. 9 comes to the conclusion that some music education policies in Meiji era spread mostly western musical ideas, despite having an aim to evoke Japanese-ness through music.

All four essays above started from the viewpoint of the adult. In other words, the adult analyses their childhood and provides a discourse. Ch. 5 and ch. 10, interestingly, try to invert the balance. They attempt to analyze from a childhood perspective. Steven Heubner used Piaget's childhood development paradigm to analyze the plot and music of Ravel's L'Enfant et les sortilege. His ingenious imagination connects childhood behavior with modernist aesthetics, something, This relevant and eccentric point of view justifies the opera's presence in the early 20th century. (Of course, the childhood paradigm is invented by an adult, but my point is that the author theorizes as if he/she is a child.) Ch. 10 describes a phenomenon in a Jewish summer camp that an invented ritual-musical practice of the youth shapes their future modes of devotion.

While this book gives a satisfying experience across different cultures, I find Ch. 7 an absurd change of perspective of the book. The author highlights the connection between the three informants - how genius female P'ansori performs come of age - very much her rationale in selecting them. She gives a lot of background information on how their lives are shaped by society, but does not seem to be interested in the discourse of the informants. The informants provide the story, and the author treats it, at most times, as a transparent and True story - quite a different approach from the rest of the essays.

Personally, Ch. 5 remains the most provocative essay. I do not totally agree on Roe-min Kok's post-colonial stance. I was tempted to say that Kok's discourse put the colonized as the victimized, but she doesn't intend to do that. She stopped at interrogating the forces that shaped her youth. In theorizing my coming-of-age, which is one of my goals, I would go further in the critical analysis, and give an answer - a bold albeit imperfect one - to my mission as a product of those powers that shaped me. I am a power, after all.

Vocabs memorization

One of the greatest challenges of a musicologist with English as a second language is that his/her vocabs need to be built. As for me, the relatively small library of vocab makes me check the dictionary often. I'm not satisfied with my current efficiency in digesting academic materials. (Neither am I satisfied with my analytical skills, but that's off topic for here.) I'm reading 60-100 pages of academic materials now on average, and that's the summer capacity. I'm sure that the semester will push me forward and I'll be stressed but delighted at the same time.

Moreover, it confines the prose that is used in academic writing. Without JUST THE RIGHT WORD (which I often struggle to find), writings could sound stale. Sometimes the word is ThErE... but it's just out of reach and I couldn't remember the word that is lost somewhere in my mind.

When I was in primary 5, I wrote down all memorable Chinese phrases that I encounter in the literature I read. Many of whom involves old-Chinese, 4-word idioms, well-balanced phrases and delightful metaphors. My Chinese writing flourished for a few years, and eventually wilted in the 3rd year of middle school, since I stopped the practise (apparently for no reason. Laziness is a retrospective conclusion.)

A few years ago, I started writing down English vocabs onto separate sheets, in the attempt to extended my dystrophic vocab library (in a scholarly standard). No result: the sheets are just hanging there. A few months ago, when I need to study for the GRE, I used sheets as well as flash cards. But still, my library expands in a really slow rate. I still keep the habit of writing down vocabs in separate sheets, and by now, many vocabs I wrote down recently have been encountered before, but I just don't remember them. From today on, I'll try to post these vocabs onto the blog.

Please give me some tips on memorizing vocabs!

The Effective Diminuendo

I was practising Franck's Prelude, Chorale and Fugue today, but the most joyful moment comes at the postlude of the practising, Elgar's Salut d'amour (Greetings of Love).

(Here's a link to a violin and piano version of Salut d'amour. I was playing the solo version.)

  

At the third bar of the third stave, there's an effective diminuendo. (The crescendo before that was three-bar in length.)

When I was practising by memory, I extended the diminuendo through the third to fifth bar of the third stave. It still sounded nice, but the gist is lost. (the piano and dolce are also eliminated.)

In this case, play what the score says, please!

Try it on the piano, or try it in your mind, and you'll know what I mean.

That's why, students (and even teachers) should always practise with the score on the stand, at least on top of the piano for reference anytime.

Try it the wrong way, then try it the right way... it's magical.

Concert Review: Mozart III: Quintet Masterpieces at the La Jolla Music Society

7:30pm, Aug 23, 2011 (Tuesday), Sherwood Auditorium, Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego (La Jolla)

Pleasant, but I hope they made me want more.

Ralph Kirshbaum (USC cello professor) and Andre-Michel Schub (Van Cliburn winner) started the concert, with a smile, with Beethoven's Variations on Bei Maennern, welche Lieve fuehlen, WoO46. Well within their technical realm, they handled the music with ease, delicacy and effective mood changes. I am particular fond of the open and sonorous quality of the cello.

The following Mozart's Quintet in A Major for Clarinet Strings, K. 581, however, was notably less mastered by the Tokyo String Quartet. I would be expecting more dramatic harmonic surprises and melodic gestures. The beautiful second movement (Larghetto), in particular, was rendered in a plain manner. Pleasant, but plain, and lacks the musical quality that touches the heart deeply. The ensemble started the third movement (Menuetto) revitalized, but energy wilted, disappointingly, toward the end. First violinist Martin Beaver was able to interpret quick notes, but lacks legato and fluency at times. Clarinetist Burt Hara, on the opposite, was an inspiration for the quintet, for the musical motion was initiated and almost held only by him (Sorry, cello was doing it, but you're not supportive enough.) Violist Kazuhide Isomura has a beautiful sound when he plays forte occasionally, and perhaps too rarely: I hope he has had more voice in the music.

The second half started with the Kirshbaum-Schub duo playing Beethoven's Twelve Variations on Ein Maedchen oder eichen, op. 66. I wasn't familiar with both cello-piano duos in tonight's concert; however, I wish I could the program could make the duo work harder - maybe it's really hard for the organizer to accomodate that - I don't hear a special "Kirshbaum sound" or "Schub sound" through the two classical (rather than romantic) Beethoven pieces. Don't get me wrong: it was decently done.

The final piece, Mozart's String Quintet in G minor, K. 516 opened in a much more convincing manner. Mr. Beaver seems to handle the quick notes much more comfortably and convincingly than in the first half. I enjoyed the lively musical exchange between the musical voices in general. My personally taste prefers the third movement (Adagio ma non troppo) be played in a slower tempo, providing a greater contrast with the preceding Minuet movement. Despite taking a faster tempo, the quartet did not play "ma non troppo". There was a lack of musical motion forward. It's the same problem: the Tokyo String Quartet is not as exciting, musically engaging and powerful as I would want it to me. It was satisfactory, but by no means spectecular.

As my first visit to the La Jolla Music Society Concert, I find the environment very welcoming, and service professional. The audience, as expected, comprised of a majority of senior citizens, as well as vacationers at the La Jolla area. There are also quite a few younger audience at their 20s or 30s, which is encouraging. The venue, Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego Sherwood Auditorium, does not seem to be designed for musically events: the floor is neatly covered with carpet. Surprisingly, the sound quality did not suffer as much as I expected, perhaps due to the suitable size of the venue - 492 seats. The acoustics, I believe, did affect Mr. Schub's playing. I think the Steinway has more potential than what has been presented in the concert.

The concert was a full-house, and the program was well designed. The Tokyo String Quartet, however, did not let me want more after their performance. Perhaps it's time to go home for a nice cup of tea and think about the next day.

(My first concert review ends here.)

Musical Meetings, or "reunions musicales"

Why did I choose the name "musical meetings" for my blog?

I've been looking for a good name for a musical blog, one that records and shares my musical adventures, readings and thoughts. At first, I was gonna call it "musical confessions". The name is effeminate, which suits part of my character. However, I found that different people have registered blogs using that name on blogspot and wordpress, and they have all stopped writing for more than a year (!)

Then, as I was continuing my pre-PhD program readings, I came across this:
"The indoor concerts of the Bon Marche, which began... in January 1873... In the beginning, they were called "musical meetings" (reunions musicales), as if they were intimate gatherings."
(from Jann Pasler, "Material Culture and Postmodern Positivism" in Writing Through Music, p. 437)

Musical meetings! Great name!
1. I intend to write all the blogposts intimately to myself and to you. All are my authentic thoughts. It's less academic, but spoken from my heart.
2. Meeting can mean a "hi-bye", a instantaneous encounter; it can also mean a detailed discussion. This pun definitely suits this blog's purpose. You can do both, and sometimes, I'll write shortly in an aphoristic style, sometimes in a detailed discourse.
3. It suits my historic interest: I love old (as well as new) music! Reunions musicales... how nostalgic :)

So, the story goes on like this:
"By 1880, however, the store began to them them [the concerts] seriously. Fr the two or three choral concerts that took place within the main hall for the store each winter, the merchandise was cleared out, Oriental rugs, curtains, exotic plants, and lighting were brought in, and the space was turned into ahuge, luxurious salon.. Six thousand invitations were sent for one concert in 1881 This included 300 pink ones for female employees, 2000 green ones for male employees, and the balance presumably for customers and invited guests. Four thousand free programs were printed."

I hope you'll enjoy the stories that I'm bringing you in the future!